A One-Subject Dream Is Like a Short Poem

The one-subject dream is quick, a statement from you to your subconscious.

Compared to a full-length novel, it’s a short poem.

Compared to a symphony, it’s a 30-second-long ditty.

Or compare it to one of those 30-second emotional TV commercials that play during the Super Bowl. A multi-season series it’s not.

It’s an expression, like Carl Sanburg’s poem Fog.

Writing the such a dream down in the SOM format can take longer than having the dream. While you might want to forego journaling it in that way, you’ll want to figure out why you had that particular dream. There’s a reason why you were thinking about it, after all.

I was seasoning some meat with blackened seasoning. I was happy.

Analysis: Yes! Yesterday was a big discovery. I found out what that great seasoning was that goes on a variety of food and I was reliving the joy.

The entry is short; that doesn’t mean it’s trivial. What it is, is a simple communication from your subconscious or beyond. Words and images don’t have to be long and drawn out in order to be powerful.

This makes me happy.

That makes me sad.

Life, after all, is made up of moments big and small. 

Don’t ever fall trap into thinking that because something is communicated with a lot of big words and complicated diagrams that makes it important. Few words and images or many, what matters is the message.

Yet, it’s natural to have this confusion. Many medical professionals for hundreds of years have found they get more respect and bigger paychecks by calling nosebleeds “epistaxis,” for example. There’s a certain dignity to big words and confusing detail. Be smart and see past that. It absolutely is a phenomena. There are dozens of these big words.

By the time it’s filled up, your dream journal will have dozens of dreams big and small. Each one tells a hidden tale from a period of your life. Taken together, you’ll see that it’s a magnificent interior dialogue.

It’s akin to an observation St. Therese of Lisieux made about the “little flowers” of spring in France:

“The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily

do not rob the little violet of its scent nor the daisy of its simple charm.

If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness.”

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