It isn't always clear when looking into a mirror in the morning just who is looking back. It often isn't the person who slept in my bed last night.
The dreams must have been some sort of catalyst that opened new spaces and changed the clay of my mind. I was reshaped and had no active hand at doing it.
It is like a visit from a favorite uncle who always arrives with gifts for the children and then disappears to God knows where until he chooses to show up again. The adults always smile when he is mentioned but they just aren't sure what to make of him.
Jim Morgan August 17, 2012