The Never Ending Dream

Many, many years ago, my dad fell into a coma which lasted weeks, if not months. I remember praying over him in the hospital room as the doctors told us that his chances of survival were slim. He eventually woke up by the grace of God, and this was the first time that I’d witness the intense state of disorientation associated with living in the dream realm for too long. For the entirety of his coma, he was living another life in another world, and upon returning to his body, he had become convinced that both worlds were one in the same. He repeatedly asked for people that didn’t exist, and places that I had never heard of. He rambled about the train he had boarded, which took him to the same place every stop. The entire process of watching this unfold in real-time was exhausting, and I could only imagine how devastating it must have been for him. Sounding almost like a Salvia trip report, he went into detail about everything that he had experienced during his time “away”. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, as I’ve come to realize that both of my parents are heavy dreamers, and have accessed alternate worlds that they never bothered to fully grasp. I, on the other hand, dove head first into the dream realm, and have done everything in my power to manifest these realities that seem to exist only within my mind. It sounds cliché to quote The Matrix, but think about what Morpheus told Neo. If you never woke up from a dream, how could you distinguish the real world from the dream world? As vivid as my imagination is, it has altered my reality in ways that would go over the heads of most people. But rather than view this as a disadvantage, I’ve seen it as a gift that propels me to heights unknown. Whoever is reading this right now, ask yourself: how big would you dream if you knew you couldn’t fail? 

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