As I sleep, as I dream, I can feel…or is it smell, the real world around me. My dreams are the chaos of a seven year-old…all energy and extremes…but now…now they are bounded, fenced in. I am looking at my dreams from a mountain, while my dreams play in a small fenced yard.

Silly. My dreams are really silly when I look at them from here. Dark shadows…in the shape of my two brothers…weave in and out, pulling, destroying, laughing with malice that only teenagers can have. Well, teenagers and the insane.

Trees grow in the center of the yard, large and perfect for climbing. I can feel myself swing and dance between the limbs. Delicious fruit grow on each tree. Each a different kind, with a variety of flavors. Wolves are skulking under the trees…waiting on me, waiting on me to fail…to fall to my death and be eaten.

One side of the fence is translucent…there and not there. It’s dark on the far side of that portion of fence. All I can see are images of towns and people I have never been to, or met. Vague images of me as an adult…working in a shop, begging on the streets, running a shop, dead on the streets…nothing consistent, just brief glimpses.

My sister is there, on the other side of the yard. She is leaning over and chastising my brothers. I don’t see my parents, but I do feel them. They form the ground, or the fence itself. I am not sure. This perspective makes everything seem silly.

“You understand now.” The mountain I am sitting on rumbles.

“Yes, I guess…it’s all so childish…if a child can say such a thing.”

“That area down there, that was you…that is not you now.” The mountain rumbles once more, and with the last statement…I begin to slide down the mountain.

No fear. The fear is gone…this is all really silly. I scream with joy at the top of my lungs and zip down the mountain, gaining speed with each second. Just before I reach my yard, a small ramp appears just around the corner. My body zips up and then floats down…like a leaf in the fall.

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The images within the yard disperse and float away on a non-existent breeze.

As I land on the ground below the mountain, the voice of the mountain speaks again.

“This is your world, it is everything you want or need, it is a world of your dreams, a world of your nightmares…but it is only yours, it is the only thing you can truly own whether in shackles or abandoned in a dessert…this will always be yours.”

“Mine. My world. My truth, my justice, my love, my fear, and my hatred.” Tears roll down my eyes. I am not sure if this is because of my realization, or some ego that desires power, or just the fear of such control.”

As I look around, I find there is nothing. It’s not cold and dark, it’s just nothing. It’s an untilled field, or a clear sky. Anything is possible here…but what can I do…why should I do anything.

“Feel the outside world. Pull that feeling here, this is the base of your mountain.” When the rumbling voice of the mountain stops, I sit down and close my eyes. I mimic my body in the waking world.

I look outside myself, I feel light first. Its blindingly, bright, white dust fills everything outside of myself. I pull, like raising a bucket of water from a well, and nothing happens. I ask and nothing happens. I plead and nothing happens.

“Pull the feeling…the dust is not really there. An essence is there and not there, it is a feeling, a connection to a different plane. Pull the feeling.”

I close my eyes again, and take a few deep breaths. I begin to look for the feeling of light, and once again, the world explodes in light. This time, I study and interrogate the light. I move my mind around the motes of light and then, I begin to put together the feeling of light. It’s like the jigsaw puzzles my sister brought home from break…warmth, healing, growth, life…and some aspects of death…an after-image as the mote of light moves across my gaze.

I take that feeling and pull it into my world.

My inner garden begins to grow. Plants begin to grow around me. Grasses so green and blue that they don’t look like real plants. Small shrubs begin next, some bearing fruit, some in flower, and some just colorful. I feel the warmth next. The feeling of sun on my back. I look around, but there is no sun…just the warmth, restful and calming.

I turn back into myself, and unfocus the feeling. The outer world recedes, but the inner world remains the same. The grass soft, waiting for someone to take a nap.

“Good. Now rest here, get to know each new member of your world, and I will wake you when necessary.”