Although the sun was shining, the still, cool air
had a sharp edge that sliced through my jacket and sunk to bone level. I walked
quickly to keep warm. A group of small folk were careening about on their
bicycles, back and forth from sidewalk to street. It was obvious that one young
man's bike was a recent acquisition. He was having some difficulty steering it.
Suddenly, he twisted the handle and toppled over to one side. Boy and bike
tumbled gently onto the grass. Quickly the mistake was rectified when the boy
pulled himself and the bike up again. As I approached, I could see an amazing
array of expressions march across his face.
First there was sudden panic. "Oh no, what if I'm hurt?" Then his
visage changed to "Yes, it *does* hurt, should I cry?" And finally,
"Well, maybe it's not all *that* bad, but it was scary. If I make a fuss,
will I get sympathy?"
By this time a female companion, older by a couple of years, had returned to
his location. She rode by on her own bicycle, watching him, but did not stop.
"Are you all right?" she called out, then urged, "Come on, just
get back on."
The boy had been upset, that much was certain. Perhaps he had a few bumps and
bruises as well. But he also had a model, a friend who assumed that spills and
chills were par for the course. She knew he could continue to ride. Which he
did, mounting the bicycle, balancing it again and pedaling off while making nary
a sound of protest. I couldn't help but be impressed by the behavior I had just
I mused how analogous this incident was to my own Dream Trek. Trouble, pain
and fear, my Inner Child knows a'plenty. Making mistakes, yes; tripping, for
sure. But continuing to rise and get back on the program. It might take much
more time than a few short moments, but I remembered licking my wounds,
retreating to heal and then daring to move forward again. Searching for the
methods, the models, the traveling companions that would help me move beyond the
walls, around the traps, and through the valley of shadows to emerge as a
Healthy and Happy Kid on the other side.
Then a memory flashed into my mind. It was a panel of dreamworkers. They were
discussing the "dangers" of lucid dreaming. No, "discussing"
is too intellectual a word. These folks may have been academics, but their
flushed faces revealed the true emotional undertone of the presentation. They
were worried. They were scared. And in order to get sympathy, they were making a
During the entire presentation there wasn't a single "older
companion" to serve as a reality check on emotions run wild. So their Inner
Children threw a temper tantrum, right up there on stage of the college
auditorium. And in the process, actual bruises and imagined hurts were wrapped
up together in a big fear balloon that got blown up the size of a humongous
stomping reptilian beast.
Richard Wilkerson has been asking me to start a FAQ on proactive dreaming.
Yeah, sure, Richard. First, I have a question.
Is Godzilla still in the house?