Writing about curtained reality

For the last few nights, I haven’t been sleeping well.

I’ve been dreaming lucid, mostly. I’ve  been dreaming I got up and did things, or walked somewhere with people I am sure I knew but could not recognise. I wake up after a dream, most of the time.

In an effort to sleep better, and to perhaps find out what ails me, I did what I usually do when I am puzzling with a writing (plot/scene/character) problem. I put a notebook beside my bed, and made a note every time I woke up.

This is what I found scribbled on my notepad this morning:

“Let  your soul flow in a torrent that would not whisper nor deny the truth of your existence.

Do not make a travesty of that which is not, nor lean into what is not to be.

Let fear take you, but only occasionally.Take on fear instead.

Be open to all, whether good or evil, because it is thus you would realise your true worth.

Let not the winds blow over you, catch some of them and sail.

Your breath is a gift, do not waste it on anything but prayer.”

I have often read that a dream is curtained reality. But I do not know how to take the words of wisdom I have scribbled to myself.  Tonight I’m going to try and remember to describe my dreams in my book, not just pen down cryptic one-liners.