To dream is to live

I had a dream that was amazing.  

I was reading a children’s book to a young girl.  It was full of wild and colorful illustrations.  I turned the over sized pages and saw a picture of a train chugging though a fairytale village.  It was filled with very excited, very happy people.  Surrounding the train were houses and shops painted vivid colors and decorated with Victorian gingerbread detailing.  They were adorned with the most beautiful flowers.  People and their pets were out walking the sidewalks and everyone was having a wonderful time.

But that’s not the amazing part.

As I read the story, the girl and I found ourselves riding on the train I was reading about.  I looked out my window and watched the same buildings, people, pets and glorious flowers pass by, just like we had seen in the picture.

I had read myself, and someone else, into the story.  Totally cool!

It was similar to the movie Inkheart, but instead of reading characters from a book into our reality, I had read myself into the book’s reality; like the story of Mary Poppins - when she, Jane, Michael, and Burt jumped into the chalk art in the park.

Whenever I have these kinds of dreams or visions, it makes me wonder if there are other realities out there; realms where the laws of nature are completely different from what we consider normal.   I’m fascinated with the idea that there might be portals that lead into unknown adventures in undiscovered worlds.  A chalk painting, a doorway, or a children’s book could be the passageway that takes us to somewhere else -somewhere amazing.

Happy travels!