In thinking of
this dream I have been distinct feeling that I did not have to where I was at
all but have chosen a comfortable walk paved streets. I had gone to the squalid
and muddy district because I preferred adventure, and, having begun, I had to go on. When I think of how persistently I kept
going straight ahead in the dream , it seems to me as thought I must have known
there was something fine ahead, like the lovely, grassy river and the secure
high , paved road beyond . Thinking of it on those terms, it is like a
determination to be born - or rather - or rather to be born again - in
sort of spiritual sense. Perhaps a some of us have to through dark and
devious ways before we can find the river of peace or the highroad to the<soul's
destination.
What which we experience in dreams, if we
experience it often, is it in the end just as much a part of total of our
soul as is anything we really experience: we are by virtue of it richer or
poorer, feel one need more fewer, and finally are led along the a little in
broad daylight and heaven in most cheerful moments of our waking spirit by the
habits of our dreams. Suppose someone has often flown in his dreams and finally
as soon as he start s dreaming becomes conscious of a power of art and art of
flaying as if it were privilege he posses-ed, likewise as his personal and
enviable form of happiness; such a man as believes he can real ye any arc and
angle with slightest impulse, as knows the feeling of a certain divine
frivolity, aging up without tension or constraint, a going down without
condescension or abasement without gravity! Why should the man who know such
dreams and dream habits at last that the word happiness had a different color and definition in his ours waking
hours too! How should he not have a different desire for happiness? Soaring
rapture as the poets describe it must seem to him, in comparison with this flaying, to earthy, muscular, and violent, to grave.
