How to steal your own dreams

I have a confession... I’m a thief.

I steal dreams. From myself. Allow me to explain…

See, I ‘lift’ things from the realm of dreams and run them across the border into the world of reality.

Ruthlessly. Continually. And I’ve never been caught.

Dreamland was where I once lived. It was fantastic.

But when I was brought back to reality (always against my will), I was shocked that nothing from Dreamland existed in reality. Nothing at all.

I guess I thought it would just show up. Isn’t this how the law of attraction works? Maybe for you, but not for me.

Now, I dip into dream land only to steal.

The first time I did it, I was scared. Like the first time shoplifting.

Here’s how it went down…

There I was again… Daydreaming. It felt so good just sitting there.

But then, I woke up in my dream. I looked around and saw that no one was watching. No security guards. No parents. No spouses.

So, I reached out and grabbed it. Standing fully awake in the world of reality, I grabbed that dream with my two hands and took the physical steps to make that thing a reality.

There it stood in front of me. Stolen goods.

It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t become a millionaire or anything. But it worked.

And, get this… No one came after me.

So I did it again. Hesitatingly.

Again, no one swatted my hand away. No one put cuffs on me. No one with clipboards showed up at my door.

It was then I realized… The only one stopping me from ‘stealing’ my own dreams… Is me.

Furthermore, I realized, I wasn’t stealing at all. Stealing my own dreams is like stealing my own money from my bank. As much as I was deluded to think I was stealing all along, I saw that this was false.

I felt a lot like this guy.

The only use for dreams is to move them from the realm of stardust to the world of flesh and bone.

This is the only reason they’re there. To be moved.
Now, I do it every day. Sometimes multiple times a day.

One of my keys to success is speediness. Smash n’ grab, baby.

I only dip into the dream world long enough to gather my spoils so I can bring them back to the physical world with me, pronto.

When I spend too much time in dreamland, I end up bellying up at the bar and staying too long. That hangover never feels good. I’m too old for that stuff now.

So I sit back, dream of where I want to be, and carry as much as I can back with me. Even if it’s the smallest part of that big dream. Even if it’s only a few coins from the bottomless treasure chest that rests on the other side of reality.

The only downside to this is that Dreamland doesn’t excite me any longer. I get zero satisfaction from ‘visualizing’ the future unless I know I can ‘steal’ it and take it back with me.

I don’t want any of it to stay in Dreamland. I want to feel, taste, and touch all of it. Even if I’m disappointed with what I bring back, that’s ok. I’ll decide once I get it on this side of the border.

Because even the smallest part of a dream in reality is better than a huge dream still stuck in dream land.

Now, hurry up. Let’s get the hell outta here.

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Jonas writes short daily essays here at Higher Thoughts. To get them delivered straight to your inbox as soon as they’re live, click here.