Spent an hour lucid dreaming last night before going to sleep.

I was trying to relax and see the light so I could drop into sleep, but I kept flashing through commercially produced image after image - all kinds of tv-perfect pictures, and movie-quality clips, and at the edge of it all, there was a wave of darkness, like when a line of storm clouds is coming, and I couldn't fight it off.

I saw I was holding a heart in my hand, made of burlap, and it was in this little black box, and the heart was bleeding, and tied up with rough string, and it was this heart, the core of me, broken, bleeding, and the darkness wanted to take it.

So, I closed the box, and let go, and the dark swirled away, with all of that commercial, corporate ideology, and in it's place came all kinds of creativity.

The most amazing paintings, and art, and there was this eye in half a face watching all of it, and it was me, and it was as if, I had given up the rest of the world, but there was all of this new creativity waiting to happen.

Then I sorted out a bunch of things between different bits of me, that I don't quite remember, and drifted off into the light.

If we, as Indigenous people believe that some of our knowledge comes in dreams, then this is knowledge coming to me.  I am doing what I need to do, even if it doesn't make sense.