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People ask me if I have vivid dreams or nightmares. Normally, the answer is no. I had a spat of nightmares a few weeks back, but I finally figured out what issue I was working subconsciously and once I dragged it out into the light of day I was able to work the issue rather than have it work me over. My dreams are usually about issues I’m working, or need to, or my spiritual practices. I’d forgotten that one of the side effects to not writing is that my dreams change. The other night I dreamed about fairies, as in the sidhe, mass graves, serial killers, magic, large construction equipment, and chickens. I have no idea why the chickens, but for the rest it’s my subconscious blooming to more vibrant life during the night since I’m not working it so hard during the day.

I had a hypno-therapist try to help cure me of my fear of flying a few years back. She did an interesting technique and it seemed worth a try. Unfortunately she and I had a serious communication break-down, or rather she didn’t share one crucial piece of information. The idea was that the hard work would happen while I was asleep and I should wake refreshed and less afraid until gradually the fear would go away completely. Nice theory. In reality I woke the next day anxious and so jumpy I could barely function. Instead of just being afraid of being on a plane I seemed nervous about my everyday life. Not a good trade. I called her up and got an emergency appointment.

When she heard what had happened, she told me, “I’ve had this problem with a few other artists and writers.”

“What problem?” I asked.

“Some writers use their subconscious when they’re awake and working. They seem able to use parts of the mind that most people never access while waking, and since that’s the part of the mind that was supposed to be working on your phobia, it means you’re working your fears while you’re awake.”

“That seems like a bad idea,” I said.

She agreed, and undid her subliminal suggestion. I’d always suspected that I was more in touch with my subconscious than most people, but this was confirmation of it. Apparently, I write with the same part of my brain that most people only access during a dream state. I go through my daily life with that part of my mind front and center with my consciousness. Weird, and cool, all at the same time. I thought it was particularly interesting that the therapist said that she’d had the same problem with some writers and artists, but not many even of them. Most people just don’t use their subconscious that directly while they’re awake.

I know for a fact that once my dream life was much closer to normal. It was vivid and full of imagery of the day, and of what I was thinking about. So something about the process of writing for so long and so much has actually changed how I dream and how my subconscious communicates with the rest of me. I hadn’t realized how big a difference it made until this break between final draft and copy edits, and my dreams almost immediately changing and becoming more, well, dreamlike. Maybe this is why I don’t understand why other people ask, where do I get my ideas? If I walk around in what amounts to almost a conscious dreamstate then my mind is a fertile well soaking everything up and throwing it into the subconscious/conscious mix. It’s why I don’t have to do much to get into the mood to write. It’s probably why I don’t have to do much to get into a meditative state either. It probably also explains why I work therapy issues so quickly that I’ve had therapists be caught off guard. I’m pretty much always in a receptive, highly imaginative state, anytime I’m awake. My dreams are actually less vivid than my writing when I’m writing enough to keep ahead of my muse and me. I’m beginning to think of it as a pressure valve, any time I stop writing for even a couple of days the pressure begins to build and my dreams change because my ideas have gone underground to that subterranean river that runs through most people’s minds. But if I’m writing enough pages, having enough ideas, then the river runs almost on the surface with all my other thoughts. Maybe this explains why a few days of not writing makes me so anxious, I’m not used to half my head being hidden away in the dark somewhere, I’m used to my thoughts, ideas, inspiration playing in the sunshine together.