The Dim Source of Dreams, Pt.2
19th Cylus 720 in the heartland of Yrmellyn’s dreamscape
Yrmellyn’s lucid dreams were NOT a linear story. An unfortunate fact for logical people, but an intriguing bonus for the creative dreamer. A would NOT lead to B! It was also not the kind of project where one thing at the time would happen. Several complicated things would demand simultaneous attention. That much was already clear. She had gone from one thing to another. Meditation. Failed attempts to walk through The Veil. Failed attempts to make a nice and decorative spring under the trees. It was getting hard. She had begun worrying that she would add more and more to do and go down in a quagmire of Emean enigmas. It might be better to keep to reality and not have these lucid in dreams, but ...
She didn't seek the dreams out. They sought her.
Gong-gong!
“Welcome back to Emea Yrmellyn! Here we go again! Are we going back to the gateway in The Veil?”
The sound of the gong was lower this time and Yrmellyn was grateful for this. The small Emean being, Bizette, her companion in the lucid dreams, seemed to be in a good mood. Yrmellyn suspected that the last dream’s comedic outcome had entertained her. Yrmellyn’s attempt to soften up the lock to the gateway in The Veil had turned it into butter. It had been a partial success but also a partial disaster.
It would be possible to walk back and try again. But Yrmellyn felt tired of struggling with the gateway. She was going to have a look at her other project instead, the halfways done spring. She had intended to make a beautiful little pond of water under the trees on The Meadow of Spirituality. But, being new to the ability named governing she hadn’t been able to follow through. The source was a surreal shadow of what she had meant it to be. Disappointed, Yrmellyn had lost inspiration. She had procrastinated with completing the project as it didn’t seem so promising. But now, she needed an excuse for not dealing with The Veil and the gateway again. The source project came in handy!
“No. I’m going to improve the source.”
“You are running around like a headless chicken! You move back and forth between your projects. You start new things all the time but finish nothing. Why don’t you make a plan instead? You should focus on a vital few goals and define your strategies for how to achieve them. Then you should divide them up in smaller steps and make to-do lists - and carry out!"
“It would feel like work.”
Yrmellyn could see that the small insect felt perplexed at the answer. Bizette seemed like one of those fools who imagined that hard work would lead anywhere. Yrmellyn knew better! She had often seen people work, work and work but in the end, they got nothing for all their diligence. She felt sorry for those unfortunate souls. Their example deterred her from hard work. Yrmellyn had only had two occupations in her life, both of them relying on creativity. Courtesans and artists didn't' make to-do lists. They operated on inspiration. Besides, this was Emea. She was awake in a dream. What had work got to do with it? Nothing!
She wasn't a work-junkie! Yrmellyn explained this to her Emean companion.
Bizette laughed while Yrmellyn walked over to The Dim Source of Dreams. Yrmellyn didn’t pay heed to it. She focused on art. It wasn't work, albeit it happened to be her job.
The source was interesting from an art point of view. But from a landscape design point of view, it was miserable. She had to admit that. It looked like the sketch of a painting waiting for colours. Yrmellyn studied it and tried to analyze the problem. She wanted the source to become ... real didn’t seem like the right word here in Emea, but she wanted it to look better.
She imagined that it would be easier to change the appearance of things in Emea if she shut her eyes while she did the governing. So, she shut her eyes. Then she began to recall her memory of how the source looked, making her inner picture of it as detailed as she could. There. So far so good! But, now it was time to attempt to govern.
Yrmellyn wasn’t in a hurry to begin though. Her experience at the gateway in The Veil had been depressing and puzzling. She didn’t know why, but it had seemed like governing one isolated factor had been a bad approach. The other factors hadn’t stayed constant. Could it be better to try to manipulate the entirety of the source? Should she change all factors in parallel, instead of changing one factor at the time? Could she change the whole source in one single act of governing? Yrmellyn found it worth a try.
First, she needed to keep her first mental picture of the source intact. Then, she would create a new and better mental picture to replace the first one. Yrmellyn had sometimes done this when she was painting. It was a useful method when she needed to improve her work. If this would also do the trick for governance in Emea remained for her to see.
So ... how would she hold two mental pictures in her mind at the same time? She decided to imagine that the first picture on the right side in her inner vision. She closed her eyes and would keep them closed during the whole experiment. Now, using her imagination, she would put her inner picture of the current source on the right side. She would focus on “seeing” it there. Next, she would imagine the new picture on the left side until she had them both in place. It would demand firm mental attention to the procedure as well as the inner pictures.
Getting the first mental picture in place was not so hard. She had it already. It was a question of focus and discipline to keep it where she wanted it to be. The new mental picture was harder to deal with. Yrmellyn had to create it out of nothing. She didn’t believe in starting from the current dim installation and going on from there. It might lock her into a flawed model. That could become minor polish of bad old results instead of radical improvement.
Her task was to make a whole new inner vision of the source as she wanted it to be. Being a professional artist helped. Yrmellyn wasn’t a beginner when it came to the creation of new original artwork. To her, governing in Emea seemed very close to creating art. An appealing insight!
She decided to approach the governing like she used to approach painting. The first step was sketching, but the governing required more. It wasn’t about making a two-dimensional picture. It was about creating an installation with depth and a plethora of aspects.
It occurred to her that meditation might support her. Well. A potential connection between meditation and governing felt interesting. She couldn’t even guess at why. There was a common denominator of mental activity tough. Meditation. Imagination. Governing in Emea. This trio felt like a mysterious match.
Yrmellyn began to meditate on her new mental picture of the source, located to the left side of her inner vision. At first, there was nothing. But soon, a picture began to emerge. She focused on it and tried to give it as many details as possible. She added not only visual details, colours and shades. She also added sounds, smells and the feel of the wind. Looking down into the imaginary source she imagined that the water was cold to touch. It was clear and fresh. She could see everything through it and on the surface she could see her own mirror image.
This picture (to the left in her inner vision) was the one Yrmellyn would keep. A mental glance at the first mental picture (to the right) told her that it was already fading a bit. It looked more distant than before like it was moving away from her. She let go of it and turned her attention back to the imagination she preferred. Immersing in it she decided to let her mind stay there and unite with it.
This is reality. The reality of this dream.
Now, when was time to have a look at the outcome, Yrmellyn hesitated to do it. The mental session had been weird. But, she reasoned that dealing with Emea demanded surreal tactics. It might even be weirder methods than anything else she had dealt with before, barring magic. Noting seemed to follow the kind of logics she knew from the waking world. Her encounters with The Veil and her first attempt to make a source had told her that much.
It would be a lie to say that she didn’t feel nervous when she opened her eyes again. It might have been stupid to experiment like this. Then again, experimentation had seemed like the only way to move forward.
On the ground, under the trees, she saw the source she had imagined on the left side of her mind. It looked as beautiful as she had felt that it was. Well, it was even better, because the colours were so ... Emean. Yrmellyn would have felt jubilant if not for one thing. The lovely new source hadn’t replaced the first source. Instead, it had appeared to the left of it. She had achieved ... twin sources.
One source was dim and the other was clear, both were Emean but none of them real. Yrmellyn drew in a deep breath and let it out again in a deep sigh. It hadn’t seemed simple to improve the first source, but it seemed even more complex to deal with the new double installation. What could she do, except reframe her experience of it to art? It was her standard way of dealing with tricky situations.
Bizette giggled in the background.
Yrmellyn told her to shut up.
She explained the installation to her smirking Emean companion. This was art. The name of it was The Twin Sources. One was The Dim Source of Dreams. It represented the unaware dreams of the sleeping mind.
The other was The Source of Clarity. It represented the clear sight and the purposeful dreaming of the lucid mind.
“Really?” said Bizette. Her enormous dark eyes were brimming with mirth. “How can you know that?”
Yrmellyn answered at once, without hesitation. The answer came over her lips like it was living its own life.
“Because it came from me. I’m the creator. The privilege to interpret it is mine!”
The word reverberated in her. Creator, creator, creator ...
For a moment she froze. She breathed so fast that it made her dizzy. Her heart was drumming in her breast at breakneck speed. Terror rushed through her as she felt the attunement spark in her rejoice. It felt like her magic was preparing for mutiny and planning to break free from all restraints. It seemed to be about to...advance on her. Near panic, Yrmellyn summoned all the discipline she could find in herself. Steeling herself she kept the magic under control. But, she suspected that she wouldn’t be able to withstand the pressure - and temptation - if she would stay in Emea. She must leave.
“Drum me out,” she whispered. “Drum me out of this ...”
Bizette was already drumming like crazy on her own accord. The small being was dancing and buzzing along with the wild rhythm, shifting into her Emean insect shape, her wings shining, translucent in the light. Everything swirled and danced along with her, dissolving, dispersing, disappearing ...
Yrmellyn woke up in her bed in the inn again. Her heart was racing and she was breathing far too fast. At first, she wasn’t sure where she was. She saw the face of a man leaning over her. Confused, she looked back at him. Then she recalled. They were in Volta. This was a room in an inn. She was ill. The man was her partner, Ha’zel. He put his arm under her shoulder, lifted her up a bit and held a mug to her lips. A strong fresh fragrance of spices and herbs rose from it. Yrmellyn drank several mouthfuls of it without asking anything.
“Keep me awake,” she whispered. “Keep me from dreaming, keep me awake.”
Without asking her why Ha’zel piled up pillows behind her back so she could lean on them and half-sit in the bed. He held the mug to her lips again. She drank a bit more of the herbal brew. Her heart was back to a normal rhythm and her breathing was calm again. It was evening and it would soon be night.
She didn't seek the dreams out. They sought her.
Gong-gong!
“Welcome back to Emea Yrmellyn! Here we go again! Are we going back to the gateway in The Veil?”
The sound of the gong was lower this time and Yrmellyn was grateful for this. The small Emean being, Bizette, her companion in the lucid dreams, seemed to be in a good mood. Yrmellyn suspected that the last dream’s comedic outcome had entertained her. Yrmellyn’s attempt to soften up the lock to the gateway in The Veil had turned it into butter. It had been a partial success but also a partial disaster.
It would be possible to walk back and try again. But Yrmellyn felt tired of struggling with the gateway. She was going to have a look at her other project instead, the halfways done spring. She had intended to make a beautiful little pond of water under the trees on The Meadow of Spirituality. But, being new to the ability named governing she hadn’t been able to follow through. The source was a surreal shadow of what she had meant it to be. Disappointed, Yrmellyn had lost inspiration. She had procrastinated with completing the project as it didn’t seem so promising. But now, she needed an excuse for not dealing with The Veil and the gateway again. The source project came in handy!
“No. I’m going to improve the source.”
“You are running around like a headless chicken! You move back and forth between your projects. You start new things all the time but finish nothing. Why don’t you make a plan instead? You should focus on a vital few goals and define your strategies for how to achieve them. Then you should divide them up in smaller steps and make to-do lists - and carry out!"
“It would feel like work.”
Yrmellyn could see that the small insect felt perplexed at the answer. Bizette seemed like one of those fools who imagined that hard work would lead anywhere. Yrmellyn knew better! She had often seen people work, work and work but in the end, they got nothing for all their diligence. She felt sorry for those unfortunate souls. Their example deterred her from hard work. Yrmellyn had only had two occupations in her life, both of them relying on creativity. Courtesans and artists didn't' make to-do lists. They operated on inspiration. Besides, this was Emea. She was awake in a dream. What had work got to do with it? Nothing!
She wasn't a work-junkie! Yrmellyn explained this to her Emean companion.
Bizette laughed while Yrmellyn walked over to The Dim Source of Dreams. Yrmellyn didn’t pay heed to it. She focused on art. It wasn't work, albeit it happened to be her job.
The source was interesting from an art point of view. But from a landscape design point of view, it was miserable. She had to admit that. It looked like the sketch of a painting waiting for colours. Yrmellyn studied it and tried to analyze the problem. She wanted the source to become ... real didn’t seem like the right word here in Emea, but she wanted it to look better.
She imagined that it would be easier to change the appearance of things in Emea if she shut her eyes while she did the governing. So, she shut her eyes. Then she began to recall her memory of how the source looked, making her inner picture of it as detailed as she could. There. So far so good! But, now it was time to attempt to govern.
Yrmellyn wasn’t in a hurry to begin though. Her experience at the gateway in The Veil had been depressing and puzzling. She didn’t know why, but it had seemed like governing one isolated factor had been a bad approach. The other factors hadn’t stayed constant. Could it be better to try to manipulate the entirety of the source? Should she change all factors in parallel, instead of changing one factor at the time? Could she change the whole source in one single act of governing? Yrmellyn found it worth a try.
First, she needed to keep her first mental picture of the source intact. Then, she would create a new and better mental picture to replace the first one. Yrmellyn had sometimes done this when she was painting. It was a useful method when she needed to improve her work. If this would also do the trick for governance in Emea remained for her to see.
So ... how would she hold two mental pictures in her mind at the same time? She decided to imagine that the first picture on the right side in her inner vision. She closed her eyes and would keep them closed during the whole experiment. Now, using her imagination, she would put her inner picture of the current source on the right side. She would focus on “seeing” it there. Next, she would imagine the new picture on the left side until she had them both in place. It would demand firm mental attention to the procedure as well as the inner pictures.
Getting the first mental picture in place was not so hard. She had it already. It was a question of focus and discipline to keep it where she wanted it to be. The new mental picture was harder to deal with. Yrmellyn had to create it out of nothing. She didn’t believe in starting from the current dim installation and going on from there. It might lock her into a flawed model. That could become minor polish of bad old results instead of radical improvement.
Her task was to make a whole new inner vision of the source as she wanted it to be. Being a professional artist helped. Yrmellyn wasn’t a beginner when it came to the creation of new original artwork. To her, governing in Emea seemed very close to creating art. An appealing insight!
She decided to approach the governing like she used to approach painting. The first step was sketching, but the governing required more. It wasn’t about making a two-dimensional picture. It was about creating an installation with depth and a plethora of aspects.
It occurred to her that meditation might support her. Well. A potential connection between meditation and governing felt interesting. She couldn’t even guess at why. There was a common denominator of mental activity tough. Meditation. Imagination. Governing in Emea. This trio felt like a mysterious match.
Yrmellyn began to meditate on her new mental picture of the source, located to the left side of her inner vision. At first, there was nothing. But soon, a picture began to emerge. She focused on it and tried to give it as many details as possible. She added not only visual details, colours and shades. She also added sounds, smells and the feel of the wind. Looking down into the imaginary source she imagined that the water was cold to touch. It was clear and fresh. She could see everything through it and on the surface she could see her own mirror image.
This picture (to the left in her inner vision) was the one Yrmellyn would keep. A mental glance at the first mental picture (to the right) told her that it was already fading a bit. It looked more distant than before like it was moving away from her. She let go of it and turned her attention back to the imagination she preferred. Immersing in it she decided to let her mind stay there and unite with it.
This is reality. The reality of this dream.
Now, when was time to have a look at the outcome, Yrmellyn hesitated to do it. The mental session had been weird. But, she reasoned that dealing with Emea demanded surreal tactics. It might even be weirder methods than anything else she had dealt with before, barring magic. Noting seemed to follow the kind of logics she knew from the waking world. Her encounters with The Veil and her first attempt to make a source had told her that much.
It would be a lie to say that she didn’t feel nervous when she opened her eyes again. It might have been stupid to experiment like this. Then again, experimentation had seemed like the only way to move forward.
On the ground, under the trees, she saw the source she had imagined on the left side of her mind. It looked as beautiful as she had felt that it was. Well, it was even better, because the colours were so ... Emean. Yrmellyn would have felt jubilant if not for one thing. The lovely new source hadn’t replaced the first source. Instead, it had appeared to the left of it. She had achieved ... twin sources.
One source was dim and the other was clear, both were Emean but none of them real. Yrmellyn drew in a deep breath and let it out again in a deep sigh. It hadn’t seemed simple to improve the first source, but it seemed even more complex to deal with the new double installation. What could she do, except reframe her experience of it to art? It was her standard way of dealing with tricky situations.
Bizette giggled in the background.
Yrmellyn told her to shut up.
She explained the installation to her smirking Emean companion. This was art. The name of it was The Twin Sources. One was The Dim Source of Dreams. It represented the unaware dreams of the sleeping mind.
The other was The Source of Clarity. It represented the clear sight and the purposeful dreaming of the lucid mind.
“Really?” said Bizette. Her enormous dark eyes were brimming with mirth. “How can you know that?”
Yrmellyn answered at once, without hesitation. The answer came over her lips like it was living its own life.
“Because it came from me. I’m the creator. The privilege to interpret it is mine!”
The word reverberated in her. Creator, creator, creator ...
For a moment she froze. She breathed so fast that it made her dizzy. Her heart was drumming in her breast at breakneck speed. Terror rushed through her as she felt the attunement spark in her rejoice. It felt like her magic was preparing for mutiny and planning to break free from all restraints. It seemed to be about to...advance on her. Near panic, Yrmellyn summoned all the discipline she could find in herself. Steeling herself she kept the magic under control. But, she suspected that she wouldn’t be able to withstand the pressure - and temptation - if she would stay in Emea. She must leave.
“Drum me out,” she whispered. “Drum me out of this ...”
Bizette was already drumming like crazy on her own accord. The small being was dancing and buzzing along with the wild rhythm, shifting into her Emean insect shape, her wings shining, translucent in the light. Everything swirled and danced along with her, dissolving, dispersing, disappearing ...
Yrmellyn woke up in her bed in the inn again. Her heart was racing and she was breathing far too fast. At first, she wasn’t sure where she was. She saw the face of a man leaning over her. Confused, she looked back at him. Then she recalled. They were in Volta. This was a room in an inn. She was ill. The man was her partner, Ha’zel. He put his arm under her shoulder, lifted her up a bit and held a mug to her lips. A strong fresh fragrance of spices and herbs rose from it. Yrmellyn drank several mouthfuls of it without asking anything.
“Keep me awake,” she whispered. “Keep me from dreaming, keep me awake.”
Without asking her why Ha’zel piled up pillows behind her back so she could lean on them and half-sit in the bed. He held the mug to her lips again. She drank a bit more of the herbal brew. Her heart was back to a normal rhythm and her breathing was calm again. It was evening and it would soon be night.
