My favorite time of any day is the hour or so after waking when I stumble, with coffee in hand, to my spot on the couch, often lighting candles and burning a little sage or Paulo Santo, and sit down to write out my dreams and morning thoughts. This is the in-between hour, the place where dreamtime and waking time are woven together. The rest of the day moves from there. That is the source water, the rest of my energy flows in tributaries that go in a thousand directions from that place.

Morning thoughts are as important as the dream in their own way. Even though very often they do not resemble the dream overtly – the dream is talking about one thing, the morning thoughts often seem to be other issues or plans illuminating – yet I know that these impressions flow from the dreaming. The dream lines things up so that the thought energy can move through.

My life is an experiment, an experiment with the dreaming. I have lived like this since the age of 24 when my spiritual teacher taught me about the importance of dreams. I have given immense focus, love, trust and commitment to this life project, through every twist and wild ride of the last decades. Sometimes I wonder if I should leave this emphasis, if I’m not being practical, if this method for living is leading to nowhere and nothing in particular, if other more stabilizing options in life are passing me by as I do this. But, this is what I do. This is who I am. That is all I know for now.

On another note, part of my waking thought this morning is to make more conscious a visual piece of my environment that has been affecting and guiding me more than I have realized until today. My oldest daughter, Josi, captured my heart the second I laid eyes on her; until then I hadn’t known there could be such a love as that in this world. She has been a guiding angel ever since. She is my confidante and foremost adviser in every important matter of life. A sidewalk artist in Paris rendered a sweet portrait of her on the occasion of her 16th birthday. It hangs in one of the bedrooms in my house and just happens to peak out on the rest of the house, especially visible from the very spot on my couch where I sit to do my dream recording, telephone sessions, news and tv watching, eating of many meals. The power and guiding force of that visage to impact my thoughts, heart, intentions and impressions never really struck me until today. Now I see it as clearly as if a mountain appeared out of the mist – now I know the mountain is there and has been all along. The spirit of a thing guides through images of it, we know that from the many iconic images humans place in their environments to help direct their focus. This daughter is an angel. She mentioned to me recently, “You’re the only person in my life who calls me angel.” I didn’t hardly realize I call her that until she said it. It is just so. Here’s the picture I am speaking of. May your angels become more evident to you as well.