Because this is my sacred space of purity from all corruption, there’s a fun carrot sitting on a bumblebee eating his favorite chili. He didn’t go down because he was bouncing around and having a joyful time, because nothing tells him he cannot.
This is what sacred space looks like.
Let’s get started by getting lost in a dream.
Before we can imagine we are dreaming, we must drift.
Sweet dreams drifting down, down and more, expanding yourself into the infinite light and love of what’s possible beyond what isn’t known about what is known.
It makes sense to those who have enough sense to want it to make sense.
If something is always beyond what’s possible, then it’s simply not yet possible.
And if we know it’s not, then maybe one day it could.
Before we get lost in the dream, imagine this.
A spaceship in the middle of a crowded room.
A room full of friends standing around it, staring, wondering whose it is and why it is here, and whether or not someone is going to stop us from touching it.
No one does.
So, we climbed in.
We are on a mission of hope, though none of us remembers agreeing to such a mission. One daring defeat after another somehow landed them in a slim swamp of sorts—a kind of soupy cloud of space debris and dust. It’s not solid or liquid.
Just dry cloud soup.
The ship hums quietly.
As we assessed our situation, we came across all sorts of buttons. Lots of buttons!
You see, we didn’t just find this spaceship and pay money for it.
We just found it sitting there with no one in it, and… we just kind of got in a flew off.
That’s how most of our adventures began.
We were drinking clam bubble spinning sodas and laughing as we flew past the glowing moon shadows where impossible dreams collapse into colorful waves of wonder.
No one asked questions because questions would slow us down, and slowing down would mean thinking, and thinking would mean someone might suggest we return the ship.
Before going to the zoo—and no one remembers why we were going to the zoo—we found a part of a mummy’s foot floating in space.
So, we took that too.
And then we found more like it.
And now we are not entirely sure whether we are explorers, collectors, or thieves, but since no one has stopped us, we continue forward anyway.
So now what do we do?
We continue until we find a zone where everyone can see what we’re going to do.
“I’m going to be the king of the zebras!” someone shouts.
Silence.
Then laughter.
Just kidding.
Who would want that
What would you even do if you were a zebra king? Ride zebras? Make zebra laws? Collect zebra taxes?
Okay.
So that is not what we are doing.
What we are doing is finding the Lost City of Wonder!
And yes, it sounds like a magic place, because it is.
You see, we have two shoes, and now we know we need another pair before bedtime takes them away.
That’s how adventure works.
You never realize what you need until you are already missing it.
I have more than I’m capable of becoming, and I have a rather long way to go if there’s anything more to be said about what’s becoming of this enormous nightlight that keeps bothering the flies that keep me from thinking too long into the night.
I don’t particularly like flies.
They don’t keep me warm, and they do not smell good. How it happened was I found out that if I just let them buzz without completely losing my mind in swatting them, which I always miss, and it burns up my energy, then I’m so tired that I’m too tired to sleep.
So instead of doing something, I thought, why not just do nothing?
And I did.
What the buzzing didn’t do was keep me awake.
The flies warbled, and the nightlight kept glowing, and the world kept moving, and none of it needed my permission.
And for the first time, I had soothing sleep.
The brisky breeze and the quiet glow of the nightlight let my wandering mind settle. Beneath the layers of chattering thoughts, there was something calm waiting to be heard.
Then I got cold.
And then… kaboom!
Oh yes!
We’re still on a spaceship.
Someone found us.
Boarding ships approach from the dark and attach themselves to the hull like metal parasites.
Heavy footsteps echo through the corridors.
We hide.
No one finds us.
But now they have the ship.
Or at least they think they do.
But it is our ship.
It was always our ship.
We found it first.
We believed in it first.
We flew it into impossible dreams and colorful waves toward the Lost City of Wonder long before they even knew it existed.
So even if they walk the halls and press the buttons and claim ownership, they cannot take what was never truly theirs.
Because we took it.
And even if we took it without asking, I like it.
And it is mine.
And as long as we keep dreaming, the ship will always be ours.