It is interesting how much you can learn by teaching children. Facts you have long forgotten, and truths about the world that you have since taken for granted are folded up from the earth like ancient artifacts hidden in a field. You think you know the universe, and then you take a child out and teach them to plow, and the world becomes new again. It becomes vital and fresh.

For instance, Clara and I were discussing dreams today. She was lamenting the fact that she wakes up from such fantastic dreams all the time, but later she can’t remember what any of them were about.

“That’s right.” I told her. “Dreams are very clear after you wake up, but they go away from your mind very quickly.”

“Why do they go away?” She asked, and then in her typical fashion she answered herself immediately. “Oh, nevermind, I know why. It’s because the dreams have to move on to someone else’s house, so that person can have the dream.” She smiled to herself and nodded.

See, I actually had forgotten this about dreams. I had grown so use to assuming that my dreams were just for me. I had forgotten that they are just books that I borrow for the night from a great library of dreams that we all share. I check out a few every night, and then every morning they are returned for someone else to come find the next evening. It really is an awe inspiring system. Thrilling and mysterious. And I am glad that Clara was here today to remind me of how it works.

Just a quick note: If any of you run across the dream where you are me as a little boy and you are climbing a tree in your yard and your boss is at the bottom yelling about how you are going to be late for work if you don’t climb down right now, but instead you laugh and throw a potato at him and it bounces off his head and you get fired… That one probably should really stay at my house, I’m sorry you had to see that.