Let's Go Wild
#98: 27 April 2025 What color is your sky?
I want to begin this week by sharing a dream I had over a decade ago. It led me to write a book I titled, “What Color Is Your Sky?”
Here’s the dream that introduces the book…
Dream
I had a dream last night. It spoke very clearly to me. I awoke knowing the concept of my next book, the one you hold in your hands now. It is a metaphor for where I am, for where we are, as we hurtle into the 21st century, seemingly bent on destroying our planet and civil society. Here’s the pertinent part of the dream.
I am standing on the roof of a huge hotel. I am next to a wall about 2 meters (6 ½ feet) tall. The area where I am is barely wide enough to stand comfortably; looking over the edge, to the ground below, shows the building to be dozens of stories high. Lucky for me, I have enough room not to fall victim to vertigo when I look down. I grab hold of the top of the wall, and kicking my feet and pulling up, I peek over the top. The roof covers an area at least as large as 4 football fields, there is another, taller wall a dozen feet or so to my left, with an open doorway. A curtain hangs in the doorway, and I can’t see inside the room. The rest of the roof is gray, a few makeshift huts and lean-tos dot the surface. I can see a few people, maybe 50 in all, but no one is very active. Many sit, a few wander aimlessly, none appear to be healthy or energetic. Their clothes are but rags, one or two seem to have books they are reading, but most just stare vacantly into the distance, watching a few puffy, white clouds drift slowly across the afternoon sky.
As wind caresses my face, I see the curtain in the doorway has blown to one side, allowing me a view inside the room. It looks like a control room, rows and rows of consoles, people sitting and quietly speaking into their headsets. Outside on the roof, one man closes the book he is reading, gets up, and wanders slowly towards me. Tall and yet not more than 150 pounds, his gaunt figure clearly demonstrates he has not been able to care for himself well lately. His long, untrimmed hair moves gently across his shoulders as the wind continues to blow. I’m not sure he has seen me, he’s coming my direction, but not with purpose and not exactly to where I hang overlooking the wall.
As he nears, the curtain in the doorway is pushed aside, and a young lady walks out carrying several binders and folders in her arms. Striding with purpose, she moves quickly to pass to the side of the man who has approached. He jerks, as if startled from his reverie by her proximity, and looks at her. For the first time since I’ve noticed him, he appears animated, acting like he’s just awakened. He raises his right hand, as if asking permission to speak in class, and clears his throat.
“Can I go in?” he asks.
“What color is your sky?” the young lady replies, pausing in her march across the rooftop.
The man looks around, first to the left then the right, a puzzled look on his face. I’m not sure if he understood the question or not, then he does indeed, look towards the sky.
“Why, blue, of course,” he says, but he doesn’t sound very sure of his answer.
“Go back to sleep,” she says, and she moves her left hand through the air, as if writing something on a blackboard. The man blinks a few times, and then lowers his eyes to the surface on which he stands. I can see a tear trickle down his cheek. He stands for just a few seconds, then turns and slowly shuffles away into the distance. I glance to my right and see the lady enter what I had taken to be a hut, near the wall. Looking back to the room on my left, the curtain once again hides what’s inside. I lower myself back to the ground, and realize that while I may be outside the dream, for indeed I know that the sky is not only blue, I am still outside of having any control over my world. The only question I have as I awaken from the dream is, how can I change my assumptions about the world, see the world in all its colors and textures, and live a vital life?
This came to mind as we were in a city park today. I was watching my two-year old daughter closely, intrigued by how she views the world. Emi (her self-selected name, after we call her Emily) often stops and asks, “What that noise?” and I have to pause, rewind the last dozen seconds, and then I can identify what she is asking about. The interesting thing is I wasn’t consciously aware of the noise…being accustomed to being in my mind and thinking, interpreting, story-telling…I ignore the myriad ways Nature speaks to me constantly and ego filters out ‘distractions’. Emi is role modeling being awake. We walked over a sewer cover, the iron with slits that let you look inside and let the odors out. She stopped and said, “I want the toy.” It took me a few minutes to see that there was a small orange *something* floating in the water about six feet below the cover. She had spotted the color as she walked by; I had missed it.
Every time lately I have mentioned some brilliant observation Emi has made, the friend I tell responds saying all kids are brilliant. Yet I look around and wonder…then what happens? So here’s my point: is it because Modern has not yet dumbed down brilliant children with fluoride in the water or aluminum in the vaccines until they are older? Is it because parents and caregivers eventually stifle the child’s innate awareness by shifting their focus to staying safe? Or is it that Modern insists we stay in our mind and allow ego to filter the natural world so we have ‘time’ to remember, think, or plan? Children are born Wild; we make them Modern. Sadly, sometimes we beat them into Modern. So, my invitation to you is to reconnect with your inner child, the soul that is aware, brilliant, and although careful, still unafraid.
Don’t forget awe….a beautiful flower, a miraculous healing, a stunning sunset. Be human, be Wild.