HE’S A DREAM KILLER

Some people are Dream Killers. I know how to stop them, now.

MAKING MAGICK – © LYON 2026

Tonight I made the mistake of telling ‘Ben’ about my little non-formed-yet, very vague dream/idea of going back to live in Hawaii again. Some people you just have to not tell. I forgot he was one of them.

We had been having a lively conversation about whether or not people have images in their minds of what to create before they paint. I do. I was shocked and surprised when he said he didn’t have any inner reference when he painted.

See, I just assume everyone is just like me! How wrong could I be, right?!? No, seriously – I don’t assume that, but I felt silly when he told me – I had never even given the idea a single thought before. I just figured people had some kind of inner idea or image that prompted them to paint, or draw, or sing or write.

But – no. Not him. He said he uses photographs as inspirations, and then pieces together scenes he likes.

So I asked him how he thought up and built his very nicely designed house for his family – he’s a high-level carpenter, so he has access to plans, materials, and everything House you could want. He said he just gathered stuff he liked and put it together.

Well, that’s what I do. Not only does That Mysterious Something plop ideas into my head, I also keep a stash of thousands of images I’ve collected over the past 30 years.

If I don’t have the seed of an idea in my mind, I just scroll through the collection for ideas. When one catches me, I stop and mull over it, recolor it, redraw it – in my mind – until it looks like something I want to actually draw into the ‘real’ world.

They don’t call it ‘drawing’ for nothing. Think about it – what is something you pull on that has stuff in it? A drawer. What do you do when you pump water with a hand pump? You draw water.

Each one means you pull something out of somewhere. Think about art – when you draw – paint, carve, write, whatever – you’re pulling an idea or image or a 3-d thing out of some invisible mysterious level of creation, and pulling it into this one.

Most times that inside image is like a newborn – not complete, vulnerable, even afraid. It can be fully formed, quite verbal, and dancing on two feet, as well.

But tonight, when I said I was thinking of Home in Hawaii, it was as if a little tiny finger of a baby hand was poking through, not formed at all, just a quiet beckoning.

And Ben flipped inside out right before my eyes. “You’re what??? How will you DO that? How will you pay for it! Don’t ask ME for money, my family and I can’t afford your stupid dreams . . . ” and he went on and on until all his big black doubts filled the space between us.

When he saw how my eyes went squinty and my body had gone stock still – always a very bad sign! – he stopped, coughed and stammered and started to back track. “I – I – I – I was just being practical . . . ”

But see, I’m old. This wasn’t my first rodeo with a Dream Killer. Nor my 100th, even. It took me years to find out, but I know what to do now.

I smiled, even though I could feel the roiling dark energy of his doubts in my own body. I used to think those feelings were my own – they were most definitely not! I ignored them, because I knew they’d shift.

I said, “Thank you for sharing! I see that you have no idea, still, after all the years we’ve known each other, how I operate – drawing an idea out little by little.

“Because you have no inner vision, it never occurs to you that I might have a process I use to zero in on and grow an idea, so you dump all over mine when you see I don’t plan and erase and plan and erase every little specific detail like you do!

“And you have so little regard for me and my dreams that you think they’re stupid? And that I I wouldn’t take you and your family into consideration? That’s pretty rude! At least now I know what you really think of me and what I do!”

I could have asked him to leave at that point, and yes, I felt like it! But then I said what really counted.

“You’re a tried and true, bona fide, hissing stomping Dream Killer. I’ve never said that before, although how many years have I known/thought about it!

“Is that how you treat your kids when they tell you their dreams and ideas? You pull the practical card and bulldoze them until their little budding ideas are crushed and flattened into oblivion? Because that’s what you’re trying to do to me, and I won’t have it anymore.

“You can stick your ‘practical’ thoughts up your wahooty, because I know very well that the ‘how’ always follows my ideas, and most times come out way better than if I’d tried to figure it out.

“You live a puny life because you don’t allow the Mystery, the Universe, god, or whatever it is I know you don’t believe in, to do it for you.

“I do. So shut the hell up and let me dream my dreams. And if I happen to let it evolve, one day I might call and tell you. But you can bet I won’t before it’s ready and able to to stand on its own first.

I stood up and said, “Now you can leave.”

I don’t have to tell you how pale his face got, or how his shoulders went up in defense, and back down lower, into shame. I bet you can feel it.

And I also bet you can feel how my scolding used the energy of his doubt right back at him, to show him what he had been trying to do to me. Because by the time I was done, all that black icky energy he’d been splashing towards me was gone from my body.

I felt both energized and calm. Standing solid on my floor, like an Unmovable Rock.

“You’re a Dream Killer” was what got to him. He’s actually a smart, kind, man. He just had no idea that his lack of inner vision was causing others pain.

How many times over the years had I crumpled under his onslaught – I cringe to think about it. I just never knew what to say, or that it was really about inner vision.

He rose quietly and walked to the door. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he passed me. “I didn’t know.”

“I know,” I said. “Now you do.” And he left.

Now you know, too.

And if you don’t have images, ideas, words, music, or any other not-you things going on inside your head? It’s OK. Just keep in mind some of the rest of us do, and don’t appreciate being stomped on when you don’t understand what we are trying to say, or do, or create.

Just be patient, and listen. Be kind. Ask questions. Do NOT ask “how will you do that” – that’s the killer. Because it drags us out of Dream into this ‘real’ world, and the dream gets lost then and there. Instead, ask, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

And if you do have an inner menagerie like mine, just be patient, gird your loins, and call out the Dream Killers.

Don’t let them crush you.

One of your dreams could change life for everyone. One of your ideas could save the planet, or dogs, or space travel.

You’re important to the rest of us! Dream on!

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