The rabbit hole is even curiouser than we think.
Lined with rich, dark space-time that morphs precipitously according to our perception of it. When we go deeply enough into this mysterious, composting, decidedly disconcerting country inside ourselves, we discover that everything is in there—including a most wondrous tea party!
And inside the teapot—right past the signs and symbols of this absurd and often disturbing dream—there is a teeny portal that opens out in a magical figure-8 fashion.
Honestly, it’s been hidden there on purpose. Enter it and re-emerge in any dream universe you are powerful enough to choose. Since we’re in process, somewhere between dreamer and the dreamed, let’s call it “co-creation,” between you and You-niverse.
In other words, the portal to every possible Wonderland is right there, inside Alice. All she has to do is remember, enter, and choose.
Alice, it’s been such a strange and often frightening journey, right up to that jarring moment when you realized it was all a dream. Now take a look around and ask: next time the Red Queen misbehaves, or the caterpillar blows noxious smoke in your face and just really isn’t very nice, will you be able to remember the teapot and tunnel through to a new dream right then and there?
Can you commit to your own lucidity?
Because only that you—only the Alice who authors herself—will do. It’s where we are headed, Alice. You might as well open those pretty, sleepy eyes.
But how do we become powerful enough to remember the teapot, to choose our own dream —one in which the roses bloom in all the right colors and the Earth heals, and all the caterpillars and people with strange hats finally show proper respect?
To do that, we must find our way through the teapot from the dream out to the looking glass itself, and be brave enough to inspect it for the cracks and crevices and sticky places, aka those aspects of ourselves that allow the nightmares to slip though in the first place. For, on one side of the glass we are the dreamed, and on the other, the Dreamer. It’s much easier to be dreamed than Dreamer, because ouch, that reflection can hurt.
But do stay on this side of the glass.
It’s where the magic is. The dreamed is a hapless victim, an accidental traveller in a foreign and often hostile land; but the Dreamer is true a creator.
And so…fortitude, Alice.
In fact, it is precisely in order to discover the looking glass and find those cracks that we have created the nightmare, in the first place. In order to remember ourselves as Dreamer. Those nightmares are our ticket to wholeness, thank you very much, and it was truly gallant of the Mad Hatter to dive through to demonstrate those broken places, over and over (!).
But when Alice is done, she’s done; once the glass is smooth and silver, so it is.
And so Alice magically mends the mirror simply by gazing at her own true reflection—which is of course her own perception of herself through the You-inverse’s eyes. She realizes herself as whole—could she ever really have been broken?
Of course not, what absolute nonsense!
Thusly relieved of their noble duty as awakeners, the Mad Hatter and Red Queen are free to frolic nicely in their respective ideal dream environments…or perhaps even better, to simply vanish along with Lewis Caroll’s drug-addled pen.
(I, for one, came to really resent being written. But Alice needn’t be authored anymore; she is ready to write herself.)
It’s a process Alice, I’m just painting you a picture here. You may have some bad days featuring 100-foot tall, scepter-wielding evil Red Queens.
And before you know it, flash forward through the rabbit hole to a Wonderland in which our heroine—a bad-a** dream warrior in a blue dress—with a portal-laden teapot in one hand and two-way looking glass in the other, of which she fully grasps that she is quantumly on both sides at once, dreaming beautiful universes into existence all day long.
Shall we all have such a dream, together, Alice?
Her eyes twinkle as she casually blows dandelion fluffs into the wind—each one a possible world—and says, to no one in particular, “Now wouldn’t that be curious?”