Dreams of fiction

There are times when I want so badly to dive headlong into a story of fiction that I wonder if my dreams are still teeming with a similar caliber of passion. I timidly ask myself if it's the desire to find a connection with made-up characters, or if it's the longing for vivid creativity built on reality that draws me in.

The artistry is in the hand that draws the piece, but the effect is in the viewer's perspective and response.

I'm wont to find beauty in even the seemingly bland interactions of strangers, so if a novel, film, or show captures the idiosyncrasies that people inhabit and the varying nuances of relationships, then I am utterly captivated-- not only by the bare dialogue or inner thoughts of those I'm reading about/watching, but also by the clarity and complexities of the mirror they could potentially hold up to me and the world surrounding.

I am intrigued by the notion that I may have a slight obsession with the intricacies of people's stories-- the how, the why, the when, the WHOM by which they came to be at the exact place and time they were when I came to know about them or, better yet, where/when our paths intersected.

Maybe that's why I like reading so much, or am intrigued by character-driven cinema: because the writers of those stories freely give up [hopefully] copious amounts of deep detail of one's life and I didn't have to do a dang thing to get it except flip a page or press play. I didn't have to probe and prove annoying by asking dozens of questions to find out their history, interests, goals, worldview, etc. Besides my affinity of listening to wherever someone came from to end up where they are, it's important to me that I'm well-liked. Sometimes I'm convinced that the people I read about or watch-- fictional or not-- probably wouldn't want to spend a single minute with me, much less divulge their deepest, most authentic thoughts on life and love in an endless barrage of question/answer conversation to get to the bottom of his or her makeup. So if I'm privy to the inward intentions and past of a person but don't have to interfere directly to find those things out, then put a mark in the win column.

But I think that's the rub for me-- to seek real life relationship, I need to be intentional.

I need to do some work.

I need to show care, compassion, interest, and a true desire to actually dig into what makes my family members and friends and neighbors and strangers and so forth tick. It takes more effort than just using my eyes to follow sentences on paper or frames on a screen. It takes focus, transparency, and time. It's an unhealthy issue if I start to get more excited about the next book, episode, or sequel I'm about to devour than I do about listening to my wife describe her day or grabbing coffee with my buddy or having friends over for dinner.

I don't want the line to blur.

Artistic stories about complicated people are intriguing entertainment, enjoyable imaginative journeys, and wonderful learning tools to help color and expand my perspective, but I'm missing out on a huge chunk of living if my hope and fulfillment are found in something that is ultimately just a shadow... powerful for sure, but fundamentally only a figment that gives us glimpses of ourselves and the people around us, but never the whole, true thing: personal, lasting connection.

Or, in a word, love.

That's what I crave and dream about. That's what we live for. To experience the heart of another, to find out the different dynamics and dimensions and depths of love.

And it all points back to Him.