2024-06-09 - [2.4] We are such stuff as dreams are made on ...

The growing creature in the egg twitches and then twitches again. Growing is difficult. There has been so much so much change, and so much new information coming inwards from outside. From the others, their babbles and emotions raw and unformed and uncontrolled and all the time all the time.

Sometimes the I is excited. Still bold and grand and projecting to others. But other times, it is all just too much. The creature twitches, the creature dreams, the creature can't process, the creature feels fear and shadows and it is all too much and even here, it is not safe and the others will not stop.

The egg is distressed, it cries out not in words but in the unmistakeable wail that says to mother - where is mother? - help me I am small and I am afraid and I need you.

And then ... the great gold wings of mother's dreaming are beating and the baby is borne aloft with her, feeling what she is feeling, the wind beneath mother's wing, (the wind beneath my wings?) and the distress is gone. Instead, the little one laughs, and babbles with joy!