History excludes the unseen

Nothing ever happens in a land whose history excludes the unseen. Those who bury their dead not only forget their past; they have no future. Coyote was right when he decided that life would be too easy and boring without death, but the dead must be allowed to walk, to sing, to speak and drink and dance. Filtered and cleansed as it burbles up through the earth, the speech of the dead reaches us stripped of the impurities of time and space. The insufficient vision of eyes blinded day and night alike is polished up.

To create any new thing is to raid the Land of the Dead. But instead of looking back anxiously to see if it's true that we have the power of resurrection, we must meet the gaze of all the dead with a stare of our own, a solid, assured glare of equal weight to that of the collected eyes upon us. On returning home, we find that our hands are full and that these small gray seeds spring immediately into fruit upon the touch of light.

If reason’s sleep produces monsters, the coma of our dreams and imagining and remembering makes shoddy and boring monsters of us all.