“What am I supposed to learn in the next life?” I asked Saint Peter as he sat down next to me on the stone bench.

“Well, I know this sounds kind of… trite, but it’s up to you what you’ll learn. There is no magic formula.”

“You’re right,” I said, frowning. “It does sound trite.”

He laughed lightly. “Fair enough. I’ll give you one; You’re supposed to learn that things you think are nothing, as weightless as air, are actually powerful substantial forces, as real as the solid earth.”

A look of confusion must have crossed my face for he added, “Take air for example. You can’t see it, yet it allows you to survive by filling your lungs: it allows birds to fly; it has substance. Much like dreams.”

“Dreams?”

“Yes. They seem like nothing more than the subconscious manifestation of your waking mind, but they have real, solid meaning. They are your guide; a way for us to speak to you.”

“So, follow our dreams?”

“Well, not blindly,” he said,with a smirk. " But you should at least pay attention to them."