Ground not upon dreams; you know they are ever contrary.

“Ground not upon dreams; you know they are ever contrary.” – Thomas Middleton

Hear, O seeker of truth, the warning voice of Thomas Middleton, the English playwright and poet of the seventeenth century—a man who walked among both the shadows and splendors of human thought. His words echo through time like the tolling of a solemn bell: “Ground not upon dreams; you know they are ever contrary.” In this, he speaks not against the beauty of dreams, but against the folly of building one’s life upon them. For dreams, whether those that visit us in sleep or those that flicker in waking fancy, are fickle guides. They shift and contradict, promising kingdoms in the night and leaving us in the morning with only dust. Middleton, who wrote in an age of both superstition and awakening reason, warns us to walk not by illusion but by truth, not by hope alone but by wisdom.

To ground upon dreams is to mistake visions for foundations, clouds for stone. Dreams may inspire, but they cannot bear weight; they are the whispers of the imagination, not the laws of the universe. Middleton knew this well, for he lived in a world where prophecy, omens, and divine signs were sought by kings and commoners alike. Yet he saw, with the clarity of a dramatist’s eye, how men and women who trusted too much in visions often met ruin. Dreams, he says, are “ever contrary”—they deceive, they conflict, they lead astray. They promise greatness to one night’s mind and despair to the next. To ground one’s purpose upon them is to build upon shifting sand, and when the storm comes, the house will surely fall.

The ancients themselves wrestled with this truth. The Greeks believed that dreams were messages from the gods, but even their wise men, like Aristotle, warned that not all dreams bore meaning. The Romans, too, sought omens in sleep, yet they knew that fate favored the vigilant more than the dreamer. Middleton’s words stand in that same lineage of wisdom: they remind us that life is not ruled by visions, but by action, patience, and discernment. To dream is human; to live by dream alone is perilous. For the dream, though beautiful, is a mirror of our desires—and desire, when untested by reason, can lead us into shadow.

Consider the story of Don Quixote, the knight of Cervantes’ great tale. He was a man of noble heart but misguided imagination, who grounded his life upon dreams of chivalry long dead. In his mind, windmills were giants, and tavern maids were princesses. His courage was real, his vision pure, but his foundation was false. Though he inspired laughter, he also inspired pity—for he lived not in truth, but in contradiction, forever at war with the world as it was. Thus we see Middleton’s wisdom embodied: dreams may give purpose, but when they are mistaken for reality, they become chains instead of wings.

Yet let no one mistake his counsel for cynicism. To reject dreams altogether is to deny one of the soul’s great powers. Middleton’s warning is not to forsake imagination, but to temper it. Dreams are the fire that warms the spirit, but when left untended, they consume. The wise man does not extinguish them; he contains them within the hearth of discipline. He dreams not to escape reality, but to illuminate it. The dreamer who also works, who turns vision into practice, builds bridges where others only see clouds. But the one who grounds his faith upon fantasy alone will forever wander between disappointment and delusion.

In this, Thomas Middleton speaks to the eternal balance between dream and reason, hope and labor. He urges us to be architects of reality, not prisoners of imagination. To walk with one’s head in the heavens is noble, but to keep one’s feet upon the earth is wisdom. The dream must serve the deed, or it will betray the dreamer. For dreams are ever contrary—they delight one moment and deceive the next. Only through discernment, through patience and purpose, can we separate the sacred vision from the vain illusion.

So, my child of contemplation, let this be your guide: dream greatly, but ground deeply. Build your tower of hope, but set its foundation in truth. When a vision stirs your heart, test it against reason; when inspiration visits, bind it with effort. Let your dreams be stars that guide your course, not clouds that obscure your sight. For the one who grounds upon dreams alone will drift with every changing wind, but the one who builds upon truth will stand unmoved, even when all illusions fade.

Thus, remember Middleton’s words: “Ground not upon dreams.” Let your dreams kindle your fire, but let wisdom shape its flame. For dreams alone are contrary—but dreams united with action are eternal.