In many ways we all exist within a Limbo of our own making. We construct our own private dream-worlds simply in the act of choosing which news stories to read, sheltering from the reality of death and pain, and of our own smallness. We build the boundaries of our personal universe in deciding morality, meaning and truth for ourselves. But these are fragile fantasies. Intoxicating though such 'freedom' might seem at first, experience turns it sour because somewhere deep inside such a way of living rings false. And, like a still-spinning top catching the corner of the eye - or like the prick of a guilty conscience - hints of a greater reality intrude.
'It wasn't so bad at first,' Cobb says of his time in Limbo. 'Feeling like gods. But in the end, none of it was real. It became impossible for me to live like that.' The Bible says that we, like Mal locking her totem away in a safe, have wilfully exiled ourselves from the truth about reality. Our rejection of God's reality for self-centred worlds of our own making has resulted in our alienation from him and from his design for our lives. Without him, we are dreaming unawares, spending our days building sandcastles on an imagined shore. 'We lost sight of what was real,' and as a result we no longer truly know who we are or what we are living for.