At 2:30AM I awoke in a sweat. My mind stumbled out of a dream running barefoot trying to find my way. Right, left, which way to go? My mind trying to figure out the options while gazing down dark alleys. Even with open eyes, still in the dark, my sleeping dream melded with the waking dream as I pondered which path to choose.
It is no different asleep or awake. We are Dreaming all of the time. This concept is at the heart of Buddhist, Vedic & Toltec teachings as well as other mystery schools. From this point of view we are responsible for how we interpret our creation, our dream. The big difference is in the asleep dream there is no frame. So the projection of the personal dream is unencumbered – and to the one seeking awareness – more obvious.
In my awake dream I feel the fear of not knowing. My mind’s response is to figure it out. I can’t fall back asleep as I have fallen out of faith. Faith in myself and life. So I begin to breathe deeply. Allowing the emotion to course through. What shows up is a sensation in my chest. A tightening. So I breathe deeper. The thing I haven ’t been communicating reveals itself. My mind says this has nothing to do with the fears. But my heart knows better than to rationalize and defend. I chose to feel and un-figure it out.
What I resist will persist + slowdown my process of transformation. Tears well up as in my heart I know. I must surrender & let go of comforts and securities. I go with my gut, void of control because if I don’t express my truth I’ll never find my way home to the center. The more aligned I am with my integrity, the more I hear the inner voice of my heart. I listen, I breathe. The stories in my mind continue to bubble up. More waves of emotion free up. The desire to hold myself. I feel scared, alone. Will I make it?
I’ve been deluding myself with lies and forgetting my connection with all of life, falling from Grace. How many times? It really doesn’t matter. What matters is … do I wake up from the foggy illusion of fear? I keep breathing as I desire my faith more than anything else. The truth is I’ve always been taken care of. I’ve always been shown my next steps when I expose my truth with courage and humility. How else could I be successful with my life? How else could I live with myself free of guilt, shame and doubt?
I can’t figure it out in my mind and thank goodness. Give it a rest trying to figure everything out. In my heart, knowingness burns brightly in the present moment. And in each moment that follows. I begin to relax riding the waves of breath. I am home again. I forgive myself for falling asleep again. I welcome myself with open arms and tears of reunion from my best and dearest long lost friend. My own heart. I love me so. I tell myself I’ll do better and really try not to leave again. My heart knows that it can happen again and has total faith that I will always return, no matter what. It’s just a matter of time. Now I’m ready to write a different version of the story. A new interpretation full of wonder in the unknown rather than fear. My creativity is sparked from the reunion in my heart. Sweet Dreams!
Do I dare,
Do I dare take a peak through the wild woods
That entangle the landscape?
How could I not?
Life is not worth living
Without my beloved.
The web of weeds and brush is thinning
In the barren winter landscape.
Now there’s no point hiding in the forest.
I am coming out
Full throttle with the voice of a lark.
Can you hear my song?
I am dancing on the chords with ecstatic abandon.
Remember taking that shower and not giving any thought to who is listening,
With your Heart spread in a huge smile,
The warm water penetrating the flesh.
Ahhh,, such sweetness is the gift of my melody.
Halleluiah, Halleluiah, Halleluiah, Halleluiah
hot on elephant
July’s Full Moon in Capricorn: The Heart wants what it Wants. The 4 Stages of a Good Divorce. How to Love a Woman who Scares You. Our Soulmates are Rarely Who We Expect. I Still Think of You. Men, Let’s Stop Fooling Ourselves: Size Matters. To the One Who Tried to Break Me. An Open Letter to the Fixers. How your Stored Memories in the Amygdala can lead to PTSD. How My Sister’s Death Transformed my Self-Perception.