Hola mi Gente...
Since I wrote about dreams yesterday, I thought I should
add an actual example of how dreams can work. I wrote the following a couple of
years ago...
* * *
The Goddess
… At every turn I am met
with her brilliance.
As of the Earth,
the Clay,
the Rivers and Streams.
with her brilliance.
As of the Earth,
the Clay,
the Rivers and Streams.
I was saved by a dream… Literally.
Not a figure of speech. I rarely ever
remember my dreams and maybe this is a good thing, considering what the fuck
kinda shit dwells in my subconscious. However, there was one unforgotten dream some
years ago that had a tremendous impact on my life. In fact, after that dream I
was never the same person -- changed me completely. And, get this, I don’t even
remember its details!
Nonsense, you say? Read on…
Several years ago, my life was
imploding. Everything that I had worked towards, or valued, seemed to be
unraveling before my eyes. My committed relationship of about eight years was
on the rocks. Actually, it was barely breathing, it was waiting for someone to
mercifully shoot it. I was in my senior year of my undergraduate studies and I
was so burnt out that I couldn’t retain any more information. A straight A
student, my grades were plummeting and I was having a hard time finding meaning
in it all. To complicate matters, I couldn’t get a job to save my life.
It was a strange time, looking back,
because though I realized things were coming to a head on many fronts, it
seemed as if I were just floating around there for a bit. As if it were all
happening, and I was there witnessing all of this, but unable to do anything
about it.
The relationship dissolved (amicably,
at least), I barely escaped my senior year, and had gone on to a prestigious graduate
school which I had to leave for a job and that’s where it all started. I was
working for an East Harlem non-profit as a life skills trainer where I met a
woman. A co-worker, she was half my age, and I really didn’t think she was
interested, but eventually she let her feelings known. Actually, what she said
was, “Don’t you ever get it?” during dinner once. Yes, I can be dense and sometimes
I don’t “get it.”
Anyway, I’m dating this really young
lady and at first, my attraction to her was minimal. In fact, I was really all
that into her. I mean, she was pretty, intelligent, and we shared common
interests. We spent some time going to museums, discussing poetry, discussing
books, taking walks, etc. Still, I never felt any overwhelming feelings of attraction.
But I digress, I need to make my point.
Well, one thing led to another and she
let on that her feelings for me were more than casual. I think the “L” word was
mentioned somewhere in there, and though there were red flags and alarms
screaming all over the place (too complicated to discuss here), I allowed
myself to entertain the possibility that the feelings were mutual. This woman
was 25 years old to my 43. And while, yes, age is only a number, the fact was
that my priorities and frames of reference were much different from hers. As a
result, eventually she “fell out” of love and I was left stuck. I had talked
myself into love. We split and I was taking it pretty bad. Looking back, I
realize now that what I felt was not love -- Maybe it was some form of an
obsession more than anything else. I mean, I didn’t do anything overly stupid
like stalk her, or act out on my compulsions, but I was definitely in a lot of
pain.
So, there I was, a cold, rainy Friday
night and I go home, just wanting to lie down. I fall for the dumb move of
calling her and when her voicemail came on, I hung up, and pulled the covers
over my head with the intention of sleeping forever. And that’s when The Dream
happens…
I’m in deep pain and I go to sleep.
Maybe it wasn’t just this girl, but the accumulation of everything that had
happened over the previous year: relationship break up, education, not being
there with my son everyday -- I felt like I was in a boxing match and losing
big time. I went to sleep shrouded in a deep, intense sorrow.
I dream. I don’t remember the specifics
of the dream, the content, but the feelings -- damn! -- the feeling of the
dream is what I remember. In the dream, there is a woman in my life, I don’t
know or remember exactly what she looks like. I remember her eyes and her
smile. But that isn’t important. What’s important is that in this dream this
woman loved me in a way I have never experienced in my life. The love is
so palpable that it infuses me with joy, washing away my sorrow as if it were dirt.
I get this very real feeling of being
loved so completely, so totally that it seems as if my very being is
transformed on a cellular level. In the dream, this woman knows everything
about me: from my most insightful thoughts to the most pornographic. She knows
it all, the good and the bad, everything, and yet she still loves
me completely, without condition. In the dream, I remember hearing her voice
because all I remember is that she was walking laughing with some of my friends
-- she was on a journey to reunite with me. But I get the real sense that she
loves me and I am filled with a total, pure, unconditional love in this dream
and I’m ecstatic!
Then I wake up…
But this is the kicker: the feeling in
the dream? It’s still there! I’m filled with this incredible sense of
being loved that seems to come from the very core of my being. It’s not an
over-the-top “gee-I’m-so-happy” type feeling, but rather a calm presence at my
center, washing away my fears and doubts. It’s as if the woman in my dream
connected me to the very essence of love itself.
I never tried to analyze this dream,
but a part of me intuitively sensed that that woman in my dream wasn’t
someone else, but an aspect of myself. I didn’t get this by thinking about it;
I sensed it in my body. At least that’s how I remember experiencing The Dream.
Since that day, yes, I have experienced
sadness, anger, disappointment – the full catastrophe of life – but nothing,
not even death and loss, has ever taken away this joy at the core of my being.
It is truly invincible. Sometimes, when I’m challenged or the big illusions of life
-- you, know, death, rebirth, taxes, finances, blah blah blah -- obscures this
connection, but it is never very far from my awareness.
Now I have discovered that I was
mistaken about the nature of this dream. It wasn’t an “aspect of myself” that
loved me in this powerful way. Not really. The dream was pointing me to a road
I needed to travel. It was pointing me to the opening of my heart because the
more I open, the stronger this presence is in my life. When I close, I lose
contact; when I open, the contact becomes stronger. It’s not about “me.” It’s
about the dissolving of the fake wall that separates “me” from you.
Perhaps, in a way, it was about the
Woman of my Dreams.
My name is Eddie and I’m in recovery
from civilization…
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