Archives for posts with tag: dream

Always listen for gratitude.
You will hear it in your soul.

**

Pray more–
trust and listen between gentle waves
that ebb and flow beneath the stars and the moon–
the great stretch of the universe and beyond–with all its mystery and potentiality.

**

Dream as far as you can.
Look through the blades of grass;
they will tell you something about transformation–about life.

**

Celebrate the spirit
whenever you can.
Begin with questions,
picture it,
dream it!

**

Look out into the meadow and
see the possibilities
spread out before you.
Touch them and smell them
with all of your senses–
like miniature seeds
waiting to bloom.

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Two nights ago on September 1, 2013 at 1:36 a.m., it rained for less than 60 seconds.

I had just gotten out of bed to brush my teeth. When I laid back down, I heard pitter-pat pitter-pat. I kept listening in disbelief. Raining? It was so hot today. I listened for a few seconds more, then I rushed out to the living room to tell M. He was about to come wake me up to tell me the same, but he said he wasn’t sure he should wake me.

We looked outside together but couldn’t see the rain. We couldn’t even hear it. I told him it was a good thing we didn’t paint the table and benches today–the old weathered table and benches we found at an estate sale two Sunday’s ago. That table in its weathered state reminded me of my grandfather and of the outside tables and chairs that he used to make with his own two hands–the chairs I used to sit in. I wondered if they were still there or if my uncle had thrown them out.

Then–the rain was gone like it never happened. I went back to sleep with a smile on my face. A few moments, right after I laid back down, I could smell the faint smell of wet earth. What a wonderful smell. My smile grew.

Two nights ago, I dreamt of my mother. I rarely dream about her, which I told my uncle recently when he told me that he had dreamed of her. He said, “My sister looked really happy,” as he choked back a small rise of emotion.

Her memory is entwined with my existence.

For a great stretch of my life, I tried to live in a way that would give her spirit a second chance at life, to live in a way that would bring her the peace that she didn’t seem to have for the short period of time I knew her. I still have that on my mind, but it has become more embedded within my soul, and in some ways I feel as though both of our spirits have come together in harmony, and now I don’t focus on her peace any longer because I think we reached it together–her peace.

When I look into the mirror, as the years have gone by, more and more, the reflection looking back has glimmers of her; when I see certain pictures of myself, I see her smile; when I cry after reading a short story, I think of her; when I witness certain acts of kindness, I remember the things my mother did for others; when I think of how sometimes it’s easier to open up and reach out to strangers more so than family, I think of my mother; when my temper gets the best of me, I am my mother. The positive and the negative are within me. I accept that. I work on and nurture what I can.

It’s comforting to know she’s with me and within me–that I recognize her.

Two night’s ago, I dreamt of my mother. I was in a hospital looking for her. In the dream I think she may have been in an accident. I don’t remember. I went to one room–room 103. There was a sign in the hall leading to the rooms that said for staff only. I tried to go down the hall, but I was cutoff and somehow the nurse knew where I was going, who I was looking for. My mother had been moved into another room. She pointed to the next hall of rooms and told me I would find her in there. I was hoping she was alone.

As I walked into the room, I saw her resting. She had a glow around her and her salt and pepper hair was mostly dark brown and glistened. She immediately sensed me, opened her eyes and gave me the warmest most peaceful smile. I went to her, beaming with a smile of my own, I bent my head down to her and rested it in the crook of her neck in her nest of hair and breathed her in as though I hadn’t seen her in forever.

She smelled like the rain.

Ten nights ago, I dreamt that we were being chased by a lion. We were in the hills. I had a small sausage with me, like one of those Hickory Farms Summer Sausages. I started tearing off chunks when we saw the lion, tossing the pieces in the direction we were not going, hoping to confuse him. We started running down the hill. I didn’t sense the lion behind us any longer.

When we reached the bottom of the hill, there were others and a car, built like a deck of cards; it caved in on itself when we approached. There was no protection from the hungry beast. In the distance, I thought I heard growls and rustling, then I saw two gazelle. They were being hunted by the lion; the attention was lifted from us, at least for the time being.

It’s going to be a busy day at work today and I planned on going in early for my own sake and I have class tonight, which I’m not sure I will make. It depends on how the day unfolds. I’ll have to take it a moment at a time. I did decide that I needed to write and that I would go in a bit later, so that I can do this one thing for myself first.

A book has been brought back into my consciousness after a fellow blogger mentioned it as a book that changed his life. That book is Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment. I do recall having this book. It’s one of many that got away with my last move. It’s a book that was part of several in a class I took long ago; then again in another class, the teacher couldn’t praise it enough.

Since the book had been brought back into my awareness, while browsing the shelves of the second hand store recently, there was a copy there peering back at me as thought it had been waiting for me; I invited the book back to its home in my own shelves. I have been reading it for a few moments each morning before I get out of bed to start the day. I have nodded my head in agreement and feel that I’m visiting a familiar place, an old friend.

I believe that certain things, whether experiences, moments, books–the possibilities are plentiful–as long as we are paying attention, what we need will surface. The Power of Now has reminded me of the strong influence the Vietnamese Buddhist Monk Thich Nhat Hanh has had on my life, and takes me back to when I first saw him speak and then purchased one of his books nearly 20 years ago. I don’t look to him as a guru by any means, and I don’t think he’d want that. Instead, I look to what makes common sense to me: the practice of mindfulness, compassion, love, understanding, nature, and being in the present moment.

Through these many years, I feel that finding and being in the present moment is there for me to enter when I choose, when I choose to let go and surrender to it–not think, but do. Since rediscovering The Power of Now, I feel that certain spokes of the wheel are reconnecting and opening further.

I’ve been thinking about my past angers and I feel that, without being able to say why, The Power of Now, opened up something in me that allowed me to frame what I’ve been thinking about for so long and put it to the page. I started to write about it a few days ago, an image of my childhood that I’ve often thought about, but never felt comfortable putting to the page, even to my personal pages; I finally did, and I went on for four pages and it took a different direction and became entwined with work. I was overwhelmed with how much there was to edit if I want to post it to my blog. I view it as part of my memoirs, for that is the type of writing that I am most drawn to, that, the essay form, and journal writing.

In the past several days, I’ve been finding my mantra to be the single word, “now” to bring me into the present, especially at work or if I find I’d like to slow my thoughts down.

**
A Dream – From my journal (Sunday, April 8)

Last night when I became aware of the music that almost always comes through the apartment walls, I said in my mind, “now, now…” I dreamed last night I was in a situation where my death was before me. I don’t remember how I got into the situation, but I was standing there with someone aiming a crossbow at my throat. I think I heard someone shriek or make a sound of fear. I said, “it’s ok.” And I remember I kept saying, “now, now” to myself. “This is now.” I accepted the situation and became my own witness. I concentrated on the present moment and a calm overtook my being. I think I remember the click of the arrow releasing. The dream ended.

Today feels like a good day.

I had strange dreams last night and the only remnant of one that stands out is of a giant squid body of some sort. I remember squatting in the dirt separating white and black noodles for dinner. They were very thin and the black noodles were actually worms and I didn’t like touching them. I needed to separate them, so that I could prepare the white noodles for dinner. We were somewhere far away and had nearly escaped. I was about to dispose of the huge bulbous body when someone said, “stop! that’s the best part. Look inside, you’ll see thousands and thousands of rice kernels.” I lifted the skirt of this squid-like mass and saw that indeed there were kernels that looked like miniature puffed wheat that could feed the masses. They looked lovely hidden beneath the purplish body of this interesting creature that seemed illuminated inside. It felt warm and protected.

Each year I go to Barnes & Noble and select a few daily calendars at 50% off. I like having at least three because I have trouble settling on just one. Two are the same from last year: The Book Lover’s Calendar and The Argyle Sweater, which has proved to be quite funny. The third is a word calendar of archaic words. The print is so tiny I struggle to read the entries. I had spotted a Dot-to-Dot calendar that day, but decided against it. After stumbling upon some directly unrelated websites on learning and creativity, I decided to go back and get the Dot-to-Dot for home. I vaguely remember doing these as a child. I would like to improve my drawing and way of interpreting shapes and that’s how I decided to get this calendar. I’ve found it to be quite relaxing. It has become my evening ritual. I try to guess what the image might be and then I begin connecting the dots. And Voila, a surprising image will appear. Yesterday was a pair of sunglasses and at the suggestion of my significant other, I drew in bloodshot eyeballs, a nose, and a mouth with teeth and tongue hanging out. It looks funny. I like it.

I’ve resisted for months on purchasing a wireless Apple keyboard. The time came about a week ago, and it’s great. The iPad is fast becoming my main computer. It’s more convenient and I don’t have to strain my wrist with a mouse or a laptop touchpad for every move I make, and I much prefer the way the keys feel under my fingers with the wireless keyboard. My laptop was becoming sluggish, and because I don’t use a desk or table these days to write, it became awkward to hold it in my lap when I type.

I’m having trouble deciding which fiction book to read next. I have so many unread books on my shelves and Kindle and I couldn’t find one that truly grabbed me. I did begin one story that was a freebie on Amazon for Kindle: Awake in the Mad World by Damon Farrell Marbut. I haven’t formed an opinion on it yet. It has some good moments in dialogue and seems to flow alright. I want to keep at it, give it a chance, though I did almost give up.

The last book of December that I finished that I thoroughly enjoyed was The Dog that Talked to God by Jim Kraus. This is such a sweet story. I happened to get it for free thanks to the Kindle blog that I follow. The Kindle price is currently $8.54. Anyway, this was a sweet, heartfelt story about a widowed woman and a dog that comes into her life and how the two forge together to find a new life. I love coming across books that I might normally not find. This one left me feeling uplifted and satisfied.

I think it’s time for me to browse the library’s bookshelves–to find my next reading adventure.

In preparation for my upcoming class and because I’ve become more and more curious about the topic, I found a book on Amazon that I’ve begun: Theories of Childhood: An Introduction to Dewey, Montessori, Erikson, Piaget, and Vygotsky.

There are also a handful of books that I’ve downloaded samples for and a book or two on hold from the library related to this area.

This morning I felt the need to pull The Right to Write: An Invitation and Initiation into the Writing Life by Julia Cameron. It’s a book that I’ve read slowly over the years and that I look to for inspiration. I actually followed through on today’s exercise–or rather, the exercise I landed on for the day. It was to write down 25 wishes, big or small. I did so in my personal journal. This was the perfect exercise for today–just what I needed! Cameron suggests that we do this exercise once a month or when we are feeling scattered. I have definitely been feeling scattered and this exercise gave me a gentle nudge. I even began a short story that’s been tugging at me for weeks and maybe even months.

Tuesday’s seem to be good days.

Happy writing and creating!