I dreamt I was about to go out in front of an audience, in a play. I thought, That’s not me, then I thought, Well I obviously chose to do it, I must have signed up, gone to rehearsals and so on, been a willing participant, so it obviously is me now.
Are dreams something to do with it? I dreamed of walking though the ruins of a once grand hotel, all red velvet, mahogany and broken mirrors, with arty alternative people, smouldering bonfires, and a cool punk band playing in the bandstand. Twenty years ago this would have been the place of my dreams but I didn’t stop, I just walked on past. I was hungry, I was looking for toasted sandwiches and a cup of tea.
Are dreams a pictorial version, an easy-read explanation of The Field of Possibilities and how to navigate and understand it? As well as showing me that the things that I liked 20 years ago, however much I liked them, it is okay to not be interested in them now.
For the first time in forever I haven’t got a to do list or a pile of lists of half done things or scribbles on leaflets. Stuff is done, put in the diary or on the mantelpiece or does not need to be written down (not that that used to stop me). This is so much more momentous than it sounds.
‘Fall into the Vortex and let the Universe do its stuff’. And this is what it does- it sorts everything out with the minimum of fuss, stress and effort (all you have to do is meditate).
I get hot, a lot of heat, hands, feet and heart, tingly, itchy, uncomfortable, like it’s burning through me, burning away all my mistakes, regrets, who I used to be. Leaving only who I am now, who I am, who am I? Who am I? Echoes back, just an echo?
Is anything we experience just a sonar echo, just ourselves, plumbing and gauging the depths, pretending there’s something else out there when really we are all alone. Except that we aren’t all alone, we have ourselves.
Last night’s meditation: burning, searing, at my heart, clearing old issues, attitudes to middle age and also accepting my age and accepting that a lot of my antipathy was due to how I felt about myself getting older. (I used to be very down on salt and pepper bobs, parrot earrings and yoga cliques; I was searching for my own role model)
Scary dream re Sydney bridge: wobbly, huge, glass floor, felt as if could fall in, etc, then the morning after I read in a magazine about ‘housewife dreams’- the nicer and calmer you have to be during the day, the more violent your dreams! Maybe it’s the same with getting braver in the day= being scared in dreams?
Thank you very much for reading