Am I only dreaming?
My dreams have for years revealed parts of myself or have sent words of warning.
I played down their power. Saying it’s my unconscious piecing pictures together for me that I do not allow in my awakened state. Which is plausible. Without questioning their source, I always took heed.
Even when I was religious, I looked at dreams seriously.
So early this morning when I dreamt of a love, I knew it shouldn’t be written off.
In my dream I was in bed with a handsome man. He had blonde, wavy hair and smooth, tan skin.
Cradling me into his side and covering my body with a powdery blue sheet, he sighed in contentment.
I was expecting to feel comfort and bliss. Instead, I jolted with an alarming voice.
“This is childish and shallow love.”
Waking up, a question hung in the air:
“What is love?”
I of course went back to sleep immediately.
A couple of hours later and I am making coffee and setting my intentions for the day, pushing away the urge to dive into my dream and it’s haunting inquiry.
Fast forward to my mid day Kundalini class.
I’m lying flat on my mat, completely melded to the Earth. I have another visual, not curious for yoga and meditation.
I was surrounded by angels. They were dancing and giggling and pouring a beautiful golden light into my head, filling my body through the tip of my toes.
And that same dream voice declared “It’s you.”
And I cried, in public.
My first thought was “I hope I’m not disturbing the person next to me.”
My second thought being “I am love. I am perfect. There is no search for bliss or contentment. It’s me. It’s not a strong man to lay my head next to. It’s my loud, playful, passionate spirit.”
Something inside of me finally sated.
That careful facade I keep in place, not wanting to admit it, but a constant state of searching for validation and companionship finally evaporated.
Being single is weird.
When I separated from my husband, the idea of dating was so exciting. Last I dated, there were no smart phones or dating apps. This was a new world.
Being the scientist and planner that I am, I strategized and prepared.
“I would need to accept rejection and guard my feelings, while following my gut and taking leaps.”
Especially when I moved to New York. I was going on 3-4 dates a week. My all time record being 3 in one day.
I would cut it off or they would disappear. My intentions and desires were never clear to me.
I was searching for intimacy, and when it presented itself, I was too terrified to accept it.
I eventually gave up on dating.
Put away my apps, stopped making eyes on the street or wearing makeup to bars.
But both felt wrong.
I was burning.
Today I had a spiritual grilled gruyere sandwich. My burning hunger, sated.
I detach from this mentality that true fun, emotion, creativity and emotion are a reflection from my partner. The “Life is better when you share it” state.
I can live in technicolor, alone.
Thank you, angels.
Thank you, New York.
Thank you, grilled cheese.