Weird Dream... Maybe

So many things have happened over the last week. Some big things but the little signs have been the things that are stuck in my mind. This is what's been happening.

I had this dream; a very strange dream. I was in some sort of class, everyone was taking a turn looking at this ruin. We were in the field, a field trip but in the jungle or something. This ruin was a cave. It was cream colored inside and had beautiful, intricate carvings that covered the entire interior surface of the cave. You had to lay down to see the carvings but when you did everything changed. Your thoughts controlled the cave. Once you were inside you became consumed with the images, almost paralyzed. The floor rose. Hopeless thoughts, sad thoughts, painful memories made the cave floor rise. You could feel the warmth of the stone, hear the soft grinding of the floor moving against the walls; the sound was mesmerizing. The more your thoughts consumed you the less room you had, the cave was suffocating you, squeezing the life out of you. You could feel it; you could feel yourself dying, blacking out, not caring.

But when you thought of joyful things the opposite happened. The more you let the joy, hope, love fill you, the more room you had. Big draws of breath, fresh air, and relief then overwhelmed you. It was interminable; fear, sorrow, hopelessness and imminent death or joy, optimism, hope and life. I don't think the message is too hard to decipher.

Fast on the heels of this dream was a beautiful, thoughtful gift from a dear friend far away, signs of others' lives moving forward, and the soft knock of opportunity. Life reinforcing what is, what is no more, and what could be. All reasons to be joyous. It's interesting to feel like God is talking directly to you.

How does he always know?

Sometimes, I feel like I hear exactly what I need to but from the oddest places. I started to write a longer post, but sometimes less is more. Suffice it to say that if you're looking for answers, just ask the questions and then pay attention. The truth will find you.

Where am I, really?

For the last few weeks I've been listening to Celine Dion (A New Day Has Come) and convincing myself that Prince Charming was just around the corner. I told myself to just be patient, to be kind, and continue imagining Mr. Right. I've pictured lots of details related to Mr. Right and imagined what life with him would be like, all the "visualization" tools you're supposed to use at work. I even convinced myself that I was being patient and just allowing myself time to work through recent challenges; that I didn't want to rush into dating again. It's true I'm not a serial-dater, nor have I ever successfully juggled dating several men at a time, but it's been eight months since I've even kissed a man.

Then today, Antonio calls out of the blue. I listened to the message, twice. He's still not right for me. I still don't want to date him again. I still called him back. He wants to have lunch. The gist of it was that he was bored driving somewhere and thought to call me. I'm a resource again and having a friendship with me looks good to his boss because of my role with the DOT. I get it. It sucks. He's the last man I kissed, the last man to make love to me, and the last man I allowed into my life. It all went horribly wrong of course and I behaved very badly. So why did that brief conversation send me into a tailspin?

I know I'm not still hung up on him but I can't seem to move past how awful that relationship was. It was wonderful, beyond words, in the beginning but it all fell apart as things evolved and I made so many mistakes. I don't want to make the same mistakes again. I don't know what I do wrong with men. I know all the logic behind my relationship woes but I'm sick to death of all of it.

Easter

Interesting... Talk about God working in mysterious ways. I started a post about my weekend, it started rough but ended great thanks to LN, Stefan, and Angie. Oddly enough, I was writing, feeling bad, and had written a fair amount about the bad part.... I lost the whole thing. I know, I know, the "non-believers" (lol) will say, "A computer glitch, Mel, does not constitute a message from God." Why not though?

Why can't God talk to us through little things that interrupt our thoughts and redirect us to what's important? LN made sure, against my initial resistence, that I had a wonderful family filled Easter. Stefan came to see me and he's happy and doing well. Angie wrote and I'll be able to talk to her soon. Blessings all, I'd say.

Everyone has heartache in life. Mine has overwhelmed me over the last year or so. I've not lost sight of my blessings though. I'm very aware of all that I have to be grateful for. It's time for me to refocus. Easter is about hope, about the resurrection of Christ, about the inability of the actions of man to overcome the will of God. We pray, some go to Church, and we recognize this holiday (holy day) but why not take it's meaning and history and apply it literally in life? Why not allow yourself to be filled with faith and courage? Can't today be the beginning of a new life? Can't everyday be a new beginning if we want it to be? We struggle, we slip and sometimes we fall but everyday that we're blessed to see a new sunrise is a day we can spend doing our best again.

The Gift

Journal Entry: January 28, 2010

"Last night was one of the most beautiful nights I've ever experienced. I'm at a hotel in Wickenburg, Arizona. It's not fair to call it a hotel. Sixty years of running a ranch, home, a family. The people here are sweet. They're kind and unassuming. The rooms are little bungalows, not too fancy, but comfortable and very "Arizona." There's a calm, a peacefulness here that is soothing to my soul. A reminder that I come from a simpler place. That life is meant, for me at least, to run at a different pace. I've become a product of my environment but I'm being drawn back to my roots; not family roots but spiritual roots. Sitting here writing, looking out over the expanse of the beautiful Arizona desert, the mountains on the horizon, I feel it calling to me. I can't remember ever feeling this before. My mind strays continually to last night.

I walked outside after dinner to be struck by the sight of the evening sky. I was in awe. I was looking at the sky as much as I was looking at the road as I made my way back to my room. I pulled the comforter off the bed and laid on the patio lounge. I stared at the moon. It was full. Watching the clouds, I whispered my question to the universe, "Mary, where are you? You can't be gone. I miss you so much. I can still feel you." Tears streaming, I watched the clouds dance across the face of the moon. The dark from the night sky played with the bright light of the moon, reflecting off the clouds.

It started as an absence of clouds, like someone had taken their finger and ran it first one way and then another; across and then down. Almost the shape of a cross but the clouds filled in some areas and left others dark. The shape of a woman formed. It was as if the woman was dancing, looking up, with her arms flung wide in abandonment and joy. Her hair was streaming around her and her face was wise, serene, like she had all the answers in the universe and was marvelling and celebrating them. I watched as the image became more and more clear. I watched it float across the moon; a fluid, graceful, ancient, female spirit.

I was distracted for a moment and looked away. When I looked back at the sky, there wasn't a cloud in sight. The night was pitch black with only the moon in a blanket of dark velvet."

Every time I look at the full moon, I think of Mary. I miss you and love you, my friend. Thank you for the gift of the moon.

Kindred Spirit

I just read a blog post written by my dearest friend. As I read it, I could feel her pain, attempt at optimism, guilt over expressing her disappointment, and hope. Hope that some day things would return to "normal." My friend is one of those people who lights up a room just by walking into it. She gives and gives and gives. She takes care of everyone but especially me.

In her post she wrote about feeling like a spectator in her life. Interestingly enough, another dear friend also wrote about life's experiences. She shared a passage that expressed that life brings you the experiences you need to have to more fully evolve as a human being. Naturally, it was much more eloquently stated than that, but the combition of writing gives me pause.

There are so many days that I have to concentrate on the next immediate thing, not looking too forward or too far back, lest I become overwhelmed. I have to concentrate on not allowing myself to get consumed with sadness. I have to keep myself so busy that I don't have time to notice how alone I am. I don't want to become one of those people other people dread hearing from.

I look back sometimes at the things I'm doing, at what I'm trying to accomplish, and I think "Wow, that's pretty cool." I kind of feel some times like I am making a difference, like I might actually be helping people, and that maybe someone somewhere is feeling encouraged by what I'm doing. I watch, like a spectator, like my friend's post. It's all just going by. It's felt like that for so long. What if that's just life? What if my lessons or experiences never lead to more than this? What if I end up the crazy old lady with all the dogs?

Tourist

Ah to be a tourist. Maybe someday I'll get to stay.