Message In A Dream

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I had that same dream again last night. The one in which I am trying to put contacts into my eyes. Odd thing is, the contacts are the size of dinner plates. I realize that I’m trying to put something way too big into my eyes and, though I feel rushed,I try nonetheless. I feel the world on my shoulders. It’s hard to breathe.

In similar dreams I’ve had over the years, the contacts are dirty but I insert them anyway. There’s always so much activity around me and I feel pressured to hurry up already and get to seeing. There’s stuff to do, people need me to help them, the show must go on.

In reality, I am blind as a bat. Started wearing contacts at thirteen. The doctor had thought that perhaps the contacts would stop my eyes from further deterioration as I was entering prime hormonal fluctuation and already couldn’t see the big E at the top of the chart from three feet away.

This recurrent dream usually leaves me unsettled the next day. It has today, right on par. I looked up the dream meaning of “trying to put contacts that are too big or dirty into your eyes” – was surprised to see that I’m not alone in this exact dream. That said, I found minimal explanation.

As I’ve pondered it for myself all day, I’ve decided that perhaps it may be my “inside knower”, my guts, my instinct, the God in me, the Spirit, that Source of Love and Truth, showing me that I can get to feeling overwhelmed with all the activity around me and that I feel unusually responsible for everyone… and, perhaps, life was too much for me early on, during my childhood. No shame towards my parents. I have five children myself now and I am aware of my shortcomings regarding parenting them. This is life. But I’d like to learn. Learn from this. Grow. Evolve. Share. Help. Guide.

And so I’ve listened. 

Listened to my body.

Today, my body craves comfort. I don’t want to just be comforted, to be told I’ll be okay or to further unpack my story; I ache to feel comforted. In my body. Held. Warmed. Cared about. Protected. Seen. That the sensations of safety and security would seep into my bones. So that my body could finally relax, breathe, smile.

This little voice in my head has been whispering, “Go out to the freezer and grab another bag of Christmas cookies.” Cookies, for whatever reason, have always made me feel comforted, grounded, distracted from the pain of living, happy if even for the few minutes while I eat them.

I hung out in disordered eating for thousands of years. Okay, not that many. Felt like it, though. I didn’t understand the connection between the cravings of cookies and the cravings of Love. So I overate, overexercised to compensate, and was altogether quite confused about what the fuck had just happened. And, about a week later, it would happen all over again. Forward a thousand years. 

Today is a celebration for I have understood that there’s minimal efficacy in trying to “make sense” in my mind space of things that happened when I was in my tender, influential growing up years. I realize that it is my physical body that has somehow stored up these memories and is then oozing out a vibe that says, “comfort me; I am in pain.”

I don’t need to understand so much as I need to comfort.

Less mind; more body.

I can’t make the past go away, can’t change it. But I can sit with the feelings that still reside in my body and hold myself gently, kindly, with much compassion. I can rock them, rock the little girl, and rock this adult woman. I can thank my body for giving me the cookie-message, thank my spirit for intuiting that I crave sweet love as well as sugar cane, and thank my mind for reminding me that I have time to get under the electric blanket and take a nap before my meeting.

Life happens. Messy, confusing situations by messed-up, confused souls. And yet. This is life. A life – may I emphasize – still shining with happy memories and well-intentioned people. And so.

Hate does not drive out hate. Only love can do that. – Martin Luther King, Jr.

And so. I hold myself with great compassion… so that I can heal and eventually hold everyone with great compassion. It is what will heal us all: compassion. Because, on some level, we are all hurting. 

An eye for an eye leaves everybody blind. – Martin Luther King, Jr.

And so. Breathe.

Love whispers, “there’s healing yet to manifest, dear One.” I know this. I am believing for it. 

So even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. – Martin Luther King, Jr.

I snuggle into the warmth of the blanket, relax into the sway of the rocker, and smile as the taste of a sweet Christmas cookie nestles into my belly. 

I’m on a journey. I can see this clearly now.

Writing Every Day Down,

In gratitude & wonder.

YOUR JOURNAL PROMPT:

• Do you have any recurring dreams? You may find it helpful to journal about them and possibly discuss with a friend or trusted counselor.
• What is your go-to comfort thing?
• What is a favorite childhood memory?
• What is your favorite Christmas cookie?