Lately, dreams are extremely prevalent during my sleep...and in many ways, they are similar to Graham's nightly visions as well.
We both dream of a man neither of us knows...one with a very strong energy signature. And both of us dream about houses in ever increasing numbers.
But last night, a night filled with dreams running into one another, the only dream I remember with great clarity is where I am receiving advice by the aforementioned man...a man familiar and yet not...
Guides show up in various guises, but when one shows up with regularity, I must assume he has been sent to show me the way on the Rocky road I am currently travelling.
He was in the company of my mother, both of them standing on a large promontory above me. Both were smiling gently, staring down at me. It was a sunny day and I was busily moving packages from one place to another. There were coloured papers, larger than confetti, yet with similar attributes, floating around me. I remember most of the papers were pink...the colour of Love.
It was difficult to move those boxes and packages. I have recently been diagnosed with a muscular disorder, in real life. I recall the pain I felt as I busily carried these boxes and packages down a sloping, stony path and I remember ignoring and defying the painful burning emanating from overworked muscular tissue.
Much as I do, during the hours I am awake. The doctor's diagnosis is only beginning to be processed; I am still in the stage of denial. Anger and bargaining will be next, in the road to acceptance of a condition for which there is no cure.
However, in my dream, along with the pain, I was filled with optimism, instead of feeling as if I was slogging through muddy, tangled and swampy Forests, with no end in easy sight. The path I was on was Rocky, to be sure, yet easily navigable.
I listened to the familiar man speak. Every time he appears, I seem to be busily trying to find order in an increasingly troubled atmosphere.
I remember much conversation between this man and my mother. They were discussing me and the boxes and packages. My mother seemed well and happy; much younger than her age when she died. She laughed at the pretty pink papers floating in the air, pointing at this one and that.
There didn't seem to be much purpose to this dream. But I understood, during the dream, that it was very important; I was to remember it. And yet, I had no idea why I thought so...
He spoke to me. He said...Don't forget to download.
I awoke. I wanted to continue the dream; I wanted an explanation. But it was not to be. I looked at the time...1:15 AM. I thought I would forget, by the time morning arrived, but the first thing that came to me upon awakening was the gentleman's last words of advice.
Don't forget to download.
A computer term. Had I forgotten to do some work I had intended to do on the computer? But no, this explanation seemed too easy.
This gentleman knows me well, even if I have only made his acqaintance recently. He knows I will try to battle my condition by myself, locking in the feelings of sadness and grief, only showing a positive face to the World, even as my insides are knotted and tight.
Perhaps, in his strange words, he was advising me not to hold it all in. Perhaps, there is optimism, as there was in my dream, ahead, after all. Perhaps, those pink papers I remember so well floating around me, shows the loving energy and support which surrounds me from friends and family.
For once, maybe I am not required to show strength at all times. Falling apart is not in my lexicon...yet, it may be far more healthy than taking years to find acceptance.
Downloading the steps and feelings of mourning may be far easier than capturing my emotions in boxes and packages, to be placed along that Rocky path, with denial that I ever put them there.
The dream is beginning to make sense, after all.