Last night again, all I can remember was being in a room full of people dressed in evening wear and having a wonderful time.
This feels like it may be a portend of something coming and the fact that it is so repetitive is that I don’t – there is a sense that I don’t believe it. Goodness it’s been such a long time since I’ve been in a group where everyone in “dressed to the nine’s” as it were. This is one that is part of the faith in picking up one foot and putting it down in front of the other and believing that as long as I stay open and receptive to the direction God leads that it’ll be where I’m best able to “be”. That’s along the line of Maryanne Williamson and the Bible and so many other wonderful writers – - let your light so shine…
Other thoughts: I know one of the beliefs with respect to dreams is that the dreams having elements from the day in them (the movie I watched or the event that happened) are just a regurgitation or processing of the days event and have little significance; additionally the “nightmares” or “scary dreams” are our fears showing up – coming from the fears inside of us. What if they were coming from our Higher Self, our Spiritual being, our Soul? As for myself I have found that there is no such thing as a nightmare. The “bad” dreams that I used to have as a kid were lessons that my spirit was trying to help me understand.
For example, I used to have this reoccurring dream that the walls were covered with hundreds of faces that were all talking in voices that were soft, gentle, essentially easy on the ear. In short order, the faces began to move around the room – much like a carousel. At the same time they began to distort and grow louder. Eventually they would be of tremendous size, speaking in tones that were unbearable and hideous to look upon. At that point I would wake up. I had this same dream for years and each time I would have it I would have to do something to redirect my thoughts in order to fall asleep. Most of the time I would get a book and read until I fell asleep with the lights on which didn’t make my mom to happy while I was still at home. One day, during a process with a friend Royce, I saw the source of the dream in the decisions made at the funeral parlor when my father passed away right after my fourth birthday. The distortions were related to the fact that he had passed away from a brain hemorrhage and had been made up with a wax makeup and didn’t look like himself at all.
Once I had the skills to access the dreams, things began to change drastically. Once I decided there were no “nightmares” —- there haven’t been. It all goes back to choices and decisions as I discuss in the Freedom blog.
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