I was hit hard with emotion last night. Woke up three times in tears. None of the dreams really make much sense but I remember every one of them.
Dream: Returning the Hostages
There is a whole backstory to this dream that I will shorten. I didn’t dream it. I knew it in the dream. A group of colonists had encountered a group of Natives. The Natives took a woman and her daughter and the colonists were up in arms over it. Where I recall the dream is when the exchange occurred. The colonists were handing over two wolves in exchange for the woman and child. I remember the wolves most vividly. They were snarling and nasty and seemed almost like trained attack dogs the way they acted. I don’t remember seeing the woman and child. My focus was on the Natives for the most part.
What is odd is that I was able to take on the perspectives of both groups. I could feel the colonist’s outrage and how they thought the Natives inhuman savages. Similarly, I could feel the Natives and their upset over the colonist’s insistence that they return the woman and child. They believed they were helping the woman and child, not abducting them.
I don’t remember what triggered the tears (the wolves?) but I woke up sobbing. It was a heart-wrenching grief that seemed to have no source.
I was attending a funeral in Katy, Texas for a woman who had died. I remember following a road and hearing about her life and all the people who would miss her. There was an old man with me who was talking but I only recall him as a presence.
We arrived at the burial. It was under a huge tent and people crowded around. Part of the ceremony involved everyone sharing a memory of her. I heard them all and there were more than I could count. Hundreds maybe.
The lady who had died, I think her name was Geraldine, had asked that 100 balloons be released after she was buried. Everyone held a balloon and began to let them go one by one. I backed up and out from under the tent. I could feel a light rain on my shoulders but the sun was shining. I looked up in the sky watching as the balloons were released. They were all colors. Some in bunches and some singletons. It was the most spectacular site.
Then came the feeling. It is indescribable really but if I had to compare it to something it would be akin to the feeling one has after they have traveled a very a long, lonely and difficult journey and finally made it back home to the ones they love. It was pure jubilation mixed with an overwhelming sense of freedom and peace. And there was love coming from every single person there. The love from them all hit me full in the chest. It said, “Welcome home. You are loved.” I stood there, letting the love in, sobbing uncontrollably. I saw the balloons in the sky begin to morph into the forms of animals as I cried. They seemed to come to life and run across the sky. The last ones I saw looked to be from the ocean – sharks, fish, sting rays, etc.
When I woke I was crying uncontrollably. I couldn’t understand it. I asked my guidance, “What is happening to me?” It felt as if I was being called. It felt like I was holding on, not letting go. I was beside myself with upset. Why can’t I let go?
I was standing and facing the ocean. The beach and cloudless seemed to go forever in both directions. I wanted to run into the water but I didn’t. I just stared at it. I could feel people around me but I couldn’t see them. I asked to see them. An outline of a person appeared to my right. I could see right through him but I could also see him. When I saw him I hugged him. I heard, “You have to let go.” I began to feel emotional. It was like I was grieving but I don’t know what for. Then I felt the others around me. There were thousands all there on the beach with me. All of them completely see-through, as if they were one with the surroundings but I could also see the outline of each of their forms. It felt like they wanted me to go into the ocean. To let it take me. To drown. To surrender completely to it.
I began to cry again and it woke me up. The tears stopped and I was confused. I asked again, “What is going on?” I heard, “Identity.” Then I knew. I have to surrender it all. To let go of everything, even my own identity. How do I even do that?
After I awoke I lost a good portion of what I had dreamed. This is common-place for me now. I don’t know why but my dreams just don’t stick around like they use to. It’s okay, though. I am not needing to remember them really. Once I wake and shift back into this reality all that goes along with my dream experiences – the crying, grief, upset – disappears as if it was never there. What remains is a feeling that something profound is on the horizon for me and many others like me. This is intensely transformative stuff. The kind that leaves in its wake change and movement like never before.
I received the message, “Identity”, a few nights ago as well. I didn’t know what to think of it. At the time I thought it meant that I was taking on a new identity. Now I know it means I have to strip myself of my identity. But how do I do that? Without identity what is left? Nothingness?
I suppose it would be the same as when one dies. When we die we leave behind the person we were in life. We discard it completely. But then that is a normal part of the process right? But if we are not actually experiencing the loss of our physical body then would it even be possible to discard the identity connected to it? And then, say we were able to do that, what then?
As I write this I am reminded that a portion of a song came to mind this morning when I was wondering what was going on. It’s from the Ingrid Michaelson song Afterlife again but the only part I heard was, “To live a brand new start.” I suppose that we have to let go of the identity we created in order to start over, to live a new life. Why does that scare me so much? Ugh.