Had some upsetting dreams this morning.
I woke around 6am and went back to sleep asking to go OOB or to have a K dream or anything substantial because it has been so long since I’ve had any experiences that motivated or inspired me. I ended up having a teary dream instead.
The part of the dream I recall the most is being at this house I didn’t recognize. I was outside standing in the yard noticing my surroundings. There was a narrow sidewalk (step outside your comfort zone and accept change) with flowers and flowering shrubs on both sides. The flowers were growing very well, so much so that they would hit a person’s legs as they walked on the sidewalk.
My husband was with our neighbor outside talking. It appeared they were adding a stone landing in front of the back porch. I called out to him to tell him about the overgrown sidewalk but he seemed to not hear me. I walked up and saw the stones placed equal distance apart. I stood on the porch (viewpoint from outside of some situation) looking down at them and said, “This looks good. Great job!” Again, he seemed not to hear but by this time it felt like he was just ignoring me because of his conversation with the neighbor.
I decided I would have to clear the path on my own and turned back toward it. When I looked, though, someone had already cleared it. I thought, “Of course.” I was irritated that someone had already done it. Not sure why. Perhaps I was feeling as if the purpose I thought I had – of clearing the pathway – was never my purpose to begin with? Or maybe it was from feeling I was wrong?
I walked down the sidewalk inspecting the work done. It was neat and well done. On one side, the right side, were chairs set up facing the sidewalk, as if an audience frequented the space. The seats reminded me of movie theater seats (viewing path from perspective of observer). One sole flower was still close to the sidewalk. I pushed it toward the chair and it easily slid in place, roots and all. The flower was white and reminded me of a lily (relief from worries of life).
I turned to the other side, the left side, where there had been a field of flowering plants, all white lilies, but they had vanished. Instead there was a room without a roof and I found myself at the front of a house looking at a ceiling height wardrobe. At first I opened the door and saw clothing but shut it. I recall thinking I wanted to see something else. Then I slid the same door open and the clothes were gone. In their place were CDs (change, transition, possibility), hundreds of them all in slots and organized.
I recognized the CDs to be the music collection of my ex-husband. He loved country music. Something about seeing all the CDs upset me. I saw two large sections of CDs and recognized one to be his CDs and the other to be mine from when we were married. I recalled that I also had country music in my collection. All the songs and artists I had in my collection came to mind vividly to the point I had recollections of singing to them while driving along the country roads in Montana.
Upset and feeling very down and depressed about life, specifically thinking that my lifetime has been for nothing, I picked up the first collection of CDs, my ex’s. It was large and heavy, about a three by three feet cube filled with CDs. I placed them on top of me like a blanket (seeking security, protection) and pulled my own box of CDs on top of me as well. I curled up in the fetal position and lay there with the CDs on top of me. They did not feel heavy at all. I wept slow, sad tears and perceived myself both as the person crying and from the perspective of an observer above, watching myself crying while surrounded by lilies.
Some of what I was feeling was related to feeling ignored by my husband. He ignored me, preferring to talk to the neighbor. My husband loves to talk to others and is most happy when he is in conversations with others. He loves meeting new people and getting to know about them. He will talk to the neighbors and strangers and anyone when he is in the mood to talk. The dream brought up my consideration about this trait of his. His talking often feels hollow. It is as if he does it out of habit or maybe as a coping mechanism. Sometimes having to listen hurts me, like eats at my own energy in an almost painful way. I feel this with others who talk as if out of habit, too. Their words have no substance behind them. I sometimes feel like their talking is to fill up the space of the moment so that the speaker can pass the time without really feeling the moment. I think, “Do they ever shut up? Can they just be quiet and sit comfortably in the silence?”
I recalled my heart connection was this way, too. He talked and talked as if trying to fill up the space between us in order to avoid something. The love? The connection? Who knows. I remember wishing he would just be quiet for a moment, to just stop and feel.
Some of what I was feeling was related to the past, also, to all the things I did to try to connect to my ex. The music was just one example of how I changed myself to try to connect to him. I hated country music when I met him but since he liked it, I began to like it, too, to the point that I began to adopt it into my own music collection. When we parted ways, I brought my music with me but rarely listened to it after. Why? Because in reality that music was not my preference. It wasn’t truly me.
The feeling here about that time was it was a “lifetime” wasted. The feeling about my current “lifetime” was the same: wasted.
My tears woke me up and I lay there feeling sad for a while.
I remember a song was in my head as I woke. “Cause all of me, loves all of you…….You’re my end and my beginning….” I’m not sure why it was in my head but it continued to play despite my thoughts and discussion with my guidance, as if a reminder of something.
Memories of other dreams were present but in bits and pieces. I recall seeing visuals indicating delay and postponement. The feeling was/is that no movement is to be made for a while – it felt like years and years.
My first thought to my guide was, “We were discussing that weren’t we?” “That” here is referring to me considering exiting life and why. My guidance nodded confirmation and reminded me of how far I had come but the feeling that it has been for nothing was strong. In fact, the feeling dominated. I saw this life and all my lifetimes to be like those empty words that hurt to hear. That all my time has been to fill up the space of existence but has been without substance. Hollow.
I remember thinking that if I had to do this life all over again I would omit ALL the spiritual experiences. My guidance was intrigued by this. Why? Because those experiences are why I feel so disconnected from the physical, from the world, from the sleeping populace.
I began to begrudge our “creators”, that alien species who created humans and then abandoned us abruptly. They left us (humans) after centuries of playing our “Gods”. They taught us nothing of our true nature. They allowed us to worship them, to look to them for all the answers. Then, when they left, we didn’t know what to do. So in desperation we created our own Gods and those who saw the opportunity took power from the rest of the population who so desperately longed to be “guided” by their creators. But with those creators gone, the only guidance they had came from within but they did not know how to follow that guidance, choosing instead to follow other humans who claimed to have been chosen to lead them. But in reality, those “leaders” knew no more than anyone else.
My disappointment in humanity was – IS – strong. It feels so hopeless. I remember talking to my guidance about how we humans are “children”. Our “parents” (creators) left us to fend for ourselves. The reality is that no matter how much they taught us, we would not truly know until we were on our own, left to fall and pick ourselves back up over and over again. They watch from afar, waiting to see if/when we will finally “grow up”.
It seems the core of my sadness and desire to depart this reality is based upon how truly impossible the task of waking up humanity feels to be. I wish our creators would come back and give humans a good ass whooping.