...I was at my old house. There was group of people, some family, others who were unfamiliar to me. We were in the space that I knew as the dining room, only it was much larger in the dream...and empty, except for the people. I noticed the slope of the floor (the actual room where I had my creative space wasn't perfectly level because of settling). In a few moments the house was tipping, gradually dumping us all out (unharmed) in back, crumbling before our eyes. There was no earthquake or other cataclysm...it just...crumbled. No one was particularly upset or afraid. I looked around the neighborhood and in a semi lucid dreaming state, anticipated and maybe provoked the surrounding few blocks to also reduce to rubble. The next thing I recall is the coming together of nearby folks, figuring out how to move forward from this event. Again, everyone was calm, just a bit surprised and then responsive.
I haven't been able to remember my dreams in any detail, for some time. I've been too caught up in emotions, affected by insomnia and generally overly tired to even try recall. But last night, I was very worn out after aikido practice and slept fairly well (everything is relative!). When I woke from this night time foray into my psyche, I wasn't upset (just like in the dream) but calm...and perhaps a bit amused. It was perfectly clear to me what was going on. It was a psychic house cleaning...a breaking down to build anew...a letting go of that old life.
Does this get old? Reading musings on my old life? If so, please excuse because apparently it takes me a long time to institute a lasting change within! Two steps forward, one step back, yada yada. I liked that everyone was okay in the dream...that there was a calm acceptance to move ahead...without me.
The greatest challenge, the core of my discomfort, comes from the separation I feel from my family...especially my kids. But is that real? We are still connected...we will not forget each other...I will not ever have my energetic connection to them severed. My old life is part of me, so how can I really be separate from it? Sure, the spontaneous hike or brunch isn't possible, but maybe there are greater things to come from all of this. Who knows? Life is built of moments and the moments I have experienced are pretty darn beautiful (well, sure, some suck donkey balls, but still...). The beauty of the past is embedded in my core, I can let go of the grasping relationship to it now...allowing for the potential of something new and great (or new and small and genuine) to emerge.
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