Conversations: Remember strength


Hello, God.  Can I call you God?

Why not?

If no one else dreamed but me, would it be considered hallucination?   What if there are people called schizophrenic who just dream all the time while they walk through their day?  What if someone is given psychotropic medication who just needs reassurance and not drugs?

Every era has its delusions.

The young woman I dreamed about last night continually walked through the shadow of death.  Hunted by a force unknown to me, she found ways to mask the thick strands of floating hairs in the air around her that sensed an undesirable presence.  She had a husband who loved her, worried over her and protected her.  And a child who grew from infancy through to the teenage years during the dream. 

That’s the gist of it.  What did you perceive about her?

Throughout all of it, she remained calm, alert and never let the threat of constant danger ruin her joy.  She remained aware of her plight and yet never let that steal a chance for fun with her family, and never allowed it to drain her of her undying love for them.  Through one narrow escape after another!  Once I awoke, the understanding hit me.  She wasn’t human, and yet the son who grew to adulthood at the end was entirely human, dressed in conventional human long-sleeved cotton shirt and twill pants.

What do you think it means?

It means I’m a wuss.

We’re not going to go there. What other details do you remember from the dream?

Just running from a home she’d lived in for a very long time that was about to be compromised, traveling to another place, staying there for a few months or years, and moving on.  During every move, every run for her life, she focused on the only “possessions” that were truly hers, her husband and her son.  Wherever they were, that was home.

Why do you think their child was human in the end?

Hell if I know.  There seemed to be no reason why these beings, a great deal shorter, would produce some kid who looked like he could’ve been a dentist or an accountant.  Sure, these are among the myriad of professions that are essential, and yet nothing that would draw anyone’s attention… like a nuclear physicist or a clown.

Are you starting to get your sense of humor back?

It’s the one part of me I missed the most.

You’re still trying to heal, and your mind is doing a great job of coming back from near death.

I wasn’t that sick, just a wee bit of a thyroid problem.

And through it all, you continued to write a blog.

I refuse to give up the one activity in my life that connects me with like minds.

Always on the precipice and yet you manage to find joy in your life. 

I’m not that strong.  Could you answer a question for me?  Is each person just a speck of dust in a universal desert? 

Why do all of you vacillate between feeling superior to all other creatures in the universe and believing you are simply an inconsequential speck?  Don’t you understand that each speck contains within it the whole of the universe?

We’re a bit of a whacked-out species.  We haven’t gotten it together yet.

One day you will.

A million years after I’m dead.

The universe remembers.