The first was a sleeping dream... not horrific at all, just me in Canada i dreamt, just across a border, with a group of people i was comfortable with, but didn't need to hold space, could just be.
I then found—walking up from the lower restaurant level two steps to the mini-mezzanine—that i'd lost my laptop. i knew that i had also lost computer-bits that i would miss, pictures, writings... a lot was backed up, but... i noticed chagrin, hints of regret, a small mourning—and all that along the path of accepting—like flowers arrayed thoughtfully in a well-tended, stately garden.
Accepting is both all and nothing, it's everything and the details too. It mattered that i grieved (small 'g') for words lost and ideas dissipated. Whatever, i accepted, managed to wake myself up to a 5am flotation upon the tail-end of fast sleep, and i was relieved to find i hadn't lost any of the items from my dream. I remembered then to give thanks, and i did, that i was okay waking up, and i was reminded to mourn those would awaken first and find the morning far worse than any dream they had just endured.
Laying there, i heard a noise, or it was the noise that drew me out of sleep, and my mind first flashed to intruder, potential threat... but it stayed sub-critical; the follow-up sounds did not signify greater threat, and i wasn't completely flooded with adrenaline, just kicked into that suspended state where mind is free while body lays still.
I wanted to be prepared in case, or to exorcise some demon or buy some insurance. i saw my daughter being directly threatened, i saw myself intervening with a large knife and wounding the perp and preventing the harm, and then i dragged him outside and with the knife, made sure he would never bother anyone ever again.
I thought of myself in the courtroom after, or talking to police or attorneys, asking them simply, would they give their kid antibiotics and kill invaders or let their kid die. That's all i did, i said. This person coming into my world was the same as if he'd run onto a busy freeway at midnight and got obliterated by a truck.
I noticed not feeling any remorse, i felt there was less ill in the world b/c of my actions. i know my daughter's life was going to be better.
That got me thinking about maya and illusion, how i know we are all thoughts of God, all spirits of the same Source, all Children of All Love, but being embodied, it's amazing to witness the pulls and desires and explanations for actions and counter-actions. It's amazing to watch the body-mind's need to protect its own. It got me thinking about self-defense.
It felt important to look at these dream states, the stories inside them. It's good to know what to fear, if there's anything left to fear at all. I was fighting some viscous entitlement in the ethers. I'm much more interested in transparent rather than proper early morning darkness.
Any day i make it to a relatively safe bed, doors locked, i feel great relief—relief not so much that i survived, though that's dramatically part of it, but relief that i was paying attention that day, relief that i said thanks many times (and meant it always). I was heartfelt grateful for the day's experiences, relieved that no afflictions had come our way, grateful for a chance to have another go at this whole living thing.
Words from Bruce Lee: "If you love life, don't waste time, for time is what life is made up of."
The day started tough, so i've lain low. Early afternoon and i'm still here, tucked in this corner watching, putting down word after word.
Be well, for real, m