Between Land of the Living and Land of the Divine
I woke up, drifting in and out of sleep. Between land of the living and land of the divine.
I woke up at 8. It’s too early. I need more sleep. I drifted back.
I woke up at 9:25 when my first alarm went off. Hush! I hit snooze.
And in my comings and goings, lines of prose wrote themselves.
I woke up at 9:50. Knowing not to play games with myself. One more drift and I’d miss it.
I got out of bed minutes before meeting with my spiritual director on Zoom.
Bio break. Coffee made. Glasses found. Computer grabbed.
The lines left me but the deep feeling remained.
I mentioned it to him. Him, also a writer.
What is your subconscious trying to tell your conscious?
Dr. Ronald Wells
No, no. So sorry. My bad! Don’t you love when that happens?! When that one word ignites the memory of song? But I di-Jo.
Aaanywho, this was how my dreams are. If I don’t write them quickly, they escape like vapor. That was a line from this morning!: Like the fragrance of perfume, it fades.
And so, I’ve learned to write my dreams quickly so I don’t forget remember.
I’ll never forget my client. The one who asked me, “Do you know what the shortest, most powerful prayer is?” “No, what?”
Lord, help me remember.
And she does! Love reminds me what I forget.
That client’s story would have you in a tizzy. Baaaby! She was the ultimate storyteller. Made me feel what she felt. How she narrowly escaped being arrested when her drug habit put her in places she wasn’t meant to be. Correction!: where we are is where we’re supposed to be.
And when her legs froze and she couldn’t move to walk into the trap house or wherever it was she was going to get more drugs (or as my Montserration grandmother would say, jugs!)?? Frozen in place, she watched the very building where she was going get raided.
May we never forget.
Love, help me remember! (Oh, shit! I went to type Lord, but love slipped out my fingers like oil from a well! A conscious connection I’ve been making. My body remembers. My body knows!)
Powerful Dreams That Unlock Your Knowing
What was my subconscious trying to tell me today?!
The words came and flowed. I wrote and rewrote. I played with them in a way I don’t do in my awake state. And even in my dream state, I knew the writing was Good. I knew I wanted to remember.
But time.
Time is so swift and sure and fleeting.
Coming and going in ways I can’t even imagine.
It’s like a superhighway with cars whizzing by. And here I am trying to get on. Trying to fit in. Ease into the speed of traffic.
Sometimes it’s smooth like the pebbles made smooth at the river’s edge.
Other times it’s rough. Unforgettable like the boulders not yet changed by water’s power.
It was new, what happened to me, this morning.
Waking up with prose?!
Waking up with lines of poetry?!
It wasn’t lost on me.
Lord, help me remember.
Last night I wrote my first poem and this morning I woke up with prose?! Okay, I see you, love!
A Prayer Of Remembrance
Love, help us remember. Bring us back home to ourselves. To you, at the center. Bring us to where you’d have us be. To our hearts. To our knees. To our knowing. Hold Father and Divine Mother, show us, teach us, guide us. Speak to us in a way we hear. Let us listen. Let us love. Let us move.
And so it is. It is spoken. It is written. It’s already done.
