A Dream

Good morning! The sun is shining here in Belfast this morning and it blinds me as it shines double from the patch of saltwater I can see from my window....it looks like molten gold this morning. Lord, help me to appreciate the beauty you have so graciously placed around me for my enjoyment! Oh, how I need to relax and allow life to be what it is and what it is to be. Why is this the most difficult lesson for me? I swear I am like a bull at the gate....I see the matador with his red cape and I want to shred that cape, but they will not open the gate. How do you ever charge with the gate shut? Lol...now what would I do if the gate opened? I sound like such a brave and bold soul, but I am not. I laugh at myself at that thought. I am just me. I am shy and reserved and blush at the drop of a hat. I guess like everyone else, this is me at first and then you get to know me and I am comfortable and I open up and I am outright and honest and, yes, even fun....

Well, that is not at all what this blog is about today. I am just thinking aloud. But really, a dear friend requested I listen carefully to their words and I am and it is making me a better person by forcing me through this exercise of patience....thank you, Friend.

On to the dream. I had the nicest dream last night. I was with a bunch of people at some kind of retreat. This group came in and one of the guys took a bunk next to mine and he was bold and had red hair. He was sharing pictures of life and stories and poems in books, just a nice guy. I was intrigued by him and how easily he shared. We were all standing outside talking and he was suddenly next to me. For some reason, I touched him and he was immediately at my side, arms sliding around me and hugging me. It was so natural and felt really nice to have warm arms around me. The thing was he didn't let go, but just stood behind me, arms around me just chatting as though it were the most normal thing in the world. Not a word was said, just a tender gesture. The scene changed and he brought to me a phone with lots of pictures in it and a scrapbook with his life in it, set them on the table I was sitting at and walked away. I began to read and look and learn about this special man...you know what is strange? I could never quite read his name on the book or ask him what it was...there is meaning in that. He wrote poetry about his life and had snippets of notes and pictures that told me who he was. He caught my eye from across the room with a question in it, was I enjoying his information?, I nodded and winked, yes, I was. It was such a strange thing, this dream. He would come by and touch me or talk or hug me and I knew he was mine and I was his, and yet, we knew so little, but it was the most natural thing in the world, he and I. It was nice. I needed that.

Perhaps I never saw the name because this was a message that I don't need to know who he is or when he will arrive, and I don't have to work hard for it, that when it comes, it will be the most natural and easy thing in the world....it will just be....him and me. You know what? I can so live with that.

Then I found this poem about being alone this morning and it makes sense and it is okay to be alone. I don't always love it, but there is much to be done with it and in it. So, I embrace it and move into the molten gold of morning in Belfast.