The Dream is Still Alive…
Funny how I started this post without actually having any idea what it’s title might become, and at the moment with the still throbbing ache on the tip of my finger the title seems even less important, because I know I am on the trail of the solution to what p.a.i.n.s.(pay attention I need something) me at the present moment. Now that I have cleared the more pressing answers my body had been trying to get my attention about. Kind of like what I have noticed about many things in my life. The loudest, most annoying, the tastiest, slowest, fastest, whatever is in our main line of focus, usually gets our fullest attention.
Especially for me, since I feel and know that is how I best get and receive my guidance from Source through the sensations I notice and do something about. Or ignore until the object becomes too loud or sore to be left unattended, like I have done with both of my two index fingers in the last few weeks. As the one on the right hand at the knuckle only aches occasionally when I get mad at someone else for their causing me to be aware of my neglecting of me when I put them and their opinion first.
Though the left one I have tended in that hmmm, must have a thorn, sticker or splinter in it… it will fester and eventually come out on its own. Except for yesterday when I finally realized the solution to my what felt like a daily pen cleaning ordeal (this morning he cleaned them flawlessly without reading my blog or me saying anything). So I then sat down with tweezers, a needle, a pair of tiny surgical scissors and good light to pull off the hardened calloused spot, and hopefully easily extract whatever laid embedded there.
To find nothing as I probed, squeezed and prodded, except for the story that has been rambling in my head that seems so… just there out of reach. A place I visit occasionally, enjoy for a few moments, play with it, then put it away for more important things. Discovering this morning my finger has had enough of my nonsense and excuses as it annoyingly pointed at me “you’ve dealt with the anger, figured out about other people’s opinions, the need for a fresh start, and all these other roadblocks to your living life for those you know… Now go, write, find your truth, and find this answer that keeps playing with you in your dreams. Leaves whispers in the silence, shows up on emails, opened pages, license plates, and passing signs. Go write, explore, live like you imagine, search the piles of no’s, not acceptable, doesn’t fit, and everybody elses ideas. It really is okay!”
So I came in, sat down, opened emails, laughed and shared on Facebook till I felt a little more relaxed, less pushed, and prodded still unsure what might come out…
It’s been years (no ache from finger) this story so safely tucked away, which I only am allowed to play with in dreams and occasional meditations that I am usually guiltly startled out of. The trail would get warm and inviting as I ventured out upon it, then would speak of my desire for this dream out loud, not aware of the invitation to share was not denied, more just rewound for me to figure out my life long habits of others first. Until I changed and learned it really is okay to be the me that I almost lost, as I seemed to always be running so hard and fast trying to fit who I was supposed to be to others.
My dream had to hide, bury itself deep enough to keep the flame of remembering loving myself and that one amazing year experienced without anyone from my past to walk in with their rendition of who I had been and would always be…according to them. The safety of being completely new with no labels, no expectations, no siblings, family, or acquaintances opinions to be compared to, as I created the me I had fantasized and dreamed about growing up in the big city of San Antonio. Miles away from the country life, horses, cattle and cowboys that so cause my heart to race.
My soul began to fly, my wings to spread as that life sprouted and came to life in and around me. No denying having fun, experiencing anything and everything hundreds of miles from home, up in the big country of Alpine, Texas. I came out of the cage of others expectations as I explored all the nooks and crannies of living out on the land amongst cattlemen, ranchers, and fellow students away from home for the first time learning to experience and find themselves.
Of meeting this one guy, becoming friends, supporters, compadres, card players, and cronies in the crimes of shenanigans that come with freedom from rules and watching eyes. Being introduced to his folks, sharing meals, late nights at the hotel desk with others studying, swapping tales, just being whoever we desired, as we easily parlayed a lot of our shared secret dreams into reality.
Brought to a close, when my parents picked me up at the end of the spring semester and he came up to help load the truck. Clean cut, shaved, nice shirt, jeans, boots, and his brown cowboy hat with the over-sized turkey feather reaching over to introduce himself, before he hefted my book loaded down foot locker into the back of dad’s truck. That look on my parents faces, I was doomed, I had done the worst thing possible… chosen without checking the rules and guidelines laid out for the girls in our family.
My finger’s not aching. The tension in my shoulders that I hadn’t noticed when I started, just went slack, soft. As I realize I’ve been pointing at my own heart, so locked away from losing this piece of the puzzle. The dream inside so many of us which one may not realize may be behind the symptoms in their bodies that mysteriously keep them in pain, sick, hurting or waiting… for them to notice their very own bodies are trying to connect with them to fully be alive, by validating and becoming whatever truly makes their heart sings.