A few nights ago I dreamed that I was sitting on the lap of an extremely tall and thin black man who was sitting in an over-sized wooden rocking chair of unfinished oak. He wore a sky blue shirt with small black buttons, and allowed me to rest my weary head on his shoulder, and may have put one of his arms around my shoulders as we slowly rocked…
Later I was in a pine-paneled cabin full of bookshelves and folk art objects and many useful items that were almost inspirational in their pleasing simplicity, textures, and colors. The phone rang, I answered, and it was my comforter on the other end of the line.
“You need to come home now, “he said. “I want you to meet a man named (X) who knows that he can be your healer.” His name was three words as many post-vision quest First American names are, although I’m unsure enough of his name to write it out, or maybe even…want to.
But it was, of course, a not-too-subtle hint that I need to take a bit of time to restore myself, and one can only assume ‘psycho-spiritually’ was what Morpheus meant.
I will do some sessions with a couple online meditation that I like well, perhaps draw a bit, and sing (O, my pipes are rusty!), garden, and try to get away from…words.
…and imagine rain and waterfalls, take a few birrrd photos and such.
Consider this an open thread for anything y’all want to bring, and I’ll be back in a couple of days or so.
best heart to you all,