The sun shines brightly here, and there is a slight breeze rattling the dead leaves in the trees. Dreams early this morning are already beyond the reach of my memory, but in present time “reality,” I sense a change in my larger-picture dream.
When I make these trips back to Austin at least one time per year, I know I am searching for something to fill a void that exists in my life. Sometimes I can see past the void, particularly when I feel at peace, but much of the time I am not at peace. My mind is working overtime, discerning, judging, and being on alert for anything untoward. It is almost as though I need to find some sort of problem with everything around me, even though I am fully aware that if I perceive a problem, it is due to my own lack. All the problems that exist in the world at large, I will not solve them. Why do I even think this way? Looking at my own life and that of others, I realize we are each taking our individual journeys through time and space, and that none of these moments in this dimension is long-lived. We create our problems, in a way, so we might face the challenges we need in order to grow spiritually, which may in turn, help us detach more easily from this illusory world. Thus, we may never fear leaving it, inevitably, and returning to Source, the Void, God, whatever one might call it, in other words, dying, such as it is.
I am seeing there are a couple of ways to die. I know that when things get rough, I find myself musing on how to get on out of here. However, I know this is not the path to take. The next conditioned tendency I have is to fall into what I call “the hole.” My thoughts spiral me downward into what seems like a bottomless pit and sometimes I am able to catch myself and pull back up out of it. Sometimes I am not so successful and spiral down and down until I feel there is no way out. This is when I must find some words of wisdom, which will remind me of my choices, for I do know we all have choices. One choice is to stay in the abyss of fear, pain, and sorrow, and die spiritually little by little. This death is the true definition of death, that of dying in spirit. When this is happening, whatever happens in the physical is not relevant. The other choice is to live out of a center so deep, so intangible, mostly sensed intuitively, which is the true spark of Life in All That Is, which some label Faith, or Energy, or Creation, God/Goddess, from which none of us is separate. However, it is given that each one of us has a choice as to whether this is recognized and embraced. In my own reality, I manage to bog myself down rather consistently and forget that it is up to me to decide how I wish to live this life. I go through this hurricane of mad thoughts consistently, year-in, year-out, and lately am beginning to see that it is time to decide some things.
When I come visit my family each year, it always comes home to me that I so miss the interaction we have, the openhearted way we communicate. To live so alone, so isolated in my “off-grid” way is okay, for a while. Each year, as I grow older, with time blitzing by, the next twenty years will come and go and I will possibly miss the relationships that mean so much to me, not to mention possible new ones. It is lovely to live in a quiet, peaceful place on the planet. It is lovelier to feel connection with people one loves, to spend time together. It is not lovely to feel fear, pain, and sorrow at the thought of dying and never having lived with those I love.
Sitting in the foliage-filled back yard of my daughter’s home this morning, I heard birds twittering and looked up. Two small birds were just over my head, and I could see that they were looking at me. In the juniper tree in the corner of the yard, a morning dove sat on a limb in the shadowed center of the tree, its face pointed my way. It may have been observing me, as well. My faithful companion, my Brittany spaniel, was sprawled on the grass in the warm sun. I found myself thinking about the plan to return to my little home in the woods, tomorrow or the next day. For a fleeting moment, I considered calling my old neighbor, who is tending to my cats and other two dogs, and telling him I am staying, after all, and do not know when I will return. Images of raccoon, opossum, mice, rats and black snakes taking over my cabin flitted through my mind, and then I heard myself say, “I do not care who lives in my house. It will be there if I wish to return.” I sat in the chaise lounge for a few minutes, soaking up the early morning rays. I thought of people I might call to ask if they know of any jobs with an elderly person who needs assistance. I would require a small salary along with my room and board so that I might stay here, at least through winter.
I am not being able to recall my early morning dreams, but I am fully aware that my daydreams are in flux. I wish to live my life differently, and dream less about so doing. I wish to be past the patterns of life lived in isolation, without any significant exchange with people I love. The telephone is an okay way to stay in touch, but nothing feels so great as a real hug and a few hours spent in the company of someone so close, like that of my lovely daughter. Today is beautiful, and I am not cognizant of the old fears of change I know have been ever-present. My life is here and now, and it may be that I can change my dream and take a big leap into the unknown, called fearlessness lived in joy. This seems like a good Dream Change! So be it.