Dream: Leave Death Behind
Last month, on May 12th, I had this dream:
My grandfather had just died, and I (present age) was distraught. I was sitting on the ground in the backyard of my childhood home surrounded by a vast kingdom of dead, brown leaves. Inconsolable, I sat alone and cried and felt only death and a great emptiness.
After quite a period of time had passed, I heard Ken’s voice very quietly ask me, “When are you going to stop luxuriating in death?” It wasn’t a rebuke, but rather a gentle invitation.
Through blurry eyes I looked up and saw that he was leaning out the paneless kitchen window above me, and looking at me with compassionate, patient eyes.
Standing up, I stepped toward him and our arms interlocked. As he began to speak, we leaned in close to each other, our faces only a few inches apart. My eyes looked up into his. Please help me.
“You need to look at this, but you have to be very honest with yourself.”
I said I was willing to look, and to be honest.
“You have to mean it,” he said. “Just saying the words means nothing.”
I nodded, paused, and said to him that I realized I was selfish and didn’t want to live this way anymore.
He looked deeply into my eyes, and I into his.
There was movement behind him in the kitchen. I looked over his shoulder and was startled to see myself walking into the house to be with him. A perfectly peaceful-looking version of myself. I could see this self had no fear, no malice, no attack thoughts. None.
I looked back to Ken questioningly.
He was still looking me in the eyes. “You did good. That time you meant it.”
