Gratitude & Losses (12.29.2016)

As I prepare to sleep each night, I walk around in each room in my 987 square ft apartment looking up at the tall ceilings, my hands sometimes joined in prayer.

Not that it takes longer, but I do. Every single night.

I don’t know why I do that. I don’t recall when I started to do that either.

I believe I want to thank someone for the good day that I had, to express my immense gratitude to the universe.

It’s not a learned act. Nothing even remotely close to anything religious.

I just feel so deeply about it.

My dreams are vivid and clear and real, as real as my waking life.

Most often they are filled with angst and overwhelming, debris I didn’t properly work through while I was awake.

Less often, my dreams are good dreams, especially on days when I have meditated deeply.

Sometimes I dream I can fly, but I can never properly control my power. I fly too low, or can’t fly at will, so the dream starts out feeling wonderful and then becomes a bit hairy.

At times I am running. Fast, hard, away from something or someone but I don’t know who or why.

Other times I laugh. It’s so funny that I can’t stop laughing and my laughter wakes me up. It’s pure splendor to wake up smiling.

In my most memorable dreams, I sense and touch love — A love that is much much bigger than myself.

I feel this incredibly expansive sensation in my chest, like where have you been all my life — this is everything —

I feel rinsed with sparkling rose water and I swear I can smell the nectar of heaven —

and when I wake up, I know she’s gone and impossible to retrieve.

The sense of loss makes me gasp, gasp before I’m fully awake, and it hurts so much.

It’s not until I get up and get in the shower that I realize that it was not a dream.

I will never find you again

and you were so very real for those few years we walked together and this pain sure is, but still….

Feeling that then was worth what I’m feeling now.