Jul 30, 2011

owl pellets

(click to enlarge)

my dear friend,
i am sorry i did not do a thorough serious job interpreting your dream, but sometimes it takes me awhile.
i'm the same with movies -- a day or so after seeing a movie, i'll suddenly say "oh NOW i get it!"
you were running through a field of lavender!  so wonderful! but i never asked you what lavender is to you. don't people use it to scent their linen closet? their bedsheets? or is it the scent that helps people sleep? i would like to know. 
in any case, you were moving energetically through a lovely free open bright unencumbered world!
and you tripped and fell.
well we all understand this on some level!  this is life. this is impermanence, yes, thank you Buddha, we get it.
notice, though, it was not a rainstorm, or a monster, or a thank you Freud snake, nor your parents appearing from behind a tree, that ended the bliss.  you did it yourself.
isn't this so very feminine....blame ourselves! i would advise you (and all of us) to watch for this. not to shake a finger and say bad girl, but to pat yourself indulgently, fondly, and say "silly there you go again."
you must tell me sometime, did you trip on a stone, or your own shoelace, or even worse did your own feet get tangled?  you see, it makes a difference in understanding.
the good news is, you were still in that lovely scented paradise.  you were down but not out. ready to lie there and enjoy or get up and run further.  and frankly, i don't believe it was a fall by your own clumsiness.  i think really, something over which you had no control, something that is actually someone else's problem, perhaps someone's thoughtlessly abandoned shoe lying hidden in the lavender, is what you tripped on.
i will have to give it some more thought. 

1 comment:

  1. Oh my, this is wild. thank you! it was actually my own feet that I tripped over. I think. I don't remember an abandoned shoe. but! I did actually--for real, no joke--trip on an abandoned shoe yesterday. it was outside my back door. (It belonged to X.) I asked him, politely, to not leave his shoes directly in front of the door as I risk twisting my ankle. he agreed. so perhaps this is the beginning of lying--instead of falling--down in a field to smell the lavender. (to me a field of lavender might be what heaven might look like--perfectly beautiful. (like you)

    thanks again. sending love,