Tag: Meditation

Morning Meds; 6 12 19

I dreamt….

I saw this long rectangular sheet of what looked like slate standing on edge.

Something or someone started striking it.

Each blow broke a piece of it off.

It was struck around 5 or 6 times.

Finally, there was just a short, jagged piece left.

The strange part was that each time a piece broke off, I felt worse.

By the time the last piece was left, I felt awful.

I remember thinking to myself this is how I used to feel.

I am useless, lifeless, depressed, and hopeless.

I am a piece of shit.

(Sorry, that’s a very ugly picture and I now know it’s untrue)

I’m not sure what my purpose in this lifetime is exactly, but I do know that one of the things I need to do in this passage, is to overcome self-hate.

I’ve come a long way in the last few years.

I am very blessed.

It didn’t take too long, while meditating to get the meaning of the dream.

I had been asking for confirmation about some of the things I now experience often.

Are they real or what?

The feeling that it’s too good to be true.

How is this even possible?

It was like I was reminded of how awful I used to feel so I could compare it too now.

It was a call to gratitude.

Yes, it’s real, you are and always have been completely loved.

You are one with the creator of all.

Can’t get much better than that.

Sometimes we have to be reminded of the past to appreciate the now.

(Three years later, what is to good to be true, continues to be true.)

Morning Meds; 6 11 22

The silence in meditation is not the absence of sound, it is the presence of The Source of all Consciousness.

Morning Meds; 6 11 19

I wonder if the gift of faith is as easy as, “I choose to believe, I choose to receive.”

You don’t earn gifts, they are just given, maybe it’s part of the unconditional love package.

I think I’ll look into my core and see if it is in the fine print.

Oh, that’s right, there is no fine print with unconditional love.

Morning Meds; 6 10 22

If you are a dreamer, it is important to journal your dream.

For me, I believe that the line between our dream/spiritual world and our physical world is quite thin, it is only the width of a thought.

I have found that journaling allows us to cross reference dreams.

For instance.

The separation between the two states of dreaming and waking.

For a long time, I had rivers and streams of varying forms in my dreams.

I was always on the west side of each and was faced with the awareness that I needed to cross them.

In meditation I would imagine ways to accomplish that.

There came a time that I had dreams that I was on a bridge that didn’t cross the river instead it ran lengthwise with the river.

The land of everyday realities was on the south and my spiritual side was on the north.

I had a dream of driving home from work in my truck on such a bridge.

I have to cross the Missouri river to get home, so the river seemed familiar, but it had never been in its center.

Suddenly the bridge ended, and I plummeted over the end and did a nosedive into the river.

I kept saying in the dream, “brace for impact, brace for impact.”

The truck and I entered the water, and we sank.

I was suddenly surrounded by the silence of being under water.

I was still bracing, holding my breath and clutching the steering wheel.

In that silence I realized that there was no impact to brace for and still holding my breath, I swam to the surface as the current carried me downstream.

The day had changed into night, and I swam towards the northern shore.

There is more to the dream…

I have always been on the eastern or the northern side of the rivers ever sense that dream.

If I had not kept a journal, I wouldn’t have been aware of how the river was a repeating symbol in my dreams, for the dreams would have gotten lost in my daily shuffle.

Writing them down helps to lock them in.

I could go back through my journals and pinpoint the night I drove off the bridge.

Also, all the dreams with rivers contained a landscape that I could see across the river, I can now access those symbols through meditation.

They are in the journals.

I just take short notes, key figures and symbolism, landscape, direction.

I can’t type so I just scribble away.

I can go back to my scribbles and the dream will reawaken.

If you are a dreamer, find your way to journal your dreams.

They are gifts from beyond to help us navigate our lives.

Pleasant dreams.

Morning Meds. 6 10 19

The farther in we go, the more fantasy seems to be just a poor name for a reality we haven’t visited yet.

The universe continually expands within us.

Morning Meds; 6 9 22

Imagine yourself to be a particle of light and soon you’ll realize you’re not imagining, you are reminiscing.

Morning Meds. 6 9 19

I recalled lying on our trampoline with one of the grandkids looking at the stars.

Messing with him a bit, I told him that they weren’t really stars, that in fact, there was a huge blanket up there and God poked holes in it so he could look down to make sure we were all right.

It was God’s light that was shining through all the holes.

As we view our dimensional illusions of reality here, we are the holes that let the light shine through.

Each of us are portals of light.

We light this dimension with our eternal oneness.

The more light we let in the brighter our world becomes.

Project your life of light today.

Morning Meds; 6 9 20

Our judgments of people shape the people we see.

We cloth them in the costumes of our thoughts.

Our acts of judgments conceal the person beneath our judgments,

in the same way that our self judgements conceal our true self from ourselves.

Morning Meds. 6 8 20

I have been perplexed wondering how we can help each other, when everyone is responsible for their own experience of life.

We don’t know what they are creating to move themselves to where they need to be.

My morning picture while I was meditating.

I saw a giant box with a pegboard lid.

Inside the box was a flood light shining its radiance up through the pegboard openings.

Each hole was covered with a decorated shot glass.

Some were transparent, some translucent, some opaque.

All different in how much light was transferred through their outer coverings.

Every hole of the pegboard was connected, and all worked as one.

Like an aperture in a camera, each opened or closed in unison, allowing the light of Source to shine into the glass and out into the world.

We can only be where we are at.

We may not be able to immediately alter how much light is projected through our glass, but every time we open our core, to let more light in, we affect the openings in others.

The light is the same in all of us.

We are equal and one with the light.

How each of us let the light manifest and shine through, is up to us.

The best way to help others is to open our core as wide as possible to let the light transform us to transparency.

Morning Meds; 6 8 19

One of our grandsons spent the night, a very lively kindergarten graduate.

Sadly, he still enjoys sleeping with Cheryl and me.

I had all the fun that I could take and by 2 am I was headed for the couch.

I woke up late, nearly lame and was wondering how I had broken my neck in such a short amount of time.

Grandma and Rennick were still asleep.

I had time to regain some mobility, meditate and get into a better of frame mind by the time I heard him stir.

Very shortly after, he came busting into where I was still meditating.

I told him I wasn’t done and if he wanted, he could watch tv.

It didn’t work, he climbed into a chair behind me and said he’d be quiet.

I said, “Ok but let me finish.”

I finished without a peep out of him.

We spent the next hour talking about rocks, feathers, I Ching Tetragrams, the difference between meditating and praying, crystals, candles, incense, and sage.

I showed him my favorite rocks and why I liked them and where I found them.

I have one I found that looks like a claw, that’s why I picked it up, but if you set it on the floor and the light of the candle passes over it, it looks like the face on the mountain on Mars.

I was really excited when I first noticed it. A perfect face pattern created by the shadows.

He did inform me that some of my rocks and feathers were in the wrong place and corrected it for me and he really wanted to blow out the candle.

It ended up being a very delightful morning.

It made me think of how indigenous children would have learned in days past.

He was talking with Grandma about it while we were eating breakfast.

He said he was in papa’s peaceful room.

I felt honored that it made him feel that way.

They say that watching children will bring the youth out of you.

I spent Friday with Rennick, age six and Reagan, his sister, a busy twenty-month-old.

They are right, there wasn’t a bit of youth left in me by the time they went home, but I sure had been shown a lot of love.

* Reagan always calls a sleep over a sleep off. She is now a very busy four-year-old.