I got lucid a couple of months ago inside a dream in which I had been frantically, and unsuccessfully, trying to balance symbols of family life and the academic pathway I am currently pursuing. At the point at which I became conscious, I was swimming in a vast ocean, and with great effort, I began to walk on the water. Opening to the dream, I asked to be shown the most beautiful thing on earth. I was whisked over the ocean, to the house where I had been playing out the conflicts of work-life (im)balance, now in darkness. Peering through the glass door, I saw my partner and our two children fast asleep. This was the most beautiful thing on earth.
There are many ways that our dreams can offer layers of meaning and insight to peel back. My family, sleeping, content and peaceful, was the most beautiful thing and place on Earth for me. Not a massive external firework show. Warm and reassuringly simple.
I am reminded that sometimes in pursuing the spectacular moments in life, the acclaim and success, we can miss what is really there, right now. Achingly fleeting.
At the entrance to the East of the Wheel, holding together the juggling act of my life and fighting to maintain the space of this process, I think about what I must leave at the threshold. In the dream, I walked on water with great effort. And I peered at the most beautiful thing on earth, my own family, through glass doors.
These are the layers.
The core beliefs that I leave at the threshold.
The belief that life is hard. The belief that I am separate. That I do not, or can not, participate.
I held onto this dream for a long while. Bowled over by it I must admit!
But what if…..
What if…. I surrendered to the currents of the great ocean without trying to walk on water? (While acknowledging the effort of having done it!)
What if…. I opened the glass doors and laid down to rest in the restorative warmth of the most beautiful place on earth?