To read an excerpt from the book, please click on the following link:

ashaveilbook.blogspot.com


Friday, February 28, 2014

Love is a temple, love the higher law



I wake from nightmare:  a person I dearly loved and still love has been captured by a horrible woman, much older than him, who is planning to destroy him.  I hear him say how much he loves her, how perfect she is, and in tandem hear her mocking him in every way and saying she's going to chop off his hair and beard in the night while he sleeps, and there's nothing he can do about it, and that there is nothing like ambushing someone while they sleep.  Then, she said, she planned to take all of his money and the title to his house.  I cannot warn him--I try to scream across a massive gravel field to him, but he can't hear me...and besides, he turns a glowering, cruel look at me which I can discern from across the field--he thinks I am trying to take away his perfect life (this is the sense I have and I cannot bear knowing what I know, the danger that lurks like a rattler behind him).  I am the messenger with a message that will not be heard.  I have only a handful of dreams in my life that I have woken from in tears.  This was one; my pillow and face were wet.

I feel I have to put some emotion, some sort of caring, into the stratosphere right now.  I've been having such weird dreams since my dream of the serpent rainbow in Haiti, and some aspect of each one seems to come true in waking life.  I hope that dream never, ever comes true...no matter how angry I get with people, I never want bad things to happen to them--and certainly not something as horrible as a person who cuts off someone's hair against their will!!!  Hair is a very personal expression of individuality and it was, in the dream, like hearing someone plan an assault--well, I guess in real life it would be an assault.  I pray that nobody ever comes across a person like that in real life--she had a facade of motherliness, of someone who really had it together, but underneath--dear God.  That was probably a symbol for my mother, as she always wanted me to cut off my long hippie-girl hair, which was a beautiful mane of glossy red-chestnut.  However, I do not have a beard, despite my Italian background.

Time for some positive music and sending of good and vibrant love into the atmosphere.  May all of us be safe.