Because: Illustration

I let myself sleep in with a dream lover.

 

This morning I woke up with a thousand worries and nothing to actually do but dwell on them. Or, shall I say, I was meant to wake up thusly. And I did wake up, facts the same. However, on the edges of sleep and waking, just before when I was to open my eyes, I was dreaming. And the dream was not going pleasantly.

 

There was much disarray and fighting being done, the character who was me made some mistakes, and when I realized I had control I bade her apologize. Or rather I apologized, now taking up the role which I already lived there, giving care and love back, turning negative into learning and positivity. I’ve been doing that a lot lately in my waking state so it was easy to do in my dreams now.

 

I did apologize and received an armful in return. A naked and desirable and dominating armful, with a pretty sinful mouth and wicked fingers. And the dream followed that line of thought to it’s very satisfying conclusion.

 

Why am I telling you of such personal intimacy? Because: Illustration.

 

Because how we feel affect what we bring to ourselves, so says the Law of Attraction, to which I subscribe. I have been worried of late. Worry bordering on they way one wiggles a loose tooth with their tongue despite the twinge that brings. I’ve had two things on my mind. Money and love. Heavy subject for any one mind but for me I find usually love wins out as more pressing.

 

If you read my blog you might have found the last few posts dripping with ennui and pathetic pining; even I am tired of feeling heartbroken, but we write what we know. And I have known worry; since all the other good things in my life swiftly coalesced into awesomeness so straight went my attention the the lingering negatives. Number one being my recent ex; the heart ache more poignant due to her making contact a few weeks ago. And number two:  Money. Money has been a pressing issue, or rather the lack and lateness of it. I’ve been expecting several checks. My worry has been keeping me from them.

 

Abruptly I find all my attention focuses solely on this imaginary lover, this dream lover. It isn’t that she is perfect, she is not, it is that I crossed a bridge in that dream. In a dream where my worldly worries and learned fears remain far from mind, I felt no need to hold back. I gave her trust, which I hardly do when awake; trust is one of my issues. And I did wake feeling a little cured of that. The dream was enough that when I did wake I felt, it feels, as if I truly woke in a lovers arms. As if I truly spent the morning there. My brain literally stuttered when my mind wanted to worry the negatives while I sat the toilet after rising deliciously late from my bed. And the worries which had been hounding me seemed not so great. Their import lay far behind me. So too, in fact did the missing of my ex, and I spent the morning happy instead of worried. Completely happy. No effort to be that way, no forced and gritted teeth willing myself happy. Just natural happiness.

 

Immediately I get a call. The check has been delayed but here’s some money to tide you over til it arrives. For the holidays. Shall we drop it off for you?  What’s your address?

 

Talk about hand delivery. And instant manifestation. Instant gratification even!

 

Amazing. It is truly and simply amazing what can happen when you get out of your own way.  This is what can happen when light and love divine does get let in. I remember speaking to myself as I lingered on the edges of sleep. I was scolding myself, in a caring way. I told myself to accept the money coming my way. I hadn’t yet. I hadn’t believed it was mine. I had been awaiting belief until it was in my hands.  And then I did so deliberately; I let myself accept the money. And then I worried not. And then it came.

 

Ask. Accept. Believe. Allow. Receive.

 

… Or something to that effect.

 

Law of attraction in action. Deliberate creation.

 

Thank you Universe for your infinite kindness. Thank you for being there for me even when all my doubt is in play. Thank you for always always giving me what I want, whatever I want. Thank you for … being. Your existence is precious to me; I see us as one and the same. As I thank you I thank myself.  As I care for myself I care for you. As I bless you I bless myself. I am grateful.

 

I bless myself with light and love. I bless myself with pure source energy.

 

Why?

 

Because: Illustration

I spoke unkindly to you, last we spoke. I feel that I was too harsh and my conscience has been giving me grief over it. I must apologize. Please understand, I am on the verge of being who I want to be and balanced on the fence of who I was. I understand and see, and often feel both sides. I know how I feel when lost in the hurt of the past. I know how I feel when it is all forgiven. I prefer that place but … To feel your hurt over the past come creeping into your life and health .. I felt it in like kind. I love you. I don’t say it so you can be reminded, Laura. I say it because it expresses the very depth of what you mean to me. And it expresses it not. Because I feel so much more. I feel hope and light and harmony. I feel softness and love and comfort. I feel tears, they move beneath the subject and I can’t tell if they make me sad or glad, if they are an upwelling of good or grief. I just know, my life feels blurred without you. Like I am at the bottom of the sea seeing through it. And happiness clears up that view. And still the weight of emotions, now crystal clear, sit upon me oceans deep.

 

I have given up the hurt, Laura. Forgiveness you might call it. Now I just crave peace. But I don’t know where to look for it, when you are in my thoughts, and only there. I feel at peace with my actions. I don’t feel at peace without you. I cannot move on. Or rather, I have not. And what I have done, perhaps to my detriment, is keep alive a small kernel of hope which says, ‘You are the love of my life. There must be a way.’ 

It just is.

I’m leaving tomorrow.

I’m leaving and I feel not anticipation, or regret, or aching nostalgia, but relief. And, in adjunction to that, I feel her.

I met her here. I met her, fell in love with her, created her, here. Created us. She is my heart. She is the very light in me. She is the one who I love and would marry and would allow all of me. She is. I simply, don’t.

And I log on to the internet and I find oracles writing hope for me. Writing regret. As if they saw into my heart and took its words and put them before my eyes so I can see, “you are leaving.” “You are leaving the one place where she will always be, in memory. And when you go you will leave her here. And this time, it surely will be you leaving her.”

This new chapter is so good for me. I find the world open and white and lovely right now. The future seems so free. I feel so ready. So, unresisting. And there is this piece of me, which wants to tell her. Which wants to inform. Which wants to say, “tell me you love me?” “Tell me this matters. Tell me if I leave you will still try and find me.”

Perhaps all along it was not her rejecting me, leaving me, being unfaithful. Perhaps it was me. Me rejecting, leaving, pushing, disallowing, me of bad faith and windmill tilling and whining over melting ice cream I could have eaten and enjoyed while it was cold. Perhaps it was all me. Doing this to her, and in so doing, doing this to myself. As a spiritual person, who knows the definition of unconditional love, the feeling of inflicted pain, the awareness of what hurt can create, the awareness of what love can be; perhaps I know I can forgive. Yes, there was so much pain. Yes it appeared as her actions. Yes I bear scars.

Yes, if I allow it, she would ruin me.

But I allowed nothing less than that. I let her ruin me. I expected it. I was unresisting to it. For I wanted what I thought I deserved. And now, I miss her. I miss her. Like I would miss marrow, and indigo, and sunshine. Like I would miss my heart, were it to flee to a jar to escape me. Like I would miss these two years did they not exist. I miss her. And the things she did, they don’t matter anymore. They don’t, except when I dwell on the hurt and then they do. And I dwell not, and then I am at peace except for the missing.

Reed says its normal. It might take years to get over her. I feel no urgent need to seek a replacement. To seek a compliment. To seek even an amusement. I only feel a missing. And this growing urge to contact. This growing urge to tell her all I want. And blame her for not letting me have it.

In reality I do know it is all my fault. And it is all hers. And it is all mine. And I have been the one to bring this about with my wanting, even as she perpetrated the actions against me by proxy, because I could not break my own heart so thoroughly as that. And I must release this; this need to hurt myself, this feeling of unworthiness.

Last night I dreamed of her and I, asleep on her bed, in a white apartment. I was sleeping there most nights in the dream. I would watch her sleep. And the predominant feeling was, I was waiting in rejection. I lived in this dream in a feeling of nervous apology. My presence felt conditional upon her fond feelings. And I felt too hopeful, a love, a want, based on fear. Sandy foundation.

I woke up to find myself shocked. I knew, my dream (dream defined as: fantasy/longing)  had been us living together. I thought it long dead. I also knew how I felt when we were together; I thought that long purged as well. But it wasn’t, isn’t. She is still in my dreams, as a thing unattainable, and expected to reject me.

I realized this is how I live my life. Expecting this from everyone. And why? Because, I was unwanted once. I was unattainable. I was what someone wanted me to not be. I was myself. And they wanted a doll to play with, not a real toy.

I am strong  enough to know, this is not true in my conscious mind anymore, but subconsciously must still be. I must still need purge this. I must still tell that little me, it was okay, that they didn’t want me. It was natural, for they thought progeny to be extensions of them, not a person. Not a baby. Not alive. It is okay they didn’t know. It wasn’t bad. It just was. And the way I felt just was. And judgment isn’t necessary. Of them or of me. There need be no apology.

I miss her. But with that realization, the missing is less urgent. There need be no apology. Not apology or blame. It just was.

It just is.

love needs the light.

its like I loved,

in a dark place.

she was my heart,

before her I didn’t know

I had one. she grew there,

in my chest, like a feathered

thing, a beating drum,

and she showed it to me.

she showed me what a heart

is. she showed me

and I learned

and I surpassed her.

 

she left me,

in a dark place.

when she left I

perceived

she took the light

with her, and I was alone.

and I still had my heart,

which was her

and it ached

in the absence of her.

and it beat sluggishly,

inconsistently,

intermittently.

I could feel it in my chest,

hear it in my skin,

the flutter of it’s magnanimity,

made me worry.

 

I forgave her,

and I blamed her,

and I bade her,

return to me.

but only silently,

and she,

she never did,

until I had become

happy,

and she sad

and I was moved on.

 

and then she wrote,

me claimed love

for me, spoke

love for me,

achingly,

wantingly,

and I was angry,

and I was pain,

and I was scared,

and I refused her.

 

and I left her

in a dark place.

get out, I said,

yourself.

I did.

 

and when she’d gone

silent I remembered

how I loved,

how my heart,

beat as her,

personified as her,

and that I loved her.

 

and how it just wasn’t

enough, to love

in the dark. love

needs light

to grow.

Happiness Made Manifest

I want to be happy. I want to feel the flush of it against my cheeks. I want to see the light of it reflected in another’s eyes. I want it made manifest in the brilliance of the world around me, let the sunlight glitter upon my path forward, like lightening bugs, to hover then and show the way. Only the way is happiness, and I know that miles down that path I am as happy as I am today. I want to feel the happiness in the walls of my home, in the foodstuffs I eat, in the art I make. Let my hands wander over clay, upon wood, smooth over glass, and let them bring happiness into form there. Let the happiness meet my spouse, let it bask on her skin as reflective surface. I want to be this happy, everyday, let life create itself before me, reflective of myself, and this vibration I hold so naturally. I want to find the shadows terribly amusing, let the happiness ride so high it picks me up should I fall, into the depths of them. I want to find that nothing can cage me, not place nor person nor fear. I want to know this life is simple fun, and joy, and live that. I want to find the earthly pleasures, partake, and leave them unattached for I know I can always do so again. I am so thrilled by this vision, I know this is possible, I can and do create this. I am this. This is me. Happiness, at the very height of me. I am pleased to see it reflected in the words I allow to flow through me. I am so thrilled to feel this laid upon other people, by my very spirit. I am so glad to know I am all happiness, all freedom, all light, all glory and gorgeousness. I want my fears to seem highlights of happiness as opportunity. I want to know nothing in my life is ugly, for it is my eyes which choose to perceive it glorious beauty. I want beauty in my everyday. I want this life. Give me a home made of laughter and peace. Give me friends who reflect me and become me and move me. Give me love everlasting, romance of the ages, commitment devoted and deep. I want happy. Give me happy. I am happy. Let it be.