I've always remembered my dreams, but I never paid much attention until God audibly spoke to me.
"Dreams are the language of God."
The week before I started this series, I was anxious - about what I'd share, how I'd say it, and whether or not I'd actually find the space to get 31 posts written. This month I quit a job because of my sensitivities, hopped a flight to Texas unexpectedly because my grandma passed away, was offered and accepted another job the day before my grandma's funeral, all while writing, fighting sickness, and working through another round of group sessions.
I have a lot on my mind. I've been meditating to keep myself centered, and I even tried tapping one morning before drifting back to sleep.
The sun is shining across my bed. My eyes won't open, it's as if my eyelids are glued shut. I strain, raising my eyebrows and stretching my mouth wide. I can't break my lids apart. I'm anxious about being unable to see. I hear the front door open and I sense a stranger entering the apartment. My perception shifts and I'm now watching myself as if in a scene from a movie. I'm frantic as I watch my body stiffen, clearly thinking if I'm still I won't be seen. A small, Asian woman wanders into my bedroom and is quick in her movements, but soft. She wants to help me and I am desperate. She stands by my bedside and begins touching my hand, then my face, then my lips, then my head. I recognize she is performing EFT. My body relaxes. In the dream, my eyes suddenly open. I am alone in bed, Mat is in the other room telling me to get up and get dressed because we have people coming over. Under the covers, I'm naked. I sit up and blink my eyes wildly. There is no glue, there is no woman. Maybe this isn't a dream anymore. I move to the closet to choose what to wear, and I hear our guests arrive. Our bedroom has no door and one of Mat's friends walks in on me naked. His lip curls in disgust, as if I paraded myself in front of everyone. I roll my body into a ball to hide my nakedness and cower in the closet. My mouth is full of sand. I cough. I'm not choking, but it begins to pour out in a continual flow, breaking my teeth in the process.
I've changed my mind about dreams.
I used to think my dreams were weird. But now I love that I remember them, and I believe they are messages for me - prophetic in nature, signs - because I am open to them. I have been in a constant state of vulnerability this month. I have felt like I am naked, exposing myself as I share things I've changed my mind about. I have worried about the consequences of the words I choose, almost choking on them as I type. But writing about how I've changed my mind has changed me. As I engage in methods to maintain positive energy, my eyes open. I'm wide awake. There is wisdom in the practice. Understanding my dreams, I recognize God continues to speak to me - encouraging me as I change my mind.
“By exposing the hidden dream-thoughts, we have confirmed in general that the dream does continue the motivation and interests of waking life, for dream-thoughts are engaged only with what seems to be important and of great interest to us.”
Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams