Costumes

The last few nights I've fallen into the deepest of sleeps, almost zombie-like states of unconciousness. And my dreams have been filled with weirdness and light, blasts from the past(s) and strange angels and bizarre hotels. Yesterday (for the second or third night in a row) I ended up in this dormitory-slash-hotel-slash-restaurant-slash-mall. For part of the dream I was in this living room/apartment, visiting with relatives from the Buck side of the family (this room always looks the same, yellow walls and bland carpet) and I saw my cousin, L. She'd just adopted a baby, and right after that she found out she was pregnant. She and her husband K were worried about the financial part of it all, and afraid to tell my Aunt B, but L was also filled with light and love. L is such a maternal, graceful presence on this earth. Really. Just a gem. I'm sure this part of the dream was inspired by an email sent to me by M yesterday about another cousin's recent adoption. Then the dream changed, melted into something else....became the above mentioned hotel-y place....I was on vacation with (let's call him) "X", and we'd checked into our hotel and then gone walking along the boardwalk. I was scared to get to near the water because I saw all the sharks swimming down below (also inspired by a shark conversation I had with someone yesterday). Then time jumped a bit....I was walking through the halls of this place....stopping in at people's rooms, seeing new (old?) faces....The grounds of this place are dusky and filled with shadows and beautiful flowers and fresh, soft air....Now we get to the part that really sticks with me. I'm supposed to meet X at the restaurant inside the hotel--we have reservations--but when I get there, X is late, so I'm told I can sit down by myself. Everything was jumpin' at this place: candles glowed on all the tables, staff dressed up in masquerade outfits and laughed and entertained and played music and performed magic. They greeted me and asked me to join them, and I spent my time watching and appreciating. Then I'm at my table, and X shows up late with a stranger, and suddenly some of the magic is gone from the place, almost like X has uninvited it. The costumed, almost Midsummer Night's Dream vibe has dissipated, and--while the food is still yummy and the service great and everything totally acceptable, even elegant--there's just some spark/energy/potion that has picked up and moved on (but still close, hovering lovingly). I woke up deep in thought, and missing my masked entertainers, wondering what they're up to and looking forward to spending more time with them.

The New Year sure has kicked off with a bang. I recently used the term "soul-busy" in an email to my brothers, and I think that's pretty accurate. While I might've in the past seen the last couple weeks as "dramatic" I now see them as cathartic. Something being purged, gently. Monday at work I was on an outing with some participants, and one of my participants collapsed backwards into my arms and the arms of another client. I went into this Zen-like, Mr. Miyagi wax-on-wax-off state of being as I dealt with: 911; my client's shortness of breath and pale skin and unconsciousness; riding in the ambulance with him; making sure his needs and his son's needs were being met at the hospital. And all day Monday and Tuesday these little signs of the Universe kept presenting themselves to me like tiny gifts of Right Time, Right Place awesomeness. My client is okay -- more than okay, actually. And I'm okay too. I've written some letters to old friends, and asked myself what took me so long. I've hung out with Ollie and Luna and felt that kind of unconditional love that only pets can seem to offer. I've created fragments of poems in my head and heart that feel like arrows piercing through veils. I've written to my brothers, not thinking about what I was going to write, just pouring myself into my words. And last but certainly not least I've taken my muse securely by the hand and said, "I'm ready. I'm here. Let's go."