Dreams are randomized, still inexplicable as to any pattern or clear purpose. However and regardless, they gift you with the opportunity to reflect upon any meaning or message of its contents.
Some dreams, I laugh at, with my husband and I always sharing quite absurd recollections. Some, however, like I had most recently, had me wondering what reflective thoughts, if any, were there for me to genuinely delve into for the growth and development of my own heart, mind, body, and spirit.
My most recent dream had me offensively awaken to where I brought myself immediately back down to peace with a prayer.
From the time my oldest son laughingly and joyfully drove in with about four others in a car, although I could only see his face directly throughout the dream, somehow I understood that my children and grandchildren were all together once inside.
There were about four long tables amidst what appeared to be a dining area, the floor of polished white (the kind of my husband’s great liking), to which all were boisterously finding themselves a seat.
While my grandchildren were happily running around, me giving the oldest kisses and a new doll I had been awaiting to give her, as food was being prepared and served, I saw my oldest child’s eyes affixed a woman who he must have known invited herself.
My husband, my greatest friend along with my children, was not seated at any of the tables. He was seated on a pearl white-colored, leather couch, resembling the very first big purchase we bought back at the time he had just become a software engineer during the time we resided in a rental home.
Managing to plaster a smile on his face, he was defensively seated, trying not to look uneasy, guarded, with his eyes looking ahead, while glancing peripherally without being obvious to those in the room.
I recalled just having privately spoken with him, checking to see if he was okay. This most often serves as a cue to one another there is a sense to be otherwise.
As always, he gently looked at me in the eyes and said, “Mm-hmm.”
This exchange would be our best way of communicating that while sensing something out of synchrony, to our best team effort, everything would be just fine regardless of what was ahead.
His posture and look on the couch silently told me he was on guard for his family. “My angel.” I recall hearing my thoughts say.
My part played it cool, directing and hosting as expected.
Seeing my oldest still eyeing the uninvited guest, gathering he and my other children to feel uneasy and somewhat concerned about having this guest in our home, I found myself directly, but calmly, walking over to where this visitor was sitting.
Right away, to not my surprise, I could hear this person whispering to her apparent additional accompaniment, “Here she comes. Remember not to believe anything she says.”
Hearing this, I introduced myself to the visitor’s guest, someone whom I sensed knew me, but who timidly looked to the side without looking up to meet my eyes.
While I could hear the person cordially responding back to me in the most polite way, I saw that her lips had been sewn together, with skin laid over the stitches, fully covering her mouth.
She, too, looked of fear and worry, as if she was wanting to say more, but was careful and hesitant in her words. (This part reminds me of a young lady who met eye contact with me while standing next to an apparent guard in a Vegas lobby in timid shame, fear, and as if to say, “Set me free.” Being with our youngest two and my husband, I could only offer her my peace and calm as I gave her a reassuring smile. In my dreams, I gave the same.)
I heard this uninvited woman speak of my children to the woman with the sewn lips to which I smiled again. To no one’s view, as if to offer to shake her hand with both of mine amidst my family, I saw my right hand take one of her fingers, bend it backwards, and with an unmoved smile, as I sensed all my children to look nervously our way, I whispered closely to her, “Never get near my children again or it will be the end of you. Understood?”
Wisely, while I could feel her holding in her pain and fear, she managed a, “Yes.”
The sound of my alarm clock, as if on cue, woke me at that very moment.
I remember saying to myself, “Was that me?” before returning back to peace with a prayer for the uninvited and whatever, if there were to be any, her guest symbolized.
Immediately, I withdrew any thoughts of worry.
My oldest children are of age to accountably handle their own choices and actions. Regardless of the uninvited, they are capable of warding off opposition and division.
It is within each of them.
In this world, I have handled trying moments in peace.
I recall back when my oldest had just started kindergarten and I was waving quite madly to this other mother as I was driving away from the school parking Iot while she stood outside.
Surprised, she would not look my way, as if she was the only one who did not hear me. I know to do this a lot, myself, as I am known to be fixated within my own thoughts, so I gave it another try another day, making sure this time, she would see me front and center.
She waved a somewhat cordial wave, but enough to give me the sense she was uneasy seeing me.
I did what I thought to do best. I called her that afternoon to ask what was the matter and if all were okay.
In summation, she had told me that another neighbor had told her to stay away from me and not to talk to me following what I apparently had said about her and her children.
Like all puzzle pieces put together, I gathered the presented misunderstanding and approached the matter with my unhidden truth.
I kindly asked this mother to let the other mother know that we had spoken. I knew the other mother would have to fill in the rest once having known of my message.
Before I knew it, one mother was at my door giving me a gift card while the other recalled nothing in regards to what she had suggested I said upon me calling her just to see how she was doing.
The truth prevails itself. I realize the dishonest must feed those around them what they need all to believe to keep themselves relevant in people’s lives.
I have been trained for this.
The fear in the dishonest- the truth will prevail itself upon your undying innocence.
Keeping truth at a far distance, the relevance of the dishonest can continue to those they have fooled.
As long as the vision is blurred, the guilty can play innocent up close.
I have known why people have suggested I need not speak to another or to stay away from another. I think to myself, “You are too late. I already know your truth.”
Silence is a formidable armor. You hear better. You also see better. Clear and close.
Thus, no matter how far one stands away, you are already aware of one’s character.
It will be for the rest who have found temporary rest in those corridors of deceit where they will hope to find strength in accepting and facing actual truth, eventually pushing out and away.
Time ticks amidst such playground in where those who stay never grow out of childish ways. Still, time goes with or without you.
The good thing about knowing the deceptive is the awareness of their deceptions.
Those who truly believe in you are at your side and will not falter. In cases where they do, I also know, and accept, it is because they wanted to believe all that was said.
The world does you a favor to release the weeds amongst the grain. In time, the prevailing works beyond any of your actions or plans.
Breathe. Relax. Let go.
I prayed for the uninvited in my dream and what I reflected as a symbolism of those entangled by the deceptive, I also prayed for those, praying that they will be strong enough to break away from the one who has them stitched within their own skin.
I gave them all strength, love, and understanding.
I prayed for all to break free from imprisonment they may have not even realized they sold themselves into.
I have been told I am too nice, always finding the good in something or someone.
I suppose so. A speck of one’s light can shine upon even the darkest of all things.
Staying whole and pure keeps you unbroken. There is victory in good stance.
That alter ego in my dream with the bending the finger part? You can only laugh.
I asked my husband what he thought about that part. He suggested I have anger held in.
I did test out as the Hulk for a Marvel character. If that be the case of me, that had to have still been Bruce Banner talking to the uninvited.
The Hulk would not have just bent a finger.
Even if dreams were to suggest something, Bruce Banner is not real. Neither is the Hulk.
