Marvelous Mornings

From an email:
"Talk about relating. Why do I love, enjoy and bask in time alone. I marvel at my own existence. I'm a little embarrassed to admit it and own it. It is so unheard of. Who does that? I kid you not, one of my favorite things in the morning when I wake up on a Saturday, Sunday or other no-work day is to literally roll around on the bed smiling and grinning at my life,

the way it unfolds so magically (my view of it anyway)
the freedom I have
that I wake up aware of the angels around me and communicate with them
that I have dreams that tell wondrous tales
that I can do whatever I want on these mornings (not that I do much more than the usual reading the paper, drinking my tea, emailing or talking on the phone...but I COULD)"

Gilbert and I have been talking about my gift to give...if that wasn't already clear.

I get a kick out of marveling at God, at beauty, at myself, at life, at ideas, at crystals, an angels, at options..... I didn't know until recently that my relationship to marveling, my particular brand of it, was something different from the experiences of most folks.

That's important to put on the table because we've talked about Saturday mornings before and I never cared or found it important to identify what I do when I wake up on many a weekend morning. I've only been really aware of it for the past couple of years. By aware, I'm mean present enough to appreciate it. I've had them my whole life whenever I can wake up alone.

No longer distracted by anything external, she was finally able to bask in her own existence, and found it splendid.



It wasn't until I watched the movie and heard those words that I was able to identify, to recognize myself, and in particular, to recognize my mornings. After all these years of talking about Saturday mornings, I was always able to say what I didn't do, but never what I did do.



What do I think about specifically when I'm doing all that reveling, all that basking?



OK..this is me going public. I've never shared this because I'm just now getting to a place where I don't fear that I may be crazy. Better said, I'm just now at a place where your reaction to what I'm about to write won't change my experience of it. You don't have to believe it. In the past, I was on less certain ground (pay attention Gilbert, as this relates to "secrets"). I couldn't share this because I didn't want anyone to take the experience away from me by casting doubt on it, by mocking it, by questioning any aspect of it. I've had enough of that, had enough of it as a child. If I learned one thing about me and my fantastic marveling it was to keep it to myself if it mattered the least little bit to me....lest it be cruelly, deliberately, or insensitively taken away.



Today, I have confidence enough in the experience, certainty enough in it's being true for me, that I don't care how fantastic it sounds or how unfamiliar it is to the rest of humanity...and, MOST IMPORTANT, I'm not afraid that, really, I'm just crazy.



So here's one of my favorite mornings:

I have some cool dream. I lie in bed and reflect on it. Usually, if it's really something I need to get or understand I'll have three different dreams that all have some theme.



The theme that matters is usually not the obvious one. So I lay in bed and I replay as much of each dream as I can. I intuitively have a sense for which dream is most fleeting and most needs to get downloaded before I lose something. If I have a distraction-free morning I don't have to write them down, the details stick if I spend time reflecting immediately after awakening.



As I play with them, find themes and recall some of the more interesting details, I begin to marvel at the symbolism used. The way my mind put it together to make a point. I am often in awe.



After I ooh and awe a while, I start to appreciate the application of the dream to my life. That's when the real fun starts. Because then, that's when I hit a little resistance. My ego starts to see that the dream implies I need to do something a little differently, grow a little, move closer to God in some area of my life.



When my ego starts to resist a little, that's when the angels...yes, the angels...chime in. Maybe they're dead relatives, aka ancestors. Maybe it's just my higher self. Whatever, whoever, however...I hear these smart-ass comments. On occasion, I've even felt like they were God Himself commenting on my need to get with His program.



Sometimes they just put a smile on my face. The comments usually sound something like, "No, of course you shouldn't listen to the obvious sense of that dream, what you've been doing so far is working so well...obviously." Who wouldn't laugh? If the comment isn't sarcastic, then it might be just plain insightful images, like suddenly a string of relevant situations fly through my mind all at once. They are judiciously chosen, ordered and screened. I can't help but accept the message, face the truth, learn the lesson, apply the wisdom.



Donna, you've recently heard me revel in doing two things--napping and walking the neighborhood. It's more of the same thing.



If I could I spend my every moment of every day doing nothing more than communing. Communing with nature, communing with God...and watching movies, I'd be a very content camper.



Communing with people can work too, but I've still got a bunch of issues that keep me from getting caught up in nonsense when I defensively sense any kind of criticism, competition, complaining, pointless jabber-jawing or manipulation of even the tiniest degree. Then I can't be bothered even the tiniest degree.



So, those mornings I'm talking about have become more and more common since I got off the meds. Since I brought in all those crystals into my home, I don't get bad dreams or nightmares anymore...Seriously! As recently as somewhere between 6 and 10 months ago, I did have one. I haven't had one since. I started housing crystals in my room 12 months ago. Yep, just 12. I have had a cross on my bed for three years, if you were wondering. There's no such thing as too much support. God doesn't make anything useless.



All that to say, the absence of nightmares and medicines have only increased those kinds of mornings. The communing type. In the past, they'd be interspersed with the "planning my day" mornings, now much less so. In fact, since I stopped committing to things I'm not genuinely interested in doing, I hardly ever have them.



Well, I can't really distinguish how much is not committing to things I'm not genuinely interested in doing and how much is the ability to be present without social anxiety in whatever I participate.