There may be some people on the planet that don’t know we’re experiencing a global pandemic that has changed the face of modern life for almost all, but without a doubt, most of us, around the world, know some heavy shit has hit the fan.
How does it make us feel?
How does it make us act?
Here’s my birthday dream.
Bridge Tunnel Up Through the Fog
April 29, 2020
I’m driving my car; I’m alone. There are many cars on the road, like an exodus or a rush hour.
I’m nervous to be in this situation, but have no choice. I must stay calm, despite the congested traffic, which I hate, and keep going.
Then, as we enter the huge tunnel an intense blanket of Fog rolls in, obscuring the car lights right in front of me. Everyone is going very slowly, no one can see.
I look to the side and see that there’s a banister, like a hand-rail made of wood that you’d see on a grand staircase. There are small running lights along it. I open my window and reach out and hold it. As we’re crawling forward through the fog, I know that as long as I use the rail for anchoring and guidance, I’ll make it out of this fog and bridge tunnel safely.
Even as I wrote my dream out, first long-hand, then typing it, I could feel gratitude and awe welling up in me as I made the connections to my life that the symbols and the experience is offering me.
What’s equally wonderful is that I didn’t remember any dream at first; it came to me as I sat down to my laptop midmorning. Sometimes a dream will do that, appear later in the day, perhaps starting with a scene unfolding in memory or a symbol synchronistically jumping out to me from my waking environment. This one came back like a fog would roll in; it was the fog that first drew me to unravel the rest of the story.
As I let myself feel the actual dampness and sense of isolation in a crowd my dream fog brought with it, I became aware of some of the dream’s wisdom for me.
What better metaphor for our experience in this pandemic; a fog has rolled in, obscuring everyone’s path, making it feel like though we’re all in this together, we’re also isolated and on our own. Each person is responsible for steering their own vehicle to safety, but what each person does can jeopardize someone else’s chances of survival; we want to make it through to the light at the end of the tunnel.
How many people see the handrail and take it? What would your handrail be? Mine, of course, is dreaming. I know, and my birthday dream is assuring me, that as long as I open the window to my inner resources, the ones that really count when things are dire, I will make it to where I need to go.
What is your handrail? If it's your religion, I hope you’re not letting yourself be filled with fear by the myriad of false prophets trading on your soul. I went for a birthday walk to the end of my street where the beach begins down a long flight of stairs. I was wearing a mask and keeping my distance. There are two lovely benches, conveniently over six feet apart, where you can watch all things beach world from above. A woman comes and sits on the other bench; she’s not wearing a mask.
She initiates a conversation and I follow it with her. She shares her fears about the virus and how people aren’t keeping distance. I had to point out the irony of her not wearing a mask. She wasn’t offended and perhaps will begin wearing one now, but what she said that most floored me was what she imparted in a lowered voice, as if confiding a deep secret: “You might think I’m crazy but I really believe this is a punishment from God for…”
I couldn’t even let her finish, though I can guess what she thinks God’s thunderbolts are for; I exclaimed, “Oh, no. God doesn’t punish; how does Love punish? God is Love; Love is God. This shit that’s happening here is a result of how badly we’ve mismanaged our existence on the planet. It’s a problem we’ve created over centuries of ignorance and a problem we’ve got to use our best resources to solve. She looked at me, at first startled, and then visibly relieved. It was obvious that God Is Love, or as I like to put it, Love Is The Answer, was what she really wanted to feel; the truth always feels right. We chatted pleasantly a little longer and then I turned to go home.
When I opened the window in my dream and took hold of the banister, two things were clear to me: It’s still up to me to drive myself through this fog, taking care that I don’t hurt others in the process; and if I look for it, support is always available. Any religion that presents god as vengeful, uptight and mean is not a religion to trust. Jesus taught two simple truths: God is Love; God is Within
It really doesn’t matter what metaphor your wrap your god/goddess in; what matters is that you can directly experience your spirituality by relating closely to your dreams. Religion might be nice for creating community, but unscrupulous men and women know they can profit off of people’s fears. Check out Kenneth Copeland on YouTube exorcising the coronavirus, spitting all over the place, ill advised behavior for sure, and claiming he can banish the pandemic; don’t forget to send him money, though.
The gift of dreaming is that it connects you, organically, to your spiritual source. Yes, for you it may be Jesus and for me it might be the Great Mother, but it really has no Shape, Name or simple Form that we can identify. It's Way bigger than any of us puny humans, so busy mucking things up on earth, can imagine. One thing for sure; it is Love. It is Compassion. If this doesn’t come through; it’s fake news.
I hope my dream might invite you to open your own window on dreaming and find for yourself the irrefutable guidance that can not only save your life but also make it so much more worth living.
Birthday cake image thanks to Wikipedia