streaming thought

I have a fascinating dream life. I'd go so far as to say my dream life is more interesting than my real life.

Recently, I had a dream with shadowy figures in it. I call them mud entities, because I don't know how else to describe them. I keep thinking about the dream and what the entities represented: me, others, spirit guides, what? I'm not sure and it's driving me a little mad, because I have a feeling the dream is significant and none of my current theories about what it meant ring true for me.

Reading about how humans got started on this Earth, I've run into a lot of alien stories. Many African tribes tell us that we came from the stars. Apparently, the Illuminati believes at least some of us came from space. I don't generally care about all that, but I did have an out-of-body experience once in which I was definitely not a human. It was very cool. The furniture and bathroom (especially) were just like human stuff, but much larger.

Some people think stuff like that is crazy. I've always been the sort of person who was fascinated by stories like that. I've never really cared if I had any experiences myself, I just thought it was cool. Probably has something to do with why I love science-fiction.

So, back to my mud entities. They weren't made of mud in my dream. That's just what I thought of when I tried to describe them. And, there was a point in the dream where the entity I was following needed to go into the earth. Like a hibernation of some sort. And, it decided to go into a shack, instead, and smoke a cigarette. Only, it had no mouth (or eyes or nose). When the sun fully rose, it disappeared. Just *poof*. Gone. And, the dreaming me stood there, stunned. Then, the real me woke up wondering what the dream was about and who the entity was.

I often have dreams about myself as another entity. Or there are a couple of me in the dream; one acting and one observing. I've always felt separate from myself, if that makes sense. I've never felt like one person. I'm easily three or more people in one life, one body. My dreams seem to bear that out.

There's a horror film in which a girl walks up to herself. The "herself" she's walking up to has her back turned to her walking self. I've had moments like that in dreams. It seems like whenever I ask my spirit guides to present themselves to me, one is always me. She always looks like me or has my energy.

I think that means I'm my own guide in this life. I've known that all along, but getting confirmation is still unsettling. Everyone looks to me for guidance. Even my self.

I'm not sure how I feel about that, yet. And, I'm not sure the mud entity was me. I'm also not sure it wasn't.

whole holes holed up in woe

As I sit here thinking about how spiritually important music is...and how we must be careful with the music we subject ourselves to because that music helps create our self-talk...I realize how porous the Soul, Spirit, Self (or whatever you want to call it) is. There aren't just two openings (head and heart). It's like skin...to the naked eye, it looks solid, but when you get closer and if you use a microscope, you see holes and liquid and movement. Holes everywhere.

Holes everywhere.

I wonder if that's why scientists, etc. find black holes so fascinating. Even out in the big, expansive universe, there are...holes. Holes symbolize potential. They symbolize integration. They symbolize the Unknown.

If I look at a hole, I don't see a void. I don't see emptiness. I see something interacting with its surroundings in a different way. The inherent purpose of a hole is not to be filled up, but if you do...be careful. The hole has its own contributions and they must be respected.

So back to the porous Soul/Spirit/Self. I like to think of Life as Perfect Imperfection. (Imperfect Perfection is a different thing.) As I was washing apples this morning, I saw one with a soft, mushy spot. Maybe it had been dropped, but the way the spot was formed led me to believe a bug had probably been involved somehow. The Old Me considered throwing the apple out. Bugs in apples? Eeeew! But, the New Me said, "Uh, duh. Bugs belong in apples. They grow outdoors, for crying out loud." and we had a good laugh.

That apple was perfect. If I looked at it and chose to see something "wrong", that was not the apple's problem. Even with it's blemish and uneven coloring, it was perfect. Perfectly imperfect. And, I can honor that.

I can honor it in people, too. When I look at my holes, I try to understand them, not just make them go away. A hole is not necessarily a sign of absence. A blemish is not necessarily as sign of injury or wrongness. There is a whole (ha!) flipside to everything around us. How much time do we spend pondering the holes versus filling them up so that they disappear and look like everything else around them?

Peace