Dreaming of the Light

Dream

Is it dark in heaven, does anybody know?  I can’t imagine it is ever dark up there, or wherever the there may be.  I have read the stories of people who have travelled there and returned after being cast out to continue thier lives and you won’t find anyone who arrived in the dark.  They, the returned, mostly talk of a bright light, a warmth and of being greated by those that went before them and stayed.  You never hear of anyone who had to turn the light on when they arrived or needed a match.

I think that is why we might be a littled frightened of the dark, especially as children.  Darkness is particular to our existence here, it is put here to show us the difference between heaven and earth.  I think it is supposed to be unnerving until we realise there is really nothing to it, only what we create with our imaginations.  I think of my childhood dreams, of being chased by monsters and such, who never really existed in the light of day.

On the other side, whatever or wherever it is, I have heard the colours are supposed to be so bright, like nothing we have ever seen.  It all appears to be full of brightness and colour  and there are not any dark corners, darkness does not exist, well not in anything I have read.  And then I think of my dreams,  I dream in colour, sometimes wonderful colours.  I don’t remember ever dreaming of the dark, I wonder where I am going.

My dreams are created by me, by my subconscious to to give me a message, help me work something out or teach me something.  I sometimes wonder if I’m travelling beyond this world in my dreams, I do think there is a connection here somewhere. I do have disturbing dreams, big empty rooms, I often miss aeroplanes and I have been naked but I think these are just things I’m working through.

I dream of people that have passed on and sometimes they feel so real, they hug me and I wake up crying.  Other times they are just there in my dream and I think created by me as I am missing them and trying to find them.  Because I have people that live there, I believe in another place even if it only accessible at the moment through my dreams.

I’m not afraid of the dark now because it’s just made up of fear and not knowing.  I try look into the depth of it and try and find the light and colour there, because I know it is there, my people are there.  If it is true that spirits or whatever you call them, are here but exist beyond our sight or understanding, then we should if we look really closely be able to find them in the light, right?

I’m gong to continue to search for the light in my dreams and while I’m awake, I want to understand it.  Sometimes when awake I see little specks of colour, shiny dust I think of it as and it sprinkles around the room.  At night I see the same little specks moving around in the dark.  I do sometimes think I might be getting there speck by speck  but for now it’s only a dream.

 

The Power of You

You hold me in mind and lend me your strength,

Propelling me forward by sheer will alone.

I begin now, to recognise and believe in myself,

Strong and empowered by the experience of you.

On my life’s journey, I know you are near.

Your thoughts travel with me, protecting my way.

As attached to your soul by invisible thread,

embroidered like silk and tied with love.

The power of love calms storms, clears the sky.

You prop me up, sensing you tall inside.

Planes held aloft, on the winds of your will.

Deep love brings me home again, safely to you.

No time for Sagas

Saga

What a palaver, you go on and on, of the days long ago when you were strong.

Fabricated stories, great wars and love, please shut up, ‘dear god above’.

Don’t give me your tales, of woe and strife, I simply don’t need them in my life.

Heroic tales of days gone by, I don’t want to hear, they won’t make me cry.

There are those that will listen, invite you in, those who are bored and somewhat dim.

Yes, some will listen, with mouths a gasp, tell your tale there, no need to be fast.

Hastily now, take your big yarns away, be off with your saga without delay.

Death Songs

Sing

I collect death songs. Death songs are what I call my friends and families funeral songs, I think it important we get it right and therefore they have to choose what they want played. A song that is just right for everybody coming in, a song for the coffin entering and so on through the service.

These death song lists are kept on my iPhone notes under headings like ‘David Dead’ and ‘Laura Dead’. Each friend gets to choose five songs each and they go along with this to keep me entertained. I take it quite seriously, much to everybody’s amusement. My sister gets me, it was her that started it in the first place. Mum chose her own funeral music and even decided on the guest list, there were people who would not have been welcome. The music was perfect and because she chose it I often play these songs when I’m thinking of her.

There are some real tear jerkers in there among my friends songs and some hilarious ones like ‘I know it’s over, The Smiths and Try Not to Breath, REM. I must tell you now, most of these people are only in their early fifties and could well have another thirty or forty years. A lot of them might well outlive me so it will be important for me to hand these songs over on time.

I think people go along with me as I say, either choose your songs or I will sing one for you. Now it is a well known fact that I can’t sing, I love to but I can’t. My dream is to learn to sing on the quiet and create a video to sing for my friends one last time!

What are your five songs?

The Foundation

Take a deep breath in and release. Watch closely as one by one, on each breath, the cares of the day are let go. Feel that moment of stillness, feel the silence around you and know you are at one with the universe.

Any thoughts that pop up for you, acknowledge and let them pass you by, watch as they dissolve into nothingness.

(Silence)

Now see a staircase in front of you, create the staircase. The steps can be made of whatever you wish, visualise it now. Know that there are ten steps and you are on the top step. Slowly now, step down.

One…

Two…

Three…

Four..

Five, you are half way now..

Six..

Seven..

Eight..

Nine..

Ten..

Now you step from the staircase you find yourself in a field, a summer meadow, full with colourful wild flowers. Look at the tiny heads blowing softly in the wind. What colour stands out for you?

On the other side of the field, there is a seat. You know what the seat looks like, it’s your seat. On the seat there is a brick. I want you to take a seat, lift the brick and put it onto your lap. I want you to look closely at your brick, what is it made of, it could be stone or maybe it’s a crystal, it’s your brick only you know.

This brick is your foundation stone, you are going to lay it, this is your foundation to your future. I’m going to leave you to this task but think carefully about where the stone should be laid, lay it and do it with ceremony. Leave a marker so that you can return again when you feel the need.

(Silence)

You have a few minutes now and then I want you to come back to your body. When your ready open your eyes, move your hands and feet and feel your connection to the earth.

Does anyone have anything they wish to share?

The Look of Love

Pensive

Alan looked tenderly over at Gail and smiled, ‘Well come on then, it can’t be that difficult’ he pushed his fingers gently into her ribs in a joking fashion. ‘I asked you to explain our love in just five words, it can’t be that hard, surely!’

She hoped her face didn’t give her away, she tried to look pensive, thoughtful and stared off across the room into the dwindling fire. Pensive, that was the look she needed, she wanted to appear as if she was deep in thought, looking for just the right words to express the emotions she felt about their love. In truth, she was screaming inside, she didn’t know if she loved him anymore, in fact she didn’t really know if she ever did. She was in such turmoil, inside she was a million pieces that wouldn’t fit together anymore.  She focussed on the butterflies in her stomach and willed them all to settle down nicely on a branch.

She thought back to when they first met, he was queuing behind her at the canteen and she took the last vegetable lasagne. He let out a large sigh and then immediately laughed and excused himself. ‘I’m sorry’ he laughed ‘ did that actually come out?’. That was the beginning of their relationship, they settled for the lasagne, a portion of chips and salad and two plates. It had been easy, they went to the same university and lived a couple of blocks apart. They settled, like they did for the lunch ten years ago.

Alan was solid, he didn’t give her the rush she was used to but that she thought was because she was growing older and wiser. He was safe, he had a good job and they enjoyed the same things, both loved photography, to dance and to sleep in on a weekend. Alan would look after her into her old age, he would hold her hand still when it was covered in wrinkles and sun spots, she knew that for sure, but was that enough. It was last week anyway, before Brian came to stay. ‘Brian the bum’ as Alan called his brother.

Alan was out of town and Gail and Brian opened that extra bottle of wine after dinner. Brian got his guitar out and played some of the songs he had written. Later that night as she turned off the light, she realised she had been waiting for someone to knock her of her perch. She needed the wake up call to show her not everything in the garden was rosy. She did regret sleeping with him in his brothers house but not the good slap around the face it had given her.

She felt her cheeks redden, her heart beat frantically and knew she couldn’t keep the pensive look up any longer.

‘I don’t love you anymore’

Leaving You

IMG_4501

I have tried to leave you on a number of occasions, but it is impossible as you always conspire to keep me. I can make up my mind to go and then suddenly I find myself sitting on the beach with you, looking out at the vastness of the sea and wondering if I could really ever be truly happy anywhere else.

I often toy with being away from the craziness of us, I imagine being alone somewhere, maybe in a field, with just the birds singing. But I’m not, I’m still here with you, I stay as I always have since you came into my life. You give me that constant buzz, there is always something going on with us, you still amuse me.

I don’t remember when we first met, it was so long ago and in those first days we just danced and flirted with the idea of us. It wasn’t until much later that I knew I had to be with you.  I packed up my home without a seconds thought and moved to be with you.  I wanted to merge with you, be a part of you, I knew I loved you.

It was hard at first, we were different, your people were different. I had to make changes, I had to soften my edges. You are always changing, still changing, but you’re still the same in the most important ways. You’re welcoming, you always look after everyone, you want them all to have a good time, night and day you keep going.  I remember the festivals and music we danced to, I remember the newness of everything, the excitement and the joy of living.  You still excite me, although I see all sides of you now.

The people you have introduced me to will always be in my life, wherever I go. You knew they would be my people, those crazy, weird and lovely people. Then there is the kindness and love I have discovered here, discovered in myself. I’m not sure I would have found that anywhere else in the world, you gave me that, you provided the opportunities.

As with all great love affairs, I think one day we, you and I will come to an end. But our ending will be gentle, never painful, not us. I will eventually find the courage to leave you, but it will be gradual at first, a few days at a time until I can manage the final goodbye.

I will always love you, there will always be a special place in my heart. Brighton, you will always be my home.

.

Going Home

She walked down the cobbled pathway towards toward her childhood home, she hadn’t been back in years and yet it looked just the same. The shiny cobbles the rain had washed and shined for her arrival, the blossom floating between the cobbles, knocked from the tree in the shower sparked memories of days gone by. A rainbow appeared to arch the ally down the hill to the small house where she had been brought up. Didn’t that signify a pot of gold, she certainly hoped so.

She was looking for herself, she was in search of what was constant inside of her, what was true. She had changed so much since she left the village, travelled the world and met so many people she felt that she had been moulded into something else completely. She wanted to find her essence in all the confusion of life and had felt a pull to return to where it began if she were ever to find the truth.

She wanted to find what was real, not just thought, fear or judgement but real and constant. She knew she had to come back to the village, experience the peace of the place and still her mind. She took a deep breath and slowly let it leave her body as she took a step closer to the house at the end of the lane.

Her therapist had asked her what in her life was constant and she hadn’t been able to answer. She thought it was something about who she really was and might be discovered in returning to where she had come from at the very beginning of her life. The place she had felt safe in, the place in which she had been allowed to be her natural and authentic self.

Now she knew she had to let go of yesterday and the city, let all the thoughts go past. Accept and let them pass, she did’t want to dwell on them, she didn’t want to loose track of why she was here. She looked down at her feet, connecting to the earth and step by step moved closer to home.

The gate still hung from the rickety post, she lifted the latch and pushed it open stepping onto the path. Flowers framed the pathway to the front door, smiling up at her as she passed them, welcoming her home. The door was still green, a slightly deeper shade but green non the less. She put her hand on the brass handle, feeling the warmth of the metal in her palm. She took another deep breath, opened the door and stepped through.

She was in the parlour, it was exactly how she had remembered although she didn’t want to think she wanted to still her mind. The same old comfy chair was in the middle of the room and she stepped towards it and sat, hands open on her lap. Her mind was still and her heart was open as she sat there waiting, watching and listening. She saw herself sitting, she watched as thoughts passed by in trickles, she let them go, detaching herself from anything outside of herself. For the first time in a long time she felt at one with herself, she wasn’t watching herself anymore she was connected to her true self, her essence. She felt love and realised she was love, love was all there was, love was her constant.  She was at one with the watcher inside, the self that accepted without judgment, she was home.

A breeze blew through her hair and she opened her eyes from her meditation and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She uncrossed her legs and stretched up with her arms, it was always good to go home and get away from the city.

Defence

Heisenberg looked up at the early morning sun through the bars on his prison cell. Today he would be going home, he thought to himself, tonight he would eat steak. He got up from his bunk and washed himself at the sink. He was looking forward to a swim in the lake later, he wanted to wash the filth of the prison away.

Dressed and ready Nick Heisenberg sat patiently on his bunk waiting for his defence lawyer to arrive. He wanted to be out of here now but resigned himself to the fact that there was one more day of court before he was free.

He thought it over one more time, he didn’t put Catlin in the box, that was just supposition and as she hadn’t been seen by anyone, no-one could prove she had ever been in the box.  He really believed he had it sussed, she couldn’t be called to the witness box as she couldn’t be found. As far as he was concerned there wasn’t a case to answer. So what if her finger nail had been found at the bottom, she could have caught it closing the lid the last time she sorted the laundry. That there was blood too, could just as easily be explained away, she would have caught herself on the box, that’s obviously how the nail split, it should be clear to everyone.

He wanted time with his defence lawyer this morning, he wanted to remind him of the importance of his summing up today. The jury would have surmised that the equation appeared simple enough, one missing body, one broken nail and one box with a lid and large enough to hold a body, added together equal murder.

Police reports had been read out in court of calls to the couples home, his history of violence had been discussed over and over.  Catlin’s friends had spoken out of her fear of him and desperate wish to get away, maybe she had finally left, one said.  Heisenberg smiled and nodded across the court as the stupid girl let this slip.  Catlin would never have left of her own accord, she was simple but who was he to protest today.

The defence would need to argue that it was more than just simple mathematics, he would need to introduce a quantum element into his summing up. The supposition that she had died in the box could not be proved, even if she had been put in there or even climbed into the box herself once the lid was down no-one could really prove if she was dead or alive. The closed box could only lead to the conclusion that Catlin was alive and dead after the lid was closed because she wasn’t observed after that point. That her body hadn’t been found, wouldn’t be found, would surely only go in his favour.

Later that day as Heisenberg again looked at the night sky through the prison bars and he cursed.  He cursed his inadequate and sloppy defence, he cursed the jury for their pre-formed opinion of him and he cursed loudly Catlin’s body being found so late in the day.  Most of all though, he cursed that he put her in the box in the first place, dear sweet Catlin who would have visited him and loved him whatever.