Meditative Work: Dream Boy’s Weekly Visit

Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree Ebb and Flow.

The man in my dreams seems most fond of visiting me  on   Saturday mornings  when  I’m  meditating.  He shows  up at other  times,  too, but  most  frequently,  he picks a Saturday morning. His Higher Self seems to connect with me most at that time, but it could be because I’m less stressed and rushed on a weekend morning.

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This time, as with the last few times, he’s been much happier and very focused on his career. Rather than being at work, he  was in my home in this meditation,  but so were a lot of people. He’d  brought them with him, but not in an intentional way. They seemed to be people he socializes  with  and  therefore   “around”   him  subconsciously.

It was a short visit, he said, because he had to be back in “class” early the next day. He was learning something new, some new focus in his career efforts, so that it was almost like going back to school. We didn’t get much of a chance to talk, but he also mentioned  that it’s been so long since he was promiscuous in his younger days that he’s been kicked out of the club.

Half of what he said to me was obscured, almost encoded, so others there wouldn’t understand. One person in particular, who kept arranging things to keep us separated.  A  woman  I’ve  not  thought  about  in  a  while,  a woman  who  was  a mutual  acquaintance,  one  we  both considered  domineering,   one  who  frequently  told  me hurtful lies about him.

So why is she back in the mix? She’s somehow in contact or knows something of him again that’s gotten her so stirred up. Her feelings toward me haven’t changed. Neither has the proprietary nature of her feelings for him.

These dreams and meditations  have been so interesting to me  over  the  past  year  and  more.  For  so  many months,  there  was  the   constant  movement—the   car dreams—where we were both on a journey together and sharing our insights. Early on, he did most of the driving. Later it was me, and if he did drive, I was navigating. There were times throughout the winter and early spring when I saw him in prison and sent angels to rescue him.

These  meditative  moments  started  out  shy,  barely touching,  then  moving  to  more  progressive  emotional and  physical  moments,  culminating  and  then  stopping altogether in late May, the last one being a vivid meditation when I arrived in Daytona for the RT convention.

He was always so busy, with so many people pulling at him. I would give him space to think and someone  else would immediately fill the gap I’d given him as a gift. We could barely have a moment  alone in a dream  because others would interfere or ensnare or interrupt or attempt to destroy. Some people were intent on us not making a connection, even in these meditations.

By June, he was silent and distant in my meditations. Shut off. Alone. No one was trying to interfere then. All those who had, by then  had smugly gone on their way. He’d show up in my world, often where  I  was seeking nourishment, and watch  from  the periphery,  unable  to speak to me but so seeming to want to. So full of grief and despair  and  heaviness, and yet  walling  himself  off from me. He was lost then, but I  gave him maps and helped him pack. So painfully alone and distraught,  and then the one time when I touched his shoulder and he dissolved into sobs but wouldn’t tell me why.

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By September, things were lightening up. Something new in his job. Some new happiness. Very busy, yes, and very focused, but wanting to  share his good news with me.

Things are better now. Lighter. More social and less isolated. With music. With learning and preparing for the future again, at last.

And yet, this person from the past is right back in the mix, refusing  to leave us alone to talk and working her subtle  inferences.  I  have  to  wonder  what  she  knows about him now after so long that would have  her stepping in to try to seize control.


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