I’m Hyperventilating

Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree and Rising.

Wowser. That was…amazing.

 

Sometimes my dreams take on a different “texture” so that they’re an odd blend of being in a twilight place where I talk to the Higher Selves of others. It’s a slightly less “controlled” form of communication than when I walk between the worlds in my meditations. In my meditations, it’s generally who/what I allow into my bubble of energy whereas in dreams of this type, there are all sorts of other energies around. It’s more like a public meeting place than it is my personal space.

For much of this dream, I am in a large auditorium. I’m not surprised. There’s much activity and communication here. I’m sitting at least 2/3rds of the way back, on the left-hand side, on the aisle. This gathering spot is so big that there is a large screen hanging above the center of the audience so those in the back can see better. From where I am, I can see what’s happening on the stage but also on the screen above, and ironically, there’s more on the screen than on the stage.

Many of my pagan friends are here as well as various spiritual people I’ve met or wanted to meet. The woman who sits beside me is a well-known spiritual leader and I try to talk to her but she’s preoccupied. I finally earn her displeasure when I compliment another spiritual leader. I feel a bit naive because these are all people whom I enjoy, or at least enjoy some aspect of their leadership and learn from them, yet they are not cohesive.

When the show is over, I make my way through throngs, chatting and saying hello, and near the stage among so many others, I spot him. Well, of course, he’d be here!

Though he’s often alone when he comes to me in my meditations, in these dreams, there are always a bazillion people around. They seem to hover around him, sucking at his energy, demanding his attention. I don’t do that. I give him space and allow him to talk with me when they’re pulling at him less. Why do people do that with him? It’s as if they’re always swirling around him, wanting some part of him. Maybe this is why he’s started to spend more time alone in my Meditative Forest where it’s peaceful and no one tugs at him.

One thing I notice right away: the woman isn’t with him. He has never once acknowledged her or her presence, not even when she stood over him as warden and he kept his eyes on me beyond her form. She’s been following him into my meditations on several occasions since last July, cloaking herself in the late fall to follow him, but a few months ago became intensely controlling, not interfering with his connection with me in the Ether—though certainly trying—but more of a smugness toward me and constant reminders that she is in control. The last time, she was still smug but didn’t seem to have any real interest in him. How funny that women can be catty in the encounters in the Ether! She’s not here now, exerting her control over him and smirking at me, and I wonder if she has lost interest entirely.

We say hello and I sit in his general area while others mingle with him. This is how it always happens—other people grab his attention and he’s busy talking. There’s always a sense of “busy” around him. I suddenly realize he’s there in his professional demeanor. Light brown pants, white dress shirt, hair neatly cropped. He is friendly but reserved, much more conservative than in a private setting. But he sits beside me, even so, as he continues his animated discussion.

They’re all talking about the Law of Attraction and about making things happen. I realize I have a small case in my hands, like a DVD case but larger, and it holds cut-out pictures of various things I want to put on my vision boards I’m making to show what I want to attract to me. This is really more of a vision box than vision board.Life Coaching Tips

I sit for some time and listen to all the chatter around me. I watch the people break off into little groups to talk a few feet away. The crowd has dwindled but it’s still quite active here. He still sits beside me, but his attention is on business.

As I start to stand, I spill my vision box on the floor and then bend to gather up my hopes for the future and leave.

“Where are you going?” A little distraught, he turns suddenly in the seat beside me. All this time, talking with others, and now his attention is back on me.

“I’m leaving,” I tell him. “Just as soon as I gather up my visions.” I continue to catch them in the box, and close it, and press it to my heart as I again start to stand.

“You can’t leave,” he tells me.

“Of course, I can!” I glance down at my box of visions.

He delays me by asking about the box, about what it’s for. I explain that it’s a tool, like a vision board, that holds the visions I have for the future I want.

“A tool,” he teases. “Most people want to throw things at me. You’ll probably hit me with it.”

I don’t stand quite yet. “If I hit you with it, then something would break apart and you’d probably have a hailstorm flurry of my visions coming down all around you!”

He laughs and his voice gets very low. “Don’t leave.”

I’m aware of how close we’re sitting, how we’re leaning into each other as though we’re telling secrets, that this is still a very public place and the others around us would think this inappropriate but this time, it doesn’t seem to matter to him.

And then he leans in for a quick kiss, a brush of lips, something not lingering but sweet.

I close my eyes, expecting that to be the end of it. Instead, he launches a deep, passionate kiss—long, slow, lingering, desperate, sending the rest of the world away. I’m caught off-guard and wowed. I still have my visions pressed to my heart between us but I lift one hand to his shoulder. I’m aware that others are watching us and aware of his kiss and aware of being here with him and there are so many levels of awareness around us at this moment. His shoulder is stiff under my hand, and I feel the fear in his shoulder but not in his kiss.

I think I’m the one who pulls away first, more out of surprise and to catch my breath. When I open my eyes, I am in my bed, in the filtered daylight, alone but with a passionate energy following me.


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