Darkly Dreaming

Darkly Dreaming

If I was a good story teller I would start with telling you to shut your eyes.
To imagine a place like that among the stars. For this is how my dream starts.

I awake in a place between places were everything is connected to everything else. I am among friends and loved ones. This is known. Not spoken just known. An in this place between places all is shared be it thought or feelings or old memories. While here it comes between those near that we can and will make another. A new one. A clean slate. So we do and as we bring the new one into being it has questions. Things like what does home mean or where is it and other things. Things that all mean something different to each of us.

So unsatisfied that we cannot tell it these things it asks to be allowed to go and find out what such things would be for it. An we agree that yes this can be done. An I am picked to show it the way. The way to a "home" a way to a place to move between here and everything else. So that is what I do.

I touch on the connection that I know of as a place to do so. To move from the formless to a place of being of a place where shape becomes more than just a idea. We arrive but it is mostly just me that arrives. The other does not have enough self to become a solid thing. For at this moment this other being/soul is still just mostly a thing of will brought together into existents by others.

Where we come to is a small island with a house on it. Just a small thing. We go in and there are all the ones I hold dearest to me. Two are older than all the rest and they are sitting in chairs relaxing and talking with all that are here.

Between the two oldest sits a bowl. What seems to be a very small bowl and delicate. I know this is where it starts. This is what I am going to pour that bit of being into and this strikes me all at once of being very sad but it is what was asked of me and I am to do it. So in goes this soul and at the moment it leaves the shelter of me I know it's not just a soul but it's going to be a woman's soul. All the others in the room watch in fascination as this tiny thing is let into this small bowl. We all know that this alone will not be enough as she doesn't fill up all of this small bowl.

So one by one those nearest and dearest to me each come and give something of themselves to the bowl. Some give time others give ideas and feelings. As they give this small parts of themselves they leave the room. They are not just leaving though I know. They are going to be reborn again and in doing so they are going to be a part of this souls life in someway. Some small and some large. At last it's just me and the two oldest in the room. One picks up the little bowl and hands it to me and says it's full enough now and the other gets up from his seat and says yes it's time. Again I am struck with that sense of this being sad.

I follow the old man out of the little house and down to the side of the island that meets water. There I am to set the little bowl adrift into the sea of the unknown, the sea of time and life. As I kneel down to do it I know I was not asked for more to be given of me. That was not my task. But I can if I wish to. I also know in doing so I will be set out on that same sea adrift once more but I will not be like the others that were waiting in the house. I will not have that guarantee of seeing this souls in the next cycle of rebirth. Whatever I give will connect me yes but it is a roll of the dice and only a chance at it.

I look at the old man and smile as I set the bowl into the water and a tear rolls down my face to land in the bowl. With it goes love and I am set to the sea again.