Dreams of Mara

Hello Mara. Happy New Year.

I had the dreams about you again last night.

Some dreams it’s light. I can hold it up, and it’s an ephemeral thing. A fugitive in the night. A ghost of a memory. Almost transparent, invisible, hazy. Barely there. Then it slips away, like a fog rolling out to a calm sea. And I find myself, and it’s warm. A glow, deep inside me.

Then, there are days it’s an anvil. Heavy. I can hardly lift it. My shoulders sag, my chest hurts. It’s more than a rain of tears, it’s thunder.

The attachment. A heavy thing should be easy to let go of. But it’s not.

A dream away, all my good-byes. A dream away, all my hopes. All my attachments. Some times I am so close. I see that “I” don’t exist. And yet I am everything at the same time.

I have to face it. The fire in the furnace. The only way I’m ever going to let go, is when I can face my fear of it directly. Way down in the hole. Until then, it’s more good-byes, it’s more justifying, it’s rationalizing. Again and again.

Until I can give up the anger. Until I can give up my selfishness. Until I can forgive. These are the lessons. These are the reason you were there. The reasons you are still here.

And you will you be here/there, teaching me these lessons, over and over until I see that it isn’t you at all. It’s me.