Me, Myself, and I, LLC.

In Essays, The Daily Drool on May 7, 2009 at 9:18 am

It was another odd night.  I had eaten hot dogs at 10:30, stayed up till 1 a.m. working on rewrites, and for some reason the cats decided they needed to sleep ON TOP OF MY CHEST.  No wonder I was tossing and turning.  But the dream that stuck in my mental craw upon waking was so deliciously odd that I’m still mulling it over two days later.

You see, it started it with my eyes.  In my dream I mean.  I was staring into a gigantic mirror, into my own eye’s reflection.  And they were huge.  And green, of course.  And it was weird, this staring into my own soul’s windows… And as I stared, I started to get pulled towards them – like I was in a vacuum.  And it totally freaked me out, so I looked away for a moment, caught my breathe, and tried again.  And then I was off, twisting and turning as I was pulled along and into these huge green eyes of mine, landing in a big swirly haze of eye-space (for in dreams these things make sense).  

There was a typewriter there – in the basement of my soul – A very large, life-sized (dream-sized) typewriter.  Pressed between the metal bits was a gigantic piece of white paper headed with the name of some legal group.  As I stared at the sight before me, it became obvious that I was supposed to press the keys… but to what end?  That’s when the typewriter started typing on it’s own, instructing me (as I read its type) to ask it whatever I wanted.  

Ha!  The inner skeptic in me scoffed.  I hopped onto the keys, asking it a “test” question that now escapes me, and awaited the answer.  Well, the typewriter typed something satisfactory right back to me, flooding me with a sudden awareness of where I was… I was in the belly of my own self!  I was touching base with something deeper, wiser and more in tune than the everyday me, and I was being invited to ask it questions!  I suddenly got very excited, another more personal, genuine quandary rushing to my thoughts.  And just as I was about to ask, the excitememnt bubbled, and roared, and spat me right out of the dream, so that I awoke with this silly but personal question on my lips, unanswered.

And perhaps that is best – for the everyday self cannot walk this earth with the secrets to the universe on its shoulders…  It would be too much, wouldn’t it?  To pay bills, and sit in traffic, when you are cosmically tuned in to your own inner God/Goddess?  The silliness of it all, the petty worries… they would be even more so, unbearably so, with the truth of the universe to compare it to.  Perhaps that is why we are instead allowed only the briefest of glimpses -in the laughter of a good friend, in the souls recognition and love of another, in a beautiful spring day… we experience these moments of the divine in order to be reminded that we are but a glimmer amongst it all – that this world and this life is much more than our human minds can fathom, yet we are here to make the most of it – to relish those moments when we are truly present.  And we are not doing it blind.  

But how cool that my soul’s avatar is a giant typewriter?


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