LOVELAND, COLORADO. It's funny how many times I plan to post on the blog on a certain topic or experience, only to find that I don't get to it, or I am compelled to share something entirely different. Today, I am sharing this rumination.
September 27, 2013
I had a night filled with dreams and anxiety attacks.
I dreamed about Barbara and asked why. Was told because I haven’t forgiven her
yet. I dreamed about being in Mitch Mally’s office (which was now
on the 2nd floor of a new building) and was moving furniture out of
it, collecting it to be moved (it was now mine). But the most vivid dream was
this one:
I am in Millie’s house in Sparta and Mary Ellen is there,
too. Rick has gone into town or
something. Mary Ellen is telling me about some of her happy childhood memories
of the lake. Lake Sparta is big and
churning, and seems to be growing larger.
There is rain, but it doesn’t seem to be a lot. The lake feels powerful, like the North
Atlantic. I watch as the water swells
and lake comes up the hill, taking out houses and sweeping them away. I see holes open in the ground near houses,
become dark depressions filling with water as the houses collapse. I’m standing at the front door and I see the
water just at the bottom of the property.
There is no place to go, but oddly, I’m not afraid, just powerless to do
anything except observe.
Then, from
behind the house comes a roaring sound as a mudslide brings a huge
timber-carrier truck crashing into the back of the house and the whole house
shakes. Soon, it all begins to subside, and Mary Ellen is there again, asking
what happened, and I’m worried about Rick.
Then I am outside and Rick is making his way across a muddy bog-hole on
the side of the house to get to me. He
has to swim a little ways, but he comes up smiling, as always.
I woke with anxiety really high at 5 AM, then again with a
lesser degree of it around 7. I’m trying
not to react to the anxiety attacks as an emotional response of my own. Instead I am trying to hold them at arm’s
length, not overreact to them and discern if they are actually mine or
not. The answer is they are partly mine,
because we are nearly out of money and I had to cancel two important ads I
cannot afford to pay for.
The other is that I am open and picking up on the anxiety of
entire communities here in the Rockies after the devastating floods. Does this help? Does my experiencing this
help syphon off some of the fear others are gripped by? I am a channel, after
all, perhaps I sometimes also act like a drain, a relief valve, drawing excess
negative energy away from those who are suffering. By drawing it through my own energy field, I
experience it as if it were my own, react emotionally by crying or feeling
terrible fear, but maybe that is exactly the way things are supposed to
be. Maybe my processing this energy and
releasing it in ranting or crying, I bring healing to others. If that is the case, I willingly accept my
role—but I need to understand it.
I used to think the anxiety attacks were warnings (and
sometimes they were). I found this to be
a very frustrating aspect of being psychic—why have them, if I couldn’t do
anything to stop the “bad thing” from happening? But over these past years (since leaving
Phoenix), I have found that they are very, very rarely any kind of warning,
because my life has done nothing but improve in the past 13 years. We got a house, I went to Americorps/Red
Cross, I went to four colleges and got four degrees, went to Montana twice,
went to Ecuador, went to New York, went to Atlanta (Be The Change), ate with
the 9/11 firefighters, saw President and Rosalyn Carter speak, heard
representative John Lewis speak, met Howard Bogguss, visited Valley of the
Chiefs and the Anzick archaeological site.
I’ve seen my grandson born, loved a little boy fiercely (Kyle), and had
a happy marriage. I’ve gotten Psycards
back, had my book published after 23 years, and learned to channel. An amazing thirteen years and most of it were
goals I set out to accomplish.
And I
have had anxiety attacks all along the way.
Most of which seemingly had nothing to do with me.
Clues for interpretation:
- ·
“Raging rivers, rapids, and lakes without
borders often reflect being out of control of one's circumstances.” –Dream Dictionary
(online)
-
- ·
“To dream of flood means an overflowing of
information or insights or losing oneself... more of something than you are
able to control.” –Experience Project
-
- It is also possible that it is no “coincidence”
that we have come to a flood-ravaged disaster area—is it also possible that in
the greater scheme of things, this physical experience is also a metaphor for
my inner feelings?
-
- ·
“If you dream about a flood, more
likely than not you have recently felt overwhelmed in your life by something
(or someone) that seemed like an uncontrollable force – one which left you
feeling somewhat helpless, at their mercy, and victimized. If you feel relief during the dream,
it could mean that you have bottled-up (or “dammed up”) emotions that you want
to release. Your subconscious mind is letting you know what a
relief it will be when you release these emotions and sort of let the flood gates open!” –dreamprophecy.com
It is true that this big a change feels overwhelming, especially when I put so much pressure on myself to be successful. I think I will spend the next few days resting, meditating, and putting together all the pix and experiences of the trip from Illinois to Loveland, Colorado.
