18 July 2007

Restful Ruin

Last night I dreamed I was driving a dark green hummer-type vehicle. There were two female passengers. We were a block from our destination; I had only to make one more left turn. I was making a lighthearted comment as I pulled into the turn. The vehicle leaned to the right, fell on its side and flipped.

My passengers escaped unscathed. I was trapped, face down, beneath the vehicle. The ground felt warm and welcoming under me. The weight of the vehicle on my back was a comfort. I closed my eyes and hummed, almost purred. I could hear my passengers, frantic and worried and scrambling to find help for me. I knew that eventually I would be rescued but I hoped it would not come too soon. I'd found a sweet, private resting place and was in no hurry to leave.


Don't offer me Hope. Don't ask me to give you Hope. Hope is a distraction. Hoping exhausts me. I want to do what I do not hoping that it will make anything better but believing that it is the right thing to do.

1 comment:

  1. ". . .When water gets trapped in habitual whirlpools, dig a way out through the bottom to the ocean. There lies a secret medicine given only to those who hurt so hard they can't hope. If the hopers knew, they feel slighted . . ."

    Perhaps my all time favorite lines from Rumi!

    If this was my dream, I'd feel cared for, deeply affirmed, and somewhat fearless having rest once again amongst the ruins.


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