I’ve been having some really powerful dreams lately – the kind of dreams that stay with you long after you’ve woken up, the kind of dreams that carry a message with them that you so desperately need to hear (and embody). Those kinds of dreams.
One of them took place on a river. I stood on one side of it, wanting to get to the other side. The current looked pretty still in parts and pretty strong in others. And as I looked across, I felt fear and trepidation. I didn’t know how I could possibly summon the courage to walk across – knowing that I could possibly be pulled into the undertow.
But this river wasn’t feared by everyone. While some of us stood on one shore, looking across at the other – at where we wanted to be – planning our route and wondering if we could summon the courage to cross, others were walking across as though it wasn’t a big deal at all. I even watched (with my eyes half closed and my heart skipping many beats) a mother and her young daughter cross – seeming to expertly navigate their way around the rocks and the current as though they did this every day (which maybe they did). I breathed a sigh of relief when they made it to the other side, just in time to see someone else making their way across…also without any fear. No one was getting pulled away or sucked under by the current. It seemed that the river would calm down just enough for them to cross and then the current would pick up after they had passed. I watched this happen over and over again in awe. Yet still, I wasn’t ready to try it for myself.
I was getting cold and thankfully saw a sign that led to a park ranger’s cabin, which was open to the public. I hoped that I could go there to warm up before crossing the water myself. So I followed the path and went down many flights of stairs, which eventually led me to a rustic cabin that sat underneath the river, halfway between the shores. When I walked in, I was greeted by someone offering me a hot cocoa and a warm spot to sit next to the fireplace. It was cozy and soothing, and I wondered if I would ever want to leave this cocoon that I had found.
The roof was made of glass, and I looked up and watched the fast rapids, the whitecaps, and the current flow over me. I saw the footprints of people walking from shore to shore, but all I wanted to do was stay in the comfort and warmth. Yet, a part of me knew that I was going to have to leave eventually. That it would be my time to cross the river. And, even though I still felt afraid, I also sensed that I would be okay. I sensed that I would be taken care of. And I felt a deep sense of trust start to bubble up to the surface…something that I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Something that I had pushed down when life got hard, when I felt abandoned by the universe, when I felt that I was on my own. And, in that moment, underneath the river, I knew that I had never been alone. And I knew that I would never be alone.
This deep knowing is what’s stayed with me long after I woke up from this dream. And I know that if I ever start to feel spiritually alone in this world again, I can go back to this underwater cabin and remember how amazing it felt to sit by the fireplace and drink my cocoa and feel completely taken care of. Because I always am. We all are. And that feels so comforting to remember. And I know that when I’m ready to cross the river, in whatever form it takes in my waking life, I won’t be doing it on my own. And that feels so good to know.
Hugs and love,
