Some day soon I hope to get up and write immediately after awakening, because I'd love to have more than a vague wash of feeling-color remaining from my dream time. Not that I want to practice Dream Psychology on myself for the readers' dubious entertainment, but that there are such rich images that my sweet brain comes up with when I'm not busy censoring and controlling.
I'm seeing a theme emerge in my life, which is the the awareness of my seemingly endless urge to control: control myself, my long-suffering spouse, other people's behavior, my interior life. It doesn't want to stop. I know perfectly well that such efforts are completely hopeless, and frequently the source of suffering for myself and others, but the grasping goes on.
Just as retirement is bringing me the option of a bit more sleep (and a few more dreams), I sense a faint relaxation -- or at least the prelude to it -- of my grip on the steering wheel of daily life.
My dream for myself is that I learn to open and accept a new way of receiving the grace that is all around, so full of un-forced goodness.
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