Last week I had one of the hardest dreams I have had in a very long time. The feelings were excruciating, horrifying really, and incredibly real. At the start, I was probably around age 14, confiding in a therapist. Although I am terrified to, I reveal to him that I can see spirit right in front of me. I immediately find myself inside of a small room, and feel that I am in a mental institution. All of my perception is profoundly altered. I am aware that I am taking the drug Haldol, a powerful anti-psychotic medication normally given to people with profound symptoms of Schizophrenia.
Before we got engaged, I was pressuring Jordan to do it. I was 27, convinced that if marriage was not in our future, then there was no point in continuing. What I didn’t realize was what I really wanted to know…
My choice is that the reality is love. What is real, is love. What is an illusion, is the absence of it. What is true, is that there is love. What is a lie, is that there is none.
And let me be clear—I am not talking about mamsy-pambsy feel good love like everything is all good so don’t worry about it. I’m talking about the stark, irrational, deeply honest love that is unconditional.
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A thought that has often haunted me is some combination of “you are a failure”, “you are failing”, or “you are not reaching your potential”. When these thoughts drift into my mind, they feel like ironclad truth, and they drown out any other thoughts that want space inside my head.
Truth is not a solid line, it is a glittering diamond whose glory can shine differently inside of each persons eye. Dreams remind us that this diamond is inside, that there is a real us down there, and it glitters in the light and spins inside our stomachs and it urges and it yearns and it loves and it creates and it learns and it grows and it heals, and that this is the part of us that is alive.