I had a dream last night about the death of my mother.*
I wasn’t sad…but it was after the funeral, and this older woman approached me to ask what I had been working on this past year.
Her face was lined and solemn – I didn’t recognize her as anyone I’d ever met before, even though there seemed something about her that was vaguely familiar.
I didn’t know why she was there. My mother didn’t have too many friends.
And yet, this older woman was giving me this incredibly powerful vibe, and so, inwardly, I was trying to think of who she might have been.
She seemed to know my mother, but I got the impression that she may have known my mother long before she’d had children, as she asked me the names and ages of my siblings and what my father’s name had been.
It occurred to me that she had – perhaps – been a childhood friend or a high school friend, and maybe they had lost touch?
I don’t know why it had become so important to me to pinpoint who she was, but it was.
It was quite a puzzle.
As for her work question, I thoughtlessly blurted out that I had been working on seidhr.
While this was essentially true, I still felt uncomfortable as I launched into an explanation of seidhr.
But much to my surprise, the woman shushed me…and with glittering eyes full of mischief, informed me that she knew what seidhr was; there was no need for me to explain.
And then she asked me why I had stopped writing, and again, I was taken aback, as again, I didn’t know how to respond.
I wanted to disagree with her – of course, I hadn’t stopped writing. Why was she asking me that?
Somehow this question offended me, and I felt irritation rising up inside me.
Unruffled, she continued, Why are you so irritable? After all, it is your birthright.
And suddenly it occurred to me that the last 8 months have passed very quickly – more swiftly than I ever could have imagined – and yet, how much things have changed in my practice. There was so much that I had stopped being afraid of doing and talking about – and yet the answer that the Universe has provided seems to be that my most important jobs involve concepts that I cannot speak of, let alone write posts about.
And yet, it would seem that I have reached another roadblock.
You know how it has been said, how you know that you are on the right path when suddenly things seamlessly fall into place, and situations develop/progress so quickly that one can’t seem to keep up with the change?
Well, while things definitely seem to be on that level of progression, when I stop and think about it, everything seems to have hinged upon that Arizona ritual somehow.
But honestly, I have been having trouble writing about that ritual.
And yet, there I was being asked about the reasons why by a stranger at my mother’s funeral….and I realize that I have absolutely no excuse not to write about it.
Except that one. That reason – which is the same old reason that always was:
I can’t rely on others to validate the work that I am doing.
The deeper I get into the work, the less I can relate the particulars of that work to others – and therefore, the less I feel that I can relate to others.
And that makes me feel very lonely at times.
*As you may recall, my mother is still alive; however we have been estranged for the past ten years.