A Lesson in Gratitude

I woke up at 5:30 this morning, and drifted back to sleep around 6.

I know I have drifted into a mini dream. In it, a camcorder from the nineties is hanging in the corner of the room and I instantly begin my obnoxious chimpanzee personality by yelling at it. Saying creepy things, daring it to come and get me because I will slam it if it does. I become aware within moments that this is not who I want to be, and not the way I want to spend this experience. The camcorder comes closer to me and I switch to my normal self. I say "It's okay, you can come and do whatever it is you are planning to do to me. I am not afraid." So it gets closer and closer, until it explodes into separate parts and the pieces tumble into me, but I don't feel a thing except the joy of surrender.

Suddenly I am vibrating in my body ready to project. I instantly propel into a black space and a greenish yellow light in the shape of an upside down trapezoid appears before me and I know it is a representation of my guide. I am so thrilled to see it. My heart is singing and I am sending out messages of joy and love and gratitude for its appearance. I follow it deeper into this empty realm. It feels like we are playing a game of tag and I am it. It is playful. But eventually the light escapes my vision and is gone. I am left with a sadness, but I know a lesson is next.

I walk down the stairs knowing I am to see my mother. I am calling to her like a child. When I arrive downstairs I see her sitting at a small table with children. She is a teacher. Her face keeps getting hidden by random things, but when I finally get a peek I see her striking youthful beauty. She looks how she did when I was their age. How I remember her as a child.

I come to her and interrupt her conversation, telling her it's important. I just want her to know that I am so grateful for her. I am grateful for all she has done for me as my mother. I get a feeling I have passed some kind of test and wake up.