I woke up this morning remembering the dream I had during the night without trying to think about it: it came to me from a place in my consciousness of its own accord. It’s short and very clear. I begin where it begins, without preface.
I raised my eyes to look at the sky while walking through a very large expanse of rolling field encircled by forest all around. The horizon in each direction was clear, with no buildings, only nature. It was daytime. I saw a river of what looked like fairly consistently-sized, seemingly shredded cloud puffs making this long line in the sky from the east to the west, which was at a diagonal to my travel as if west was clockface 10PM. I stopped walking and panned my eyes south then north, and saw that this trail was the only one, and that the clouds defining it didn’t appear anywhere else in the sky, which had a dark greyish, oppressive haze beginning at a distance on each side of the trail as if repelled. There were portals like holepunches at each end of this cloud swath so remarkable and I felt a sense of assured finality with resolve, and the sense of fear that felt like a habit disappeared.
Turning to my right, I looked down at the small face with eyes of love I love looking from the sky then toward me, with an instinctive startle as if being woken from sleep to wakefulness. This all happened in simultaneously and bending my knees to be eye level with the child whose small, smooth hand was in mine, I put the relaxed, not gripping trusting hand I was so guarding of, because this was my identity, to protect this child, (although none of those were thoughts, this is the reality of what I felt in the dream) into my left hand as I put my right arm over the small shoulders.
At the same eye level, the eyes that are a part of my soul searching mine, no words yet said, I thought to myself, glancing up at the path of Nibiru and back to the dear face, I felt strong in the gnowledge that because I had no fear, that was already answering the unworded question in the eyes which looked at me asking “What is happening?”
My heart and chest expanded with love and I (without decision, it was natural and part of our close relationship) softly pulled the familiar, extension-of-myself precious child into the contour of my body, now down on one knee, so I could hold [the child] close and they could lean into me and be supported, thinking/feeling this: “how much should I say to explain this without making fear; [the child] doesn’t need to be afraid; [the child] won’t understand, that’s what will scare [the child], confusion from ideas, not comprehending what [the child] already is, words will be confusing”. That thought stream was not even mentally articulated in my mind as thoughts, and this was really just the love I felt for [the child] and [the child] for me, it was one with who we were, and then I was remembering the dream.
Was I Gramma or Mom, and was this my children and my grandchildren as one in heart?
Re: “[the child]” In the dream there was no definition of girl or boy, just child of my body and lineage who I loved as life itself
May 10, 2020
(Typing the date, I just realized it’s Mother’s Day.)