A dream of my son

Many years ago when my son was 9 years old I had a dream that I have never forgotten. He was talking to someone about me and told them his mother was beautiful and still a teenager. (My son has been more or less non verbal since birth.) I was so excited (within the dream) about this that I started telling a group of people that my son had actually talked to me! I told them ‘it was real, it wasn’t a dream, I’d know if it was a dream’ Then a powerful wind started to blow me off my chair and I held onto a person next to me as the energy swept me almost completely into the air. At this point I woke up to the sensation of energy pouring down my head and arms like water. I had been attuned to reiki a couple of years earlier and believed that was what it was.

I’ve had many amazing dreams in my life but this one really stands out. I’ve never had one like it before or since. My son has never talked and most likely never will, beyond a few words. I’ve grieved a true connection with him my entire life. Around the time when he was 9 years old, I was profoundly depressed, so some may say the dream was wish fulfilment, something I desperately wanted so I concocted in my mind in the form of a dream. But I knew it wasn’t. There was something sublime about it, reinforced by Divine energy surrounding me both in the dream and on waking. I think it was showing me that this life has a purpose, as painful as the situation is.

I wasn’t a teenager when I had my son, never mind when he was 9! But I think the dream meant that developmentally I was still learning, still growing, still evolving. I was a soul on a journey and I was nowhere near maturity, but I was developing in my own time and way. It’s interesting that my dream refers to the notion of dreams and reality – what are they? I remember feeling so strange in the dream as the energy began to lift me up, as if it none of it was real – but what? Did I mean my dream reality or the waking world? Is there even a distinction? I said ‘I don’t feel real’ right before I re-joined the world of the awake – did I simply know I was dreaming, or did it point to something more profound: that none of this is real but the expression of Divine energy? Even my son talking in the dream may not have been real but another expression of the energy manifesting in a form I wished to see, needed to see. In that sense, maybe it actually was wish-fulfilment, but for a deeper purpose; to enable me to remember what life really is and connect with it, allow myself to immerse in it, know myself as it.

As I look about me, I am often filled with such intense grief that I have not had the opportunity to connect with my child in the way I always wished, and now, at age 43 with a chronic illness, the odds are that I never will. It is easy for another to say ‘make the best of life as it is’ but far harder to do, especially when I have craved connection all my life. In some respects I don’t even want another child, I don’t have the energy for it anymore, but I wish life had been different. Sometimes this wish consumes me. I will never be a grandmother, nor get to share memories with my son, look at photographs. Little things like that hurt massively.

It is a complicated grief because my son hasn’t left this Earth, he is very much alive. Yet I still feel the loss of him immensely. I feel the loss of everything we didn’t have and never will. I miss what could have been. What does one even do with this? It’s not something that goes away. So I remember the dream that brought me some level of comfort. Hearing him talk within it is something I can never forget. I am so grateful for that. And he acknowledged me; he said I was beautiful. That touches my heart. I doubt I will have another dream like it but I pray it stays with me and I will understand it’s true meaning for my life.

Where the light gets in

I had a very profound thought during the night. I know I’ve read it somewhere but I can’t think where.

A couple of days ago I was telling someone how it went with my son on Thursday and I made the very sad but nonetheless true statement that ‘my heart will always be broken.’

Even as I said it, I sensed the truth; the immense power in those six words.

I was reflecting on this during the night and almost immediately another thought came to me, almost from outside myself, carrying the wisdom and grace of a deeper realisation:

‘This is where the light gets in.’

Suddenly the balance shifted from despondency to hope. I had a wonderful visual image of God’s divine grace surrounding the broken pieces of my heart like a pure golden light, filling in all the cracks and making it stronger and more beautiful than ever.

There is always a choice. Closing down to protect a broken heart seems the best option, but it leaves one cut off, alone and in darkness, where healing is impossible.

Jesus healed people. He restored them through their own faith. At least once he asked the person if they wanted to be healed. I don’t believe that he was suggesting they didn’t or stating the obvious; rather, he was inviting them to open their heart and accept what is possible through faith. Literal or metaphoric, the healing he brought upon others was only made possible through an open heart, which is the ultimate gift of love.

It’s all too easy to protect one’s heart from further pain and become hurt and bitter. This is the challenge of being human, especially in regard to deep traumas that laid the entire foundation of a life. Each of us has our own path to walk and obstacles to navigate, as well as the particular tools to help us through. Thankfully for us, there are so many teachers, past and present, who have pointed to the truth that we all carry within.

And what is this truth? In my experience, we exist in Divine love. We are eternal beings, filled with the grace of God/Spirit/The Divine, here living a very limited human life in all its glory and tragedy. The heart is the bridge between the two. When we keep it open, the love and light of God’s grace is always available to love and heal and restore us no matter how broken we feel.

Growing and transcending

I’m aware that each time I write a truly vulnerable account of how I’m feeling about my disabled son I probably lose a few readers – understandably so because not everyone wants to read about someone’s suffering, especially those seeking a more uplifting story – so I’m drawn to say thank you to those who are drawn to read my experiences and feelings, regardless of reason. Sometimes I feel very alone and it helps to write it down and know people are reading my words, even when I am going around in circles with the same feelings and issues, or at least seem to be. I really do appreciate it.

I know in my heart that each of us is on a spiritual journey to realising our true self – our Christ self, Divine indwelling, soul – whichever term you feel most comfortable with -and we can’t drop off the path no matter what we do or feel. Sometimes life can feel completely unbearable and I think it is important to be honest about the suffering because it is the freedom of speaking the truth that ultimately saves us. As Carl Jung (I think) said, ‘suffering can’t always be worked through, only transcended.’ I cannot escape my pain. It just is. It exists in a state of consciousness that is fully human and I love and respect it. It will never leave me for it is part of me. But it is not ALL of me. And therein lies the answer.

I think it was Mother Teresa who said ‘when you know better, do better.’ We experience life in accordance with our level of consciousness, so once we grow spiritually, we experience life, and God/the Divine, from a higher state of awareness. However, growth is not a linear process, as I know all too well. I have meditated and prayed for years and feel I have a healthy relationship with my spirituality and the Divine. I am always growing and evolving and increasing my capacity for unconditional love. The difficulty is when old wounds get activated, or, as Eckhart Tolle says, the pain body, and once again I am lost in the pain of wanting what can never be. The pain body is the emotional element of the conditioned self – who we believe ourselves to be in relation to the outer world. Some people call this the ego, and indeed I have done sometimes, but I dislike the term, maybe because it reduces it to an unpleasant sounding entity rather than being part of my being which evolved to try and help me live in this world, however misguided it has been. It also seems to suggest that my emotions are ‘wrong’ on some level. My emotions over my son and wishing things were different are not ‘wrong’; they simply are. I can’t imagine anyone in my situation not feeling this way; at least, not without a huge and permanent shift in consciousness to the extent that one’s personal history just doesn’t matter any more because one abides purely in a state of love. This ideal was perfectly executed in the story of Jesus.

Regardless of what I, or anyone else, think about the whole mystery of Jesus, whether he was real, a myth, whether he was the only ‘son of God’ or pointing to the potential that exists in all of us, it highlights that Jesus was both fully human AND fully Divine. He often referred to himself as the ‘Son of Man’ i.e son of humanity, rather than God! He fully embraced his emotions, his humanness, his fear, anger, reluctance, sense of abandonment etc. He befriended the hurting, lost and broken people. He must have felt terribly alone in a world that wasn’t ready for him and did not understand him. He suffered unimaginably horribly in the hands of others, feeling betrayed and alone, all the while trusting in God’s plan for his life.

The most important part of the entire story: Jesus was not left to die; he was resurrected into his Christ self which transcended all his pain and suffering and restored him to his Divine identity. His old self had to die for the new self to be born. Whatever one believes about this, there is a lesson in letting go and having faith, that our suffering does not have to define us, even if it is part of us for a time (even a long time; indeed, some of us live with deep hurts our entire lives and only find relief on physical death). The story of Jesus has always brought me comfort because this is a man who went through the worst torture that I imagine is possible to man, all the while feeling abandoned by God, yet loving and forgiving those who inflicted such suffering on him, who then transcended it all; a personal reminder of the renewal of all life and our own eternal nature.

When I feel crucified by my personal circumstances and unable to find relief in any of my life’s blessings due to feeling consumed by wishing things had turned out differently, I remember that fighting against my suffering will not work. My suffering results from a part of me who understandably feels devastated and angry and let down by life. I also know that I carry within me some part of the Christ mystery – my Divine spark – which both encompasses and transcends this human life. It is a daily juggle, holding those aspects of my being, but maybe knowing they are there and perfectly okay, is enough.

Silver linings

It’s been a very painful few weeks but I am very grateful for the silver linings that have emerged as a result of my son’s hospitalisation. Whilst it’s been very far from ideal, my son has been calmer than he has in a while, a combination of the right medication plus 24/7 carers who he responds well to and a room and bathroom of his own (albeit off a busy ward). I am also grateful for all the professionals who have worked so hard to find a better solution for my lovely boy while not dehumanising him for the difficulties he has that led to being in hospital in the first place. He has a new placement in the autumn but it’s still a building site, so we have to wait. In the meantime he has a temporary arrangement in his previous home with the support of 24/7 carers. He should be discharged early next week.

Other relatives sadly chose not to visit, which meant me going every other day to do his washing and bring him food (he was not eating any of the hospital food). I wish others had shown their presence to my son, but I am grateful for the opportunity to really be a mother to him for the first time in many years, probably since my health forced me to give him to his father full time. My visits were positive. We bonded for the first time in a few years. He was pleased to see me and at one point lay his legs across my lap. I can’t put in words how much this all means. It has helped heal my fragile heart from all the pain of parenting, the loss and struggle of bringing him up, the feelings of disconnection that arose from only seeing him once a week and having to get past the obstacles of his dad and grandmother who often made it hard for me to visit. Moreover, it was a relief after the pain of visiting him in the assisted living accommodation where he wanted me to leave as soon as I arrived. Now I know this wasn’t personal but a reaction to his frustration and pain at living in an environment which felt out of control and that he couldn’t cope with.

I am so grateful to God/the Divine for all these silver linings in such an awful situation. I just hope and pray that my son’s discharge goes well and he thrives during the temporary placement and when he goes to the new one in the autumn.

Sacred beauty of Oludeniz, Turkey

In the midst of everything recently I managed to get away to Turkey for a few days. It was the first trip abroad in 8 years and I found myself awed by the beauty of the landscape. It really was stunning. And hot! Most days were over 30 degrees, with the exception of the final day which was 29. I spent most of my days reading on the beach and by the hotel pool.. I also found joy in exploring the local shops which were full of quirky handmade gifts, many from the Hindu tradition. The art and culture reflected the sacred beauty in everything around me and reminded me that it does not matter what name we give God or which tradition we follow – the Divine is life itself in all its creative forms.

My suffering and the story of Jesus

The story of Jesus reminds me that suffering doesn’t have to separate us from God or mean that we have failed, it brings God to us, right here, right now, suffering with us and for us and AS us.

I haven’t posted for some weeks because I’ve had so much going on, some good, some bad, mainly bad. I went abroad for a few days to Turkey, something I’d wanted to do in many years but been too unwell. It wasn’t easy but with special assistance booked and a mobility scooter hired I managed it and feel very happy that I did.

Unfortunately, I knew in advance it was a risky time to go away with everything going on with my son but it was booked ages ago and the only time my friend and her family could make it, so I took the chance. The last night there I heard that my son had been hospitalised due to unmanageable behaviour and his grandmother was no longer capable of having him. The previous assisted living staff did all they could but are no longer involved. My son remains in hospital. There is now a new care agency supporting him there, but no accommodation for him to be moved into. There is no medical need for him to be in hospital and no clinical need for mental health sectioning. Whilst the professionals involved are trying hard to find accommodation, there is nothing.

I can’t put into words the pain of thinking of my son in hospital and exactly what happened when he got there. Sometimes pain is beyond anything I could say. All I can do is have faith that something will work out for him. He DOES have a placement to go to in the autumn but it’s currently a building site and won’t be ready until September at least. This is something to be thankful for despite the wait. The problem is finding somewhere for him in the meantime.

For a lot of my life I’ve believed that suffering separates us from God/The Divine – that if I’m experiencing ‘negative’ emotions, something is wrong and I’m not feeling God’s peace. It is true that when we become still, we feel the peace that passes understanding – that goes beyond the mind. We leave behind our troublesome thoughts and experience what is always present. But God is there in the suffering too. Regardless of what one believes about the story of Jesus – fact, fiction or myth – its point is that God isn’t apart from this world, he entered into it willingly, showing us that through his creation we are all part of him and never alone.

The symbolism of the cross and the entire crucifixion is the state of being crucified between Heaven and Earth – not fully human or Divine, but a bit of both – and existing in that space, neither here nor there. It’s a tough place to be once one fully realises it. I feel lost in this world, devastated by my suffering, my son’s suffering – neither of us belonging here or anywhere; myself longing for my spiritual home to the point nothing motivates me here but the need to become fully immersed in God. This is why the religion of my childhood – Christianity – draws me in – its a faith of love and suffering and promise of resurrection – what some may call a new state of consciousness, a living with Christ, in whatever form that takes.

I’m holding onto that faith. Right now it’s all I can do.

Last night’s dream: A UFO, rainbow colours, water pipes and a lake

Last night’s dream was the most fascinating in quite a while. I was in some sort of building looking out of the window at a wood. Somehow I knew there was a lake beyond but I was scared of it. There was a room to my right containing a large amount of water pipes. I was absolutely terrified of these pipes and didn’t want the door open at all. I asked someone if the pipes would open out into the lake. I was told they probably would. Then it started to rain heavily and I knew the rain and the lake were the same. It was extremely dark. The ceiling began to leak and I looked for a cup to catch the water before realising I’d need something bigger. Then water began to pour down the walls. I looked out of the window only to see a beautiful rainbow. It got closer and I realised it was the shape of a saucer…it was a UFO! I whipped out my phone and started to video it. My mother (I think) walked towards it and I was scared she would be abducted, but soon after she came back and the UFO started to retreat. I videoed the beautiful rainbow moving further away. Then I saw the spirit of a white dog. After this I woke up.

The feelings that overrode this dream were the polar opposites: fear and love. I was scared of the lake and, most of all, the pipes. I do have a fear of water pipes in IRL but nothing like as exaggerated as it was in the dream. I think my fear here works on two levels; psychological and spiritual. I’m feeling emotional overwhelm due to the situation with my son, represented by the water pouring through the ceiling and walls and the sinister pipes, but I’m also scared of my spiritual power and the incredible energy being channelled through me which is represented by the pipes and the lake of my subconscious mind. The rain is deeply cleansing on all levels and as the source of life represents eternity itself.

I’ve been doing a lot of contemplative meditation lately and am aware that the Divine is only found in the moment, in the midst of suffering, not in some far away land when suffering is no more (as much as I wish for that). In meditation, I am often aware of a lot of energy. I can’t explain or label it but it’s there nonetheless. It’s a comforting feeling but also very powerful and disconcerting. I know I can tap into it and the effects would be massive, as indeed it has been in the past after a lot of meditation. I think the pipes behind the door are all the energy I’m keeping in view but scared to fully look at due to what they may unleash from my subconscious. I’m scared of my own power which is always available to me through my connection with the Divine in the moment. The dog may represent the underworld, reinforcing this primal connection to All That Is.

The UFO is even more interesting. Carl Jung believed it was a religious symbol, indicating attainment. Other interpretations suggest a symbol of the universe or the higher self. All of these ideas could be applied here and the beautiful colours suggest spiritual energy is surrounding me and available to me to tap into. And of course all the symbolism of a rainbow can come into play here – hope, transformation, God’s promise after the flood. It’s funny how I videoed it on my phone – I didn’t stay fully present to it, but wanted to hold onto it, place technology between myself and it. That shows some resistance as much as longing, which is part of the theme of being afraid of the power available to me. And of course my mother – or my higher self – wasn’t ‘abducted’ by the UFO; there was a short visit and the UFO went away. I won’t take on more than I am ready to.

I woke up feeling happy and awed. It’s a dream that was full of atmosphere and will stay with me as a comfort as I plough through these tough times.

The peace that passes all understanding

If ‘God’ doesn’t feel a good fit it can be omitted or replaced with ‘the Divine’ or ‘Spirit’ or ‘meditation’ or even ‘Self’ because the word doesn’t really matter, it’s only semantics; what matters is the state of peace that the words are pointing towards. It’s a experience of peace so profound and pure that no life circumstance, situation or event can pull you from it. There’s only pure eternal Being.

For someone like me who thinks too much, I easily lose myself in mind. I want to work it all out. I want to figure out what I’m going to do, how I’m going to do it, and when. That’s all useful….up to a point. I also need to let things go and rest in the peace of the moment where my thoughts cannot reside. I need to surrender to and rest in God who is beyond mind. In doing so, I can allow my thoughts to calm and my natural inner beauty to shine like a flower in perfect harmony with all that is.

A dream of numbers, speech therapy and Buddhism

Numbers were the main theme of last night’s dream and hugely symbolic. I dreamed that I visited a speech therapist at a place many miles from here. It was such a long way that I’d gone on the sleeper train but I was completely drawn to seeing this speech therapist. She recommended that I see her every week and drew up a price plan. Each week would cost £100 with the total amount I’d have to spend being £969. As I looked at these figures my heart sank. I realised that the cost – combined with the time and energy spent travelling up on the sleeper train each time – would be massive and I wasn’t sure I could commit. By the same token, I felt the speech therapist could really help. The dream ended before a decision was made one way or the other.

This dream relates strongly to a book I was reading yesterday by a spiritual teacher called Adyashanti on the subject of thoughts/ thinking and how our minds create suffering. The mind is a tool, to be used lightly in the dance of life, not something to get attached to or identify with or else suffering ensures. I was thinking (ironically) about this a lot yesterday and can understand the truth in it, but I also think it’s necessary to develop a healthy ego before it’s possible to understand and utilise this spiritual truth. In this way I totally agree with Carl Jung who stated: “The first half of life is devoted to forming a healthy ego, the second half is going inward and letting go of it.” If one has not developed a healthy ego, such as in the case of trauma, it’s probably not going to be possible to let go of identification with the mind or else risk major disintegration and psychosis. We are Divine AND human. We need to tell our stories until we don’t need them anymore. Until they are no longer freeing us but entrapping us. Forming a healthy ego is all part of the journey. I don’t see the ego is a bad thing – albeit it has its shadow side, like most things- but an inevitable part of the human experience until we wake from the dream. But as Adyashanti says, it’s all thoughts and opinions and these are mine.

Last night’s dream was, therefore, a representation of all those thoughts. I believe the number 100 is symbolic of the individual self within the whole/Oneness – not rejecting the healthy ego but embracing it as part of everything. I arrived on the sleeper train, meaning that until seeing the therapist I had been asleep, lost in ego. The number 969 is very interesting. I didn’t realise this until I looked it up but it represents the three virtues of the Buddha, with the first 9 symbolising the Buddha himself, the 6 represents his teachings, and the 9 represents the Sangha, or community. It’s actually called the 969 Movement (found on wikipedia). The speech therapist probably symbolises the expression of mind as n awakened tool – how do I communicate with myself and others? How do I use my mind in the right way? In Buddhist terms this is right speech/right action which points to the state of peace where we no longer attach to our thoughts but live more fully in the present moment. It means our suffering is minimalised as we are no longer investing in a sense of a personal ‘me’ which is separated from life, or focusing on what happened in the past or what will happen in the future. Instead, we live a more peaceful, embodied, simple, awakened existence.

My dream is really highlighting the difficulty of this choice. Do I want to truly awaken or stay asleep? Can I maintain this level of awareness without being sucked into identification with my mind? How much should I invest in the personal me? Maybe none of these questions really matter. What matters is being aware moment by moment of my thoughts and feelings and knowing the point of power is always now.

The Divine within

My life has been far from easy. But I’ve never felt truly alone, not even during the isolation of my childhood, and then, into adulthood when my health deteriorated dramatically and my son was diagnosed with severe autism, I felt more and more that life was pushing me to realise something that was lurking in the depths of my unconscious: I am part of the Divine. I am Life itself. I am not the fragmented, unworthy, rejected, broken human being that those around me led me to believe over and over again.

As a child I felt I had the potential to be something great, whether it was an actress, journalist, writer, it didn’t matter. I just knew with a untarnished certainty that my destiny was something special. I knew it despite the pain of my external environment. I wrote it into stories, poems, prayers. Many times as an adult I lamented over those young dreams, thinking how silly they were, how crazy I was to believe I could ever be somebody in this world. When I got sick and my life closed in around me as I entered survival mode trying to cope with my severely disabled son, I despaired at ever believing it. Instead I was totally ruined. I couldn’t even manage parenthood. My son was out of control. I was so unwell that I couldn’t walk up the stairs. I fell into such a deep depression that I don’t know how I ever found my way out.

But here’s the thing: life never gave up on me. That Divine spark kept the truth safe like a precious jewel, knowing that the time would come when I could allow myself to remember and allow it to shine. Even when I was engaging in self-destructive thoughts and activities, which has been often, it’s been there, gently pushing me to realise what I always knew. It wouldn’t let me go. Even when I actively wanted it to go away, preferring to close my eyes and sleep my way through existence as it felt the safest, easiest option, it wouldn’t. It acted like a nagging parent, constantly saying ‘you know you are more. You know.’

And I do know. I’ve known it logically for a long time. Allowing the truth into my heart has been a harder process. It takes acceptance and surrender, both of which aren’t easy when it involves facing grief over what life could have been, indeed should have been (according to my ego). It’s keeping my heart open to not only my own truth, but that of the Divine in others, ALL others, even my extremely difficult ex who is like my nemesis on this path. None of it is easy. It requires intensive healing work, courage and most of all faith to keep going and surrendering to the Divine force which has always had my back.

The little girl was right. I am destined to be something special – we all are. We already ARE. Our destiny is realising it, or re-realising it, over and over again.