Thank You for Letting Me Dream of You.

Thank you for letting me hold you.

Thank you for letting me nestle my tired head into your warm chest.

Thank you for letting me say, “I’m sorry.” I know we no longer speak and that I thought I had been done with you, but saying these words while my head rested on my pillow helped me to finally say good-bye.

Thank you for letting me be afraid of you. In my dream, you were trying to hurt me. I was so frightened that, when I woke up, I could still feel that sensation within my heart muscle—but it helped me honor my very real fear of your touch.

Thank you for touching me. I miss your hands when our kids need them instead and, in my sleep, I felt your caress like you were really there.

Thank you, yoga practice. In my dream I practiced a pose that I never thought possible and, when I awoke, I attempted it, since the sensations of power and ability were now real in my quaking muscles—and I took flight for the very first time.

Thank you, achievement. I write my words for myself, mainly. They are a place where I can run away from my life, if only temporarily, but when I dreamt that my books had reached millions it felt embarrassingly good.

Thank you, sunlight. I felt you creep into nooks and crannies of my heart that have felt cold and tired lately. And, when the real sun greeted me, your light’s effects were still there, in my soft, beating heart to help me feel gratitude for my new day.

Thank you for letting me dream of you. I’m vulnerable in my dreams. I’m exceedingly powerful in my dreams. I am both strong and capable and weak and humble. Thank you for letting me have, equally, closure and opening and thank you, even more, for giving me awareness, for if I am nothing but enlightened to my deepest, truest self, then I am still a great success.

Photo: Flickr/dreaming of you…

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