Last night I dreamt I was on a trek with a group over a rugged landscape, when a band of rebels crossed our paths. Not sure what happened to the rest of my troop, but I tried hiding up against a rock face. Trouble was, I was fully visible through a gap on the side, and the rebels were watching me and quietly laughing. I thought, surely I am dead. I turned to see their women folk, old and young gathered in front of me, dark expressions on their faces. Now they will kill me, I thought and watched as one of the women appeared to reach under her burka for what I assumed was a gun. I even thought I saw a few guns appear....when instead hands came forward, to hold mine, and smiles of understanding broke out. They pointed me on my way and I felt my heart race from terror of death to sudden gratitude as I realized I was given my life and my freedom. Thank-you, Mothers, I said, as we embraced.
I feel like I am on my way to the Olympics in spirit. On my run today, I had this dream image haunting me with its powerful sense of purpose and plan. I am on a rendezvous with Purpose, and it felt just like the dream to set out on my 'trek' and my 8 miles, where I could internalize the struggle for freedom in my every footfall and accomplished mile. I felt placed where I belong. I imagined the crossroads of brother and sisterhoods on many levels meeting and watching the proceedings of 3 dimensional deliberations, set against the backdrop of physical and spiritual merit. I know the emotion will act as a conduit bringing in the sympathetic call of assistance while we attempt nothing less than the transformation of the world.
And I can hardly wait!
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