I can't remember any real dreams, only details, I can fly, I am flexible, I am living in the woods, I am not afraid. I awoke feeling deeply peaceful and rested and content. I was repeating to myself, "almost, nothing, almost, nothing, almost, nothing...........". Almost is so similar to nothing...almost reaching the top is not reaching it...almost waking up is still sleeping...almost seeing is still not seeing...I felt recharged by this idea of almost, nothing. The message? Keep going, even in the darkest hour, even when slumber beckons with all its might, even when the mind lulls toward complacency- with love and gentleness and kindness- keep going...almost reaching the aim isn't what I choose...I can just keep reaching toward the good, the wise, the true...keep reaching until at last my hand finds a hold and my foot discovers solid ground.
listen
My teacher is seated at a round table in a kitchen that seems enclosed but really extends into the world beyond where there are trees and also a small dirt path Winding to the left with a young girl walking on it. I am on the phone with my mom. I seem to be so preoccupied with a very superficial conversation that I am ignoring my teacher's presence. I am almost "acting" the part of a conversation, laughing loudly and appearing very interested in the nonsense I am talking about. When I hang up the phone I apologize for not noticing that she was waiting for me. The apology is too profuse, almost put on and overdone. My teacher says nothing but begins opening a white bag in which are small objects wrapped in white tissue. I am so preoccupied with my apology (which even to me sounds disingenuous) that I never see any of these gifts unwrapped. My teacher doesn't leave. She sits at the table. She isn't impatient nor irritated but I think ...
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