The other day while working at the store, I had a unique and wonderful experience. To most this moment in time may have passed unnoticed, but for me it became a photograph in my mind, inspiring me to write about it this morning. After weeks of troubled sleep, fractured, disturbing dreams all unsettling my thoughts, I slept soundly.
When I woke this morning, it was this particular moment in time from the other day which explained my very needed and restful sleep. It is justification of dreams from the past and hopes for the future, yet it was such a simple moment. It seems a reward somehow for the labour of the past few weeks as I begin to unravel the trauma of my adult years.
Have you ever just looked into someone’s eyes and felt calm, peaceful? Even if it only lasts for a moment?
This is what happened to me on this day. A man came into the store, who at first glance appeared to be young, perhaps in his mid to late twenties. His shoulder length dark hair perhaps suggesting this as I watched him come into the store. We said hello to each other and I came to the counter to see what he needed. This was the moment that inspired this post. Normally I am not comfortable looking into the eyes of a stranger right away, so I blame it on his long hair which made me think of my father. He smiled under his mask, which made him suddenly look much older, perhaps in his forties. The lines at his eyes suggesting he was older than I first thought. I am not often comfortable around people, attractive people especially, but somehow this person made me feel safe, my insides were not bouncing around erratically as I spoke. Despite how I may look on the outside, I am very rarely calm on the inside when around anyone, even someone I’ve known for years.
Perhaps because of the internal work done these past weeks, I have developed the ability to have less going on internally matching what is seen on the outside. Or perhaps it was this man, who made me think of my father, the only person I have ever felt such comfort with.
This reminded me of a dream had during those last months in Ecuador. In the dream I was with a man who had shoulder length dark hair, who reminded me of my father. In the dream, I never saw this man’s face completely as I was riding on a horse behind him, my arms around him as we rode in comfortable silence. There is a part of me who has been looking for this man ever since, knowing meeting him may never happen. This morning, I can’t help but wonder, yet there is no expectation. I just feel very comfortable with the thought. Since Patrick left, I have been resolute about not getting in another relationship. I have been content, albeit lonely at times, with being on my own. Accepting possibility can be good for the soul though.
These times when I am reminded of my father seem always to happen when I have doubts about who I am, what I’ve been through. Any time I begin to second guess the reality of my own story, there will be my father reminding me of the truth. He has made it impossible to let go of or pretend this story, our story does not matter. This is why I feel so calm and peaceful this morning, the gentle yet firm reminder from my experience the other day, brought me to a place of surrender during the night as I passed it without torment.
Always when I know someone is reading my story, I begin to wonder how it may seem to them, to experience the many years of such intimate and often disturbing experiences of my life. Without doubt, this causes me to question the validity of my own story, knowing how it must sound to someone who has never experienced such things. Even to just view the stories as dreams, with no connection to the reality of our waking hours, must seem unreal. How many people dream so much, so vividly, so determinedly, without ever understanding why? The books share only about half of the dreams from my journals over the span of 30 years. Many dreams lost because I did not write them down, so they were forgotten. How many dreams did I have as a child? I know I was often afraid to sleep, afraid of what would happen in my dreamtime. There are many days still which make it difficult to close my eyes, uncomfortable with the idea of what I may see.
My father, when he comes to me in this way, always brings me peace and understanding. It was his eyes I looked into yesterday, they did not belong to the young man who stood before me. How incredible to experience this tremendous love and commitment in such a way. It was wonderful to spend this moment with my father, enveloped in the calmness, security and comfort of his love. Tonight as I finish writing this story, I feel so strong within my space here at home. I realize just how important being here on my own has been. To have the opportunity to explore whatever has been necessary to become my true self, the greatest gift received.
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