CONTINUED FROM LAST POST-
I've never, as far back as I can remember, been much of a sound sleeper. Not a bad attribute if you suspect your teen is sneaking out at night or sense a roaming / Internet voyeuristic partner. Thank goodness I've not had to worry about those things. Unlike what I've been told regarding the latter, that ALL men have perverse meandering behaviors and if they deny it they are lying, told to me by a male, no less, I stick to my belief that NOT all men participate in those kinds of activities.
When I disclosed this person's absurd expression of his fellow man to my husband his reply to me was, "How sad of a man he must be . He apparently is trying to make himself feel better by trying to condone his own actions and shortcomings by convincing whomever will listen that all men do what he does". Ironically, this man has been a Program Director/Deejay at numerous radio stations and gets paid for talking and dishing out his cockamamie babble. Ah, but please forgive me for my slight digression there.
When my brother died a piece of me died with him. I use to look forward to his call, gazing up at my "Arizona clock" to see what time it was in his neck of the woods.
A few years after his passing I was not in a good place. I found myself in an impetuous relationship I struggled to terminate. Every time I tried pulling away I'd be sucked back in with hollow words, broken promises and crocodile tears.
I'm a fervent believer that your subconscious addresses and reveals messages to you and divulges these admonitions in your dreams, eager to reveal the knowledge you may be suppressing within you. Sadly these exhortations, most of time, disregarded by the majority of people.
Those closest to you, even after they pass, I believe continue to support and help you through difficult situations, coming to you in dreams, if you're open to it.
I've disseminated some of these views in past posts.
The night my brother left his earthly body I was startled awake, my sudden arousal wasn't due to an unusual clatter in the house but rather an uneasy feeling that had overcome me even while in slumber. I sprang to a sitting position in bed and knew immediately something was wrong.
This innate aptitude seldom has been inaccurate over the years, some times it's not been as grim as I've sensed it to be but these glimpses of "intuitions" have always been dependable, purposeful and held merit and it is a constant presence in me.
There was this person I once knew. I had an overwhelming feeling of dread in regards to him. I attempted numerous time to get in touch with him and when I finally heard from him he told me he had been fired from his position at work. It was, in retrospect, one of the better outcomes.
Even after all these years in possessing this ability it still amazes and is, at times, disheartening to me. To be able to connect and sense the innermost feelings of others emotional state can be extremely draining.
Since his death I've had only two dreams where he's (my brother) has visited me in. One I had written about in an earlier version of this blog under another title "Life With Baby Mikki". Below is an insert of the paragraph taken from that post retelling the dream.
The dream unfolds as such:
Standing in the midst of white flowers, remembering thinking they were delicate baby’s breath I see my brother walking toward me and behind him my father. In my father’s arms he’s carrying a small crying infant, but he is smiling at me and I’m aware he’s trying to get across to me everything will be okay. I try to move forward to get closer to them but cannot seem to. In the dream I call out the baby’s name and as the sound of my voice echoes in the stillness of this vast open valley I feel the soft breeze surround me. Its gentleness feels like delicate kisses on my face as it wafts by. I raise and stretch my arms outward toward them trying to embrace her and she stops crying and I fall to my knees knowing she's there but out of my reach.
The other dream, I have never revealed to anyone. The purpose of my closed-lip is due to the meaning I took from it. It occurred at a time I long to wipe from my memory, a period in time I wholly regret. There was no doubt in my mind, in this dream, he (my brother) demonstrated a profound disappointment in me and I've never been able to cast aside his show of indignation and discontent toward me, even though it was only in a dream. I awoke and walked out into the kitchen for a glass of water, on my way back to bed instead of walking down the hallway past the bedrooms, which I usually do so I could peek in on the kids, I walked through the living room instead. A dim light from the house across the street shined through the living room's sheer curtains giving off just enough illumination to see where I was stepping. As I passed that broken "Arizona clock" that hung on my wall I stopped and stood in awe, bewildered at what I was experiencing. The hands fixed on the numbers they had been found on at its demise years earlier, but at that moment a familiar sound rang out I hadn't heard in a very long while and I stood there dumbfounded. It never spoke again after that, it's song once again silent and not long after that it came down off that wall, buried in the discarded pile of broken things. Gone but never forgotten.
