| | first and hoped for
In my often-recurring dream, I was always being chased by lots of men with big rifles. (I had been reading Carlos Castaneda a lot while awake, so this time I) looked at my hands, and recognized that I was consciously affecting my dream. I popped up from my hiding place behind a boulder to confront the posse, and was promptly shot in the head. I lay there thinking, hmmm, I wonder if I'll wake up dead? Shortly thereafter, I lost my virginity, and never dreamed about being chased by men with guns again.
Lately I've been inviting my mom to visit my dreams; I would like ask her what has been going on for her during her five years of being dead. She does show up a lot, but somehow I always wake up without having gone "live" in these dreams with her. It's nice to see her, but a little frustrating. Writing this down, I can see that perhaps I've been resisting. So I'm giving up my resistance, right here and now, and invite you, Yolanda, to come on over tonight while I'm sleeping and let's have a chat about the afterlife! We'll have Kahlua!