The Internet can be a cruel and unusual abyss of half-cocked opinions and bargain basement analysis, especially when it comes to Black wom...
Palm Reading & Such
Last night I dreamed that I was being attacked. I was waiting for my mother to come pick me up and I was peering out the window at the front of the house to see if she'd arrived yet. It was raining. I saw my mother's car, and her waving me out through the sheets of rain. I went to open the door and found a man, older but not old, saying "Help me..." He was walking in as I was walking out, grabbing for me as he said, "I'll just come in." When I tried to scream out, my voice came through soft and scared. I was calling for my mommy.
This isn’t the first of this type of dream. For years I've had dreams where I'm trying to speak and my mouth is full of some odd, thick, choking substance or my voice simply will not come out as loud as I need it to in order to be heard. I've even dreamed I was speaking, no words coming from my mouth but the words forming above my head. Most often, I'm in need of some kind of rescuing.
I'm a dream person. They always have a specific purpose, whether it's a theme in my life, or what will end up being a future de ja vu moment. I am thankful to be able to move with such signs in my life. I rarely have the experience of walking down a totally wrong path because the arrows are big, neon, and blinking. If I take the wrong path, it's because I'm being hard headed. Rarely do I go the wrong route, I just may get distracted by the interesting characters I meet along the way.
My latest dream was one in a themed series. There's something I clearly need to do for myself to...save my life so to speak. It's not so grim as talking myself down from any proverbial ledges but it's clear that NOW it is my time to take the bull by the horns, wrestle it down to the grown and walk away victorious with his nose ring in hand. O-freakin-LE!! The life planned for me is bigger than the one I've been living and it's disrespectful to those who knew better before I got here. I've been treading lightly so as not to step on toes (if you can believe it) but mine have been stepped on in the process. Nursing wounds has kept me on my knees too long (no pun intended) and it's easier to get stepped over kneeling than standing up.
I clearly have a long way to go, but I'm on my feet and I'll keep my mouth wide til tone and pitch come together and we can all hear the message I've been trying to scream out.
Watch me move.