The Dream, The Mask

Photo by Sebastiaan Stam on
Last night, lo and behold, I had a good dream. I hardly ever have good dreams. What was so good about it? It was simply devoid of negativity. There was no shining clouds. There was no bliss coursing through my veins let alone my chakras. Nonetheless, there I am feeling good. I’m on an island. I don’t notice any colors or nature. People are all pretty young including me and it’s busy. Lots of people going about their business. I am surprised of how good I feel. I don’t feel fantastic or anything extreme. I just feel good. And in my world that is pretty fantastic. I’m Asian with blonde hair and Lindy my daughter is holding my hand. We settle in a crowded auditorium and I respond to the announcer. She just is telepathically inquiring into my state of being.  Maybe I am telling her that my mask is slipping…
Since I got Covid on Thanksgiving 2020, a burning numbness has engulfed my feet rising up through my ankles, calves and legs to my coccyx. The burn pricks my cheeks, arms, back and stomach. I have heard that quite a few Long Haul Covid Patients have developed neuropathy. A question comes up?  How much longer can I care for my daughter with Special Needs? 
Decades ago, I attended a New Age Gathering at some hotel in Hollywood or was it Beverly Hills. Shirley Maclaine was hosting the 1987 Harmonic Convergence on August 16th, my birthday so of course I felt compelled to go. We were served lunch with real silver teapots and chef-inspired croissant sandwiches and luscious desserts. I had saved up the $400 although impoverished at the time to attend this event. I just remember at some point we were asked to grab a partner of the opposite sex and sit in meditation across from him or her to see what would come up.  There was some sort of directive or intention we were asked to hold but I can’t remember it:  I close my eyes. I see a dark energy form bleed into a patchwork of iron like energy. It is a face mask that imprisons. This mask is speaking to me, “When you die, it is over. You don’t survive death.” Whatever is speaking is so smug and superior. I open my eyes to find the eyes of my male partner hoping for a connection. I am annoyed when I suddenly realize this mask has been following me around ever since Mom put a pillow over my face when I was 3 and a 1/2 years old. At the end of the event, Shirley played Stevie Winwood’s “Bring me a Higher Love” while a bunch of nymphs including “moi” danced around on her alter of a stage. Pretty soon I was the only one left dancing there and the stage crew was about to turn off the lights. 
The Mask is direct and emotionless.  It just gives you the facts.  This life is all there is.
More on the good dream. I’m young, a new-comer and everyone knows me and is interested in me. I am interested in them. There simply is no negativity. That translates into feeling welcomed and loved without using those phrases that wear out with overuse. For this is the first time in a long time I feel hope.  Before I fell asleep and dreamed the good dream, I read the last line in Robert Schwartz’s book, “Your Soul’s Love”.
Yen: Just take the mask off. It separates you from me.
Me: The Mask of Death is disappearing. For the first time I believe it’s not real. There’s a loving being behind it saying, “You are right. We live forever”.
Then I realize that loving being is me.
Photo by cottonbro on

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