Brave Enough To Be Bliss

30 years ago, I married a man I wanted to be my lover. I just didn’t know how to be that vulnerable yet. 30 years ago, I married a man I wanted to dream with. I just didn’t know how to dream yet. 30 years ago, I married a man I wanted to feel safe with. I just didn’t feel safe with myself yet. 30 years ago, I married a man I wanted to let love me. I just didn’t know how to trust anyone yet. 30 years ago, I married a man I wanted to love well. I just didn’t know how to love any man well yet. 30 years ago, I married a man I wanted to grow old with. I just didn’t know how to grow at all yet.

I wasn’t quite sure how to feel about all of those words yet, so I decided to just go back to sleep for a few hours and when I woke back up, I immediately wrote this…

In my dream there is the sweetest little boy. His dad is my friend and he and his wife are not happy.

The little boy is the absolute sweetest little boy I’ve ever seen. He adores me and wraps his arms around my neck and holds me so tightly. He wants to be with me and never wants me to leave. He wants me to stay beside him and keep him safe and warm. He’s j ust darling and he loves me so much. I tell his dad, just ask your wife softly, what happened to her. Be gentle, loving in your voice with her never getting impatient or irritated if she doesn’t speak. Just let there be silence. As she stands there looking at her wedding veil, gently tossing it so it flows in the air, she remembers. She wants to talk, but she can’t. It’s as though the air is taken from her lungs, and she cannot speak. I tell him, just ask her again, “What happened to you?” emphasizing the “happened to you.” “What happened to you to make you so cold, unloving, bitter?” But make sure you say it softly, lovingly, like you really care and want to know. And don’t be shocked or horrified at anything she is go ing to say to you. Just listen. Let tears come to your eyes but don’t break down because she needs you to be strong for her like she always had to be strong for everyone else. She may not say it this time, but someday she will. Be ready when she does. She needs you. After setting my phone down and resting my head back on the pillow, I understood. I knew the little boy was there to talk with my little girl inside and immediately I began weeping. I realized it was time to remember, but I was scared and started to panic. And then I remembered how sweet the little boy was and knew that he would hold her and keep her safe, so I started to breathe again. And I knew my friend wa s speaking with adult me. It’s brilliant, really, ingenious. My brain was coaching itself to figure this out in a safe way where they both would have what they need to survive remembering and then I can figure the rest out with Ginger. I don’t know when it will happen, I only know it will happen when I can handle it and that the little boy and the friend in my dreams will make it ok and I will be safe. And with that, I picked up my phone and opened Facebook to the post below. After reading it, I thought maybe that’s the disconnect. The breathing. If I could really fully breathe, maybe I could feel His presence more often and if I could feel His presence more often, maybe I could feel His love more deeply. Breathing is something I had always tried to control, at least to the degree I could . It’s an uncontrollable function of our bodies and yet I have always tried to control it. I tried to limit it, barely breathing, as quietly as possible because maybe if I could stop it, I would disappear. I wouldn’t be able to be found. I would just go away, and no one could hurt me. “There was a moment when Moses had the nerve to ask God what his name is. God was gracious enough to answer, and the name he gave is recorded in the original Hebrew as YHWH. Over time we’ve arbitrarily added an “a” and an “e” in there to get YaHWeH, presumably because we have a preference for vowels. But scholars and Rabbis have noted that the letters YHWH represent breathing sounds, or aspirated consonants. When pronounced without intervening vowels, it actually sounds like breathing. Another epiphany?

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