The other night I dreamed – vividly, and was distressed upon waking for I knew not its meaning. And in dreams I put great value, for I believe them to be portals of your life struggles, bearing witness to both losses and gains, acting as a measuring stick that you may gauge where you reside mentally and spiritually on whatever internal chart you have set yourself; a defining map for whether you are living right, living wrong, or not really living at all.
It took me two long days to define the dream, or epiphany of truths about all our paths as I see it now, two long days of much contemplation and soul searching before it dawned on me – and I smiled. For the thoughts twisting through my mind after my lids had closed were not demons come to play havoc, thinking my slumbering self an easy mark; no, instead my ever-mischievous shadowed soul, the one who resides inside, was sharing a story for me to tell.
In my dream I climbed a treacherous trail, in near complete darkness, leading a small band of travelers, including a child by the hand. And what stuck most clearly, was when looking behind, back down the trail that there was not one, two or three paths, but four, which I could have led this little group of mine upon. Except paths one, two and three ended in monstrous webs encompassing their respectful paths entirely with a fat menacing spider residing in the middle of each web, ready to devour, eager to feed. Somehow, some way, the path I chose, the one with clear, safe passage, I navigated surely as if I had known the danger of the other three. Though I had not.
With realization and understanding, I penned the following to represent this awakening, this epiphany of mine:
- The path ahead is dark, tendrils snaking in from all angles; snagging at our clothes, our hair, scratching our skin – we press on.
- Barely discernible is our trail, meandering through vines and round trunks of misshapen trees, twisted perversions of nature, leafless, menacing over our troupe in the shadow of an endless night.
- Yet ever upward we travel, ever upward we struggle, ever upward we fight.
- As me ascend, the obstacles become no less real, yet our footfalls gain strength, our stride gains momentum.
- And though the road in all its treachery seems unending our shoulders do not sag, instead we stand taller, chins up and eyes forward – we press on.
- Looking back, looking behind us the path is clear, the road shown, the trail known, with Light creeping up from below and behind us, as a faithful hound following our steps, trusting in our lead.
- We smile, for now we know; now we see – for we have pressed on.
We found this great blog site about habits that lead to better paths … Zenhabits.net.
What is one of your recent big hairy spider epiphanies?
Article by Chris Frost.