I Know of Other Ways To Be

Yesterday was a pretty crap day.  My body felt bruised and beat up, I felt like I hadn’t gotten any sleep, I couldn’t get my brain in gear, and anything that could go wrong at work – did go wrong.  (Which has become the new normal at work these last few months).

I feel like how I’d imagine a marathon runner might feel at the last 100 meters of the race.  (I say imagine, because you’ll never catch me running unless it’s to save my life.)  I’m pretty sure that’s the finish line I see up ahead, but I’d be pretty okay with just dropping right where I’m at.  And because I’m not completely sure that really *is* the finish line. . . I may be hallucinating at this point.  I had *thought* I saw the finish line about 50 times before. . . so.

So, I went to bed.  As I settled into bed and dropped off to sleep, my thoughts were along the lines of:

 “Dear God, WTF?  Love, Jenn”

The message I woke up to being repeated in my head was, “I know of other ways to be.”  Which brought with it a lot of other feelings, emotions, memories, etc. to which my response was, “Oh, yeah. . . I do, don’t I?”

My next order of business was to try and record any dreams I could remember in my journal.  My dream memory recall hasn’t been so great the last few months, which is weird since everyone else seems to suddenly be dreaming up a storm.  But I did catch the thread of a dream that seemed kind of important.

I seemed to be in a place I remember living when I was younger, in Germany (Army brat).  There was snow on the ground, and I was on one of the sidewalks by myself.  (Next is the “only in dreams does it make sense” part.)  I had a handful of various buttons.  Really fancy, quality made buttons, but buttons nevertheless.

I had to work at getting them to work correctly.  I had to use a lot of focus, and discipline, and timing.  But when I got them going, I left the reality of that snowy place and was transported to some other reality.  It was like being an observer inside of a movie trailer, complete with a booming commentator voice.  The buttons weren’t buttons now, but planets.  And it was showing a line of planets that were crossing over Mars, and how each one was *just* dusting the surface of Mars.  Most notably was Mercury.

I seemed to be floaty and was watching up close in wide-eyed amazement.  I was so excited, and this was SO interesting.  I was completely enthralled.  And then the commentator said that it may have been possible (as if this was speculation of something that may have happened in the past) that Venus, *gasp*, may have touched the surface of Mars as well.

W   O   W!   O.O

And then suddenly I was back on the snowy sidewalk, picking my buttons from off the ground and cherishing them.

From behind me, came a man and his two boys.  The younger one seemed to be the one, of the three, who also had a handful of buttons.  He just kind of flung them, almost like it was an accident vs. on purpose, but they all started spinning perfectly and so beautifully.  I stood there watching them all spin so strongly, straight, and just. . . PERFECT!  It made me fill up with such happiness!  What a gift and talent he had!

It made me so happy, that I couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off of my face.  It seemed to really upset him that he could do this, like it was some curse.  He was having a bit of a temper tantrum, but it didn’t seem to affect my mood at all.  How could it, look at the incredible beauty that just seemed to fly off from him without even trying.

We both started walking along the sidewalk together.  Me grinning like a cheeseball, and him being all grumpy and melodramatic.  He was saying something about how his parents paid him so MUCH attention, and “Ugh, isn’t that the worst?”  I was still feeling happy and amazed at this boy who had wandered into my world, and was just smiling at him because he was so adorable in his mannerisms.

Then he seemed to pull out of his upset and asked, “What about you?”  I said, “Oh, no my parents weren’t like that at all.”

The snapshot feel of the scene itself, and the contrast seemed to tell me the message of the dream.  I had been on the sidewalk alone, and I didn’t have the same childhood as the boy, and I had to struggle to get the buttons to do even half as well as the boy’s.  But I was the one in amazement, joy, wonder, and happiness.  He had been accompanied by his dad and brother, had been given tons of attention, had talent that was just willy, nilly flung about. . . and yet, he seemed so miserable.

I think I may now better understand why suffering and struggle may be of value, at least while here on Earth.

Because nothing has come easy to me in life, I was forced to either pull inside and find my own way and happiness, or remain forever miserable and a victim of circumstances.

I found other ways to be, within the misery.  So, I *do* know of other ways to be.

What about you?

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