
Last night I dreamt about a point of light that pulsed then traveled and duplicated. It then started extrapolating and branching off like tendrils off of a vine. It felt like the light was talking to me. It was communicating, trying to tell me something. It was a language of light. It was very beautiful and mysterious. It was kind. Just the fact that it was trying to communicate makes it kind. It was hopeful. Something small but big. Listen carefully, listen with your heart. It felt wonderful, magical, sweet and intimate. It was just for me. The universe expressing a message to me in another dimension. It was like watching someone type a message on a computer screen… the pulsing like a cursor in Word, just like I’m typing now. The cadence similar to that of someone typing. The waiting for a thought to flow, an idea to emerge, to seek understanding. I think there was another point also, a red one. They connected once then separated. Neither good nor bad, they just were. Both wanting to be seen and understood without judgment. Maybe that’s the message. Without judgment. So easily said. So hard in practice. Words always carry a resonance and can be heard differently depending on the receptor. And yet they are only like those points of light. Just transmissions looking for a home. There is no right or wrong, only the hope of understanding. There is so much misunderstanding in the world. It makes me want to cry.