OK, first "D". Dreams. For two nights in a row, I have had very surprising dreams. I'd almost go so far as to say, "shocking". The two members of my immediate family who were, in life, most incapable of being caring or spontaneously helpful came to me in dreams to offer assistance. I guess that's all I will say. For years, I have tried to figure out whether such people are new souls, who do not yet know how to act lovingly, or old souls playing a teaching role in a given incarnation. These dreams have added a little weight to the latter possibility...in any event, it has been personally healing.
Second "D". Deadheading plants with friends. Recently I visited a friend who has had a challenging summer of loss and illness. In the midst of it, she had to leave an enormous plant outside uncared for, and there were hundreds of dead blooms. So we sat on the deck, she on one side of the flowerpot and me on the other, talking and deadheading. Every ten minutes or so, she would rotate the plant about a quarter turn, and we would continue pulling off the dead flowers. I wonder if this should be "a thing". I mean, what a good way to talk about hard subjects with an old friend. It keeps your hands busy, and your eyes on the plant, but your soul and ears are engaged in a uniquely focused way.
Lastly (I love things that come in threes, but I don't think there is a "D" in this!) -- I did a surprising thing for me, at least these days. I was rather rude to someone at, of all places, the local farmer's market. An older woman (even older than me!) looked to be jumping the queue/line, and I somewhat testily said to her, "Don't you know that there's a line?" The worst of it is, my apology (such as it was) was something that wouldn't be likely to be interpreted as such in northern Minnesota. I said, "Oops, sorry. Being a pushy New Yorker". I mean, fascinating that I still consider myself a New Yorker (although it makes some sense since, to this day, I've spent more time in New York State and City than anywhere else). But it really wasn't an apology, because I didn't say, "Sorry, that was rude of me." And I feel bad for reinforcing an overused stereotype. The universe doesn't usually give me much leeway -- my boomerangs of "not love" usually come back almost immediately. On this occasion, I'm not aware of any bad karma later in the day, perhaps because I realized so quickly that I had been snarky. Still, I'm not sure why that milieu put me on edge. Strange.
Life lessons galore, eh?
