Dream Building 101
For the first time since I got so deathly ill back in September, I returned to my Life Skills classes last night. I was blown away by how packed the space was. I would venture to guess there were about 50 people there. I remember the good ole days, over five years ago, when I was one of a core of regulars numbering five at the most, including me! I love that I started out before this got big, that I have got to watch it grow and leap and stretch. Doing so with them has done so for me in my personal life. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Megan for catching a vision twelve years ago and starting these classes. I am grateful for her willingness to forge on and for her partner, AnnaBeth, who became a co-teacher just as I ventured into their realm. The two of them see me!
Last night, we began a new series called “Dream Building.” The moment I walked into the room, my body exploded in chivels. (Chivels are my own personal body experience, which developed last year. I am incredibly intuitive, with strong body signals, and whenever I am in a space of truth, or if someone speaks a truth, or I state a truth then my body explodes in all these signals at once. My nipples stand out [Wooohoooo! Gotta love that!!!], I get shivers and chills and this huge, sizzling energy zaps through me instantaneously. Thus, Chills+Shivers+Nips+Zap=Chivels) The coolest thing was that it did not stop for the whole night! It was a wild ride and such a rush. I knew I was in a space where something big was coming. I could see it in AnnaBeth and Megan, just simmering there, waiting to be uncorked.
We did an exercise wherein they played some very moving music and then we spent the time writing down things that came to our mind from our lives. Each thing was just a jotted note with a little dot that we would eventually connect to uncover any themes or patterns. As I began, I was, of course, sobbing because they chose to share the song that AnnaBeth is using for her personal epic journey right now, 10,000 Miles by Mary Chapin Carpenter. It’s not so much the words for me, although they are amazing, it is more the sound of this song just goes deep into my soul. (I included a beautiful photo montage that someone has created with this song as the background for your listening/viewing pleasure.)
I was amazed at how fast the memories came at me. Little clips of my life coming as a frenetic slide show of images and sounds. I began with the thought that we would be eventually connecting the dots, although they didn’t tell us that up front. Therefore, I wanted my picture to be pretty. I wanted to do it right. Thing is, it was all coming at me so fast, there was no way to organize it or make it form a pretty picture. So I just wrote.
Memories came at me first in the faces of the people I have loved. There they were all shining and beautiful before me. And then I would remember my life through them. These little pieces of who I am all a part of who I love. I wrote furiously, my page unclear through the tears. And it just kept coming.
Then they said, “Now connect the dots.”
I blinked several times and stared at the page, trying to see something, anything in the pool of words and dots splashed upon my page. Then I felt led. Just move with it, I heard. So I did, fearing all the time that I was doing it wrong. This is what I did with it…
So I stared at the completed project, seeing no pattern, no picture, no themes. I felt angry. I did it wrong. Mine’s not working. Which, in and of itself, was a very familiar pattern for me. Then my dear friend sitting next to me said, “Yours is so flowy. I like how it leads from one dot to the next in a smooth, flowing pattern. Mine feels all jaggedy.” I looked at hers and at others around me. I saw many kindergarten Christmas trees and shapes that looked like angry bam!s from cartoons…
I saw a heart and a few circles. But nothing looked like mine. Mine’s different. I did it wrong.
Mine’s different. I did it wrong.
So sad, this propensity of mine to make my uniqueness out to be wrongness.
I stared at my picture, loving the dancing feel of it and the loop-de-loop appearance. I liked my picture, but it wasn’t really a picture. It was simply a looping, curvy line that led from one dot to the next.
Then Megan said, “Close your eyes. I am going to ask you a question and I want you to jot down the very first thing that comes to your mind when I do.”
I closed my eyes immediately, trusting her to guide me safely. She waited until the room was quiet and then asked, “What have you been preparing your whole life to do?”
The first thing that came to me was…
On and on it went, this analyizing. Until I realized that Megan was talking and I was completely out of the exercise, out of my body, out of the room.
I brought it home and asked myself the question. I made it first person and was stunned with the answer.
“What have I been preparing my whole life to do?”
L E A D!
What the hell?! I am not a leader! I am a follower. WHAT?!
In fact, I even commented to Tewkesbury on one of my recent blogs, that very thing, “I have a story, though, that I am more of a follower rather than a leader. You set up a party, I’ll be there, but I will be damned if you ask me to plan it – sort of thing. It is, of course, mostly a story. A cover up, if you will. Cuz, in the end it all boils down to the fact that I’m just a great big scaredy cat.”
I am here to LEAD?!
Then I looked at my picture and I remembered my feelings, that this line led me from one event/person to the next. I remembered that I have always felt that I have been led and that I am where I am because I am supposed to be. I remembered that each moment has felt as though it was designed to lead me to the next. I remembered my friend saying that she felt like she was led through my life just by looking at the picture.
Tears and chivels.
I shared my experience with the group and AnnaBeth said, “Angie, I appreciate you sharing that because it really does take guts to stand up for who you are. As humans, we tend to say that we are not actually what we are because it is really damn scary to be who we are sometimes. It can be really scary to be who you are meant to be.”
And then Megan said, “Ang, I know for a certainty that it takes the best follower to be the best leader and that the best leaders know when to lead and when to follow and they do both.”
- Share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
- Click to email (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)
- Click to print (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Google+ (Opens in new window)