Inner Child, Inner Message

Last night I had another dream.

I’ve not had a great deal of time over the past few days to write a new post, hence the fact that I have resorted to reposting some of my particular favourite posts from days gone by. As well as not having any time, I’ve also not had a great deal of inspiration either.

Last night I had another dream.

A few days ago, I sent a message out to the universe asking for something to come to me, something that I could write about for a post or two for my blog, and hopefully something that would cause further bursts of inspiration at a later time.

And last night, I had another dream.

This dream started with me milling around a strangely busy street. A pedestrian street this time, and I think it was in a similar area to where I recently dreamt a passenger got out of my car. Now, I know that description of my last dream doesn’t exactly sound riveting, but it was at the time.

So, I was in this street, and all around me, people were being approached by others. A young man carrying a folder or briefcase-type thing came up to me, and in a friendly tone said “I’ll be with you shortly, just continue to wait around here…”, and he walked off again.

I noticed the other people being taken away by their ‘approachers’, nipping into alleyways, and doorways, getting into cars, basically all being taken to one side.

The same young man came back to me, and said “Walk with me.” And we walked along the road. We were chatting amiably, very friendly tones, about nothing at all. Nothing serious anyway.

The young man asked that we went inside this building that we had walked up to, and inside we got into a lift with a few other people. People I didn’t know, but people who looked familiar to me. We were still chatting amiably, and the young man collected some forms and put them inside the folder-thing he was carrying.

We then left the building, and walked into another road. This time traffic was allowed, but there were no vehicles on the road. The young man asked me if I recognised the street.

I advised that it wasn’t an area that I usually visited, but it looked familiar. I was curious, and wondered what was taking place. I asked the young man why he was part of this group of people who were chatting to people, and how did he get involved with the group in the first place. It was intriguing and interesting, to start off with.

Suddenly, his tone changed. He opened the file he was carrying, and said that I had driven away from that area, and in particular I had driven away from the scene of an accident earlier. I didn’t remember any accident, nor did I remember driving in the road either. The young man went on, “We have images that show you exactly where you were.”

He showed me what he had taken from his folder. Hand painted images of me in various situations that I did remember, including some of those awkward, embarrassing situations that, when you think back, you would hope nobody saw. What was more embarrassing about them, was the fact that someone had actually hand-painted them (they weren’t photographs) and they were ‘warts and all’. Bad hair. Spots. Ill-fitting clothing. Explicit.

The young man didn’t say anything about any of the paintings. He simply flicked through them matter-of-fact like, not meaning to cause any further embarrassment or offence other than what he was causing. He was extremely calm, and very gentle.

The young man went on to say that we are being watched at every second of the day. Everything we do is being observed by someone. Wherever we go. Whatever we do. And whatever we do, we do for a reason. The people we meet who look familiar, look familiar because we had walked passed them earlier that day, or the day before. The people who are around us may be strangers, but they are also an audience. They aren’t aware that they are doing it, but they are observing what everyone else is doing, however, they too are not there by chance.

He then referred to his people, the ‘team’ he belonged to, and he said that they are everywhere, and are everywhere for a reason.

“Take a step back,” He said, “And see a wider view of things.” He also said, “Take things more slowly and get more things done”.

I never got to find out anything about the ‘accident’ he mentioned, unless he was referring to all of the ‘incidents’ of my past that I really should just leave there and walk away from.

I awoke this morning with the strangest of feelings. I felt as though I was ‘on show’, everything I did was being observed by someone. In fact everything I thought was being observed as well. I didn’t want to do anything wrong. I didn’t want to have any further embarrassing paintings made of me.

Of course I’ll have more of these paintings created over time. We all make mistakes… I’m just going to try harder not to repeat mine. Or have them come back to haunt me when I least expect it.