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Dear Becky, Waiting is Hard...

February 27, 2020

Dear Becky, 

Hey friend, how are the kids?  Does your little one still spit-shine the floor for fun?  I know that drives you absolutely crazy in the moment, but friend, pause.  Give yourself permission to laugh about it. Because one day she will discover that intrigue has left for other, more complicated places.

Last night I had another vivid dream.  

This time the details were a little fuzzy, but it went like this:

A round object reminiscent of an over-stretched t shirt had fallen on my floor.  As I bent over to pick it up, I realized I could see the refracted and rippling appearance of another world or dimension through it as if peering at a city at the bottom of a dark pool of water. Curious.  

I reached inside and could feel the cool moist atmosphere of some other place wash over my hand and up my arm.  Not like reaching into a body of water. No. More like reaching into the cool damp drizzle of a heavy fog. It beckoned me to dive in, to explore, or else escape. Looking closer, I realized I knew of this place on the other side. It had a name, though I cannot remember. 

Knowing I could not yet dive in--I would not go without the ones I love--I wondered if I would lose this opportunity if I chose to wait.  Would the magic dissipate if I picked up the shirt? Could I save it for another, more appropriate time? I would never know unless I tried.  

And so I did.  

I picked it up and cast it down again.  It worked! 

This time in a different place.  The feeling as I submerged my hand into the rippling atmosphere of this other land. This place also had a familiar name, though I cannot remember it now. I had been there before. But still, it was not right to go.

I picked up the shirt and stowed it away, hoping the possibility would exist again when I was ready. When we were ready. 

Later on I decided to show The Weatherman my discovery.  With great excitement I cast the round shirt-like object on the ground.  As it fell, the portal opened. But it wasn’t right. I cast again. And this time it was perfect. I grasped the hand of The Weatherman as he peered inside.  Again, the time was still not right for full submersion, but perhaps just a taste. As we knelt down together, with our hands intertwined, we dangled our feet into the cold misty atmosphere. I could feel gusting wind across the lower half of my legs and feet. Looking down to see where this wind was coming from,  I realized we were dangling over the top of the Empire State Building at night. It was magical. I couldn’t believe I had the chance to experience New York City from such great heights! I wondered about the purpose of it all. Why is this happening? I had no answers--only curiosities and a sense of adventure ahead. The Weatherman and I marveled at the experience of this aerial view as some time passed. It was sweet.  It was peaceful.

The dream ended with a knowing of sorts that these things--these portals--were gifts.—an inheritance of sorts stored up for when the time is right.

But waiting is hard, Becky.



-Lauren

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Artist

Wonder + Light, LLC

Lauren Midgley is a conceptual fine art photographer who shares stream-of-consciousness writings around topics of fine art photography, the convergence of art + faith, and cultivation of the creative process. She is a multifaceted artist, teacher, and mentor whose expertise speak to both the spiritual and human condition while broadening the practice of artistic expression. Her works have been shown in Galleries in Austin, New York City, Denver, North Carolina and Oklahoma CIty.

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