Lucid Living

The night before last I dream…

…that I have pulled out a small plant, by accident. It’s like a little tree, but very small with one thin white root. I can almost see that it has a face, like a tree nymph. I know it will be fine as soon as I get it back in the dirt. But I get distracted, and do all sorts of things instead of planting it again. I get caught up with some cars in the street blocking the way. I glance at the little plant under my right arm. Again, I’m reminded… that I need to get it back into the earth. But instead, I interact with other people on the street and those blocked cars. When I remember the plant again and come back to it, I see that it has died. The root is now dark brown. And the face that I can almost see, its little eyes are now closed. I am unbelievably sad in the dream.

I am horrified that I let this happen.

My grief is beyond palpable. I do see that there are two small branches that still have green leaves on them. I put the little plant in a bowl of water and hope that it will come alive again. But I am doubtful. I wake with a horrible ache in the pit of my stomach that this happened. That I let this happen.

Throughout my day, this dream opened the door to great grief. And… I found beneath this grief a great longing for simplicity, for decency, for a connection with life, and to notice the small and tender parts of myself, and others, that need tending to. I even placed my feet in a bowl of water, as if I was the little plant that had died in the dream.

Could I awake to life myself?

Then today I went to my garden to pull some radishes that are ready to be picked for my lunch…

Two plants came out. This one…

and this one… “by accident…”

Just like the plant in my dream…

This time I knew what to do. I went straight back out to the garden and dug a small, but deep hole.

With no distractions!

And into the dark and rich soil… the little plant went.

And the seeds of my dreaming from the night before awoke to this very moment and the opportunity to follow what I knew I needed to do… to place this little plant with the long white root back into the soil and remember. Remember to step into life, into the feelings in my heart, and to cherish the rain washing over this simple act of waking.