Finding a M2B:) moment was impossibly tough today because we put my mother in the hospital. Watching your mom crying and trembling with pain, with none of her meds coming close to bringing relief, is agonizing. Everyone who’s known the helpless feeling of being unable to comfort a loved one in great pain knows exactly what I’m talking about.
Once we got my mother into her room at the hospital and she was given even stronger medication than she’d been taking here at Scotshaven still the pain persisted. Her anxiety that accompanied the pain seemed to make things worse and more frightening to my fragile 82 year old mom.
The words “fragile” and “mother” have never sync’d up in my mind. Even when she had her aortic valve replaced a decade ago, she seemed to me to be the tough survivor who’d always rescued me as a kid. Today she was hurting and scared and all I could do was get her to the hospital and try to keep my mouth shut when I wanted to scream, “Make her stop hurting…NOW!!! I can’t stand it anymore!!” Well, neither could she, but somehow she did.
When Lynne and I finally came home and prayed she’d calm down and make it through the night, I was unable to find the M2B:) moment. I searched my heart for the things I was grateful for: a wonderful hospital nearby…our being here with her and not out of town…the fact that modern medical science would surely have some answers once the real problem was identified…etc. etc. etc. Even my determination to accept what was and trust that this was a necessary part of the plan didn’t ease my own anxiety enough to face this blog and tell the truth without leaving my mission to be happy early because it wasn’t working out the way I wanted.
So I finished opening my heart to heaven and then fell in bed, emotionally exhausted and unable to really find the right perspective on the difficult events of the day. And then I had an unusual dream.
To describe this dream is going to be a challenge because I found myself in a place where technologies existed that haven’t even been thought of yet. I was in a house overlooking the ocean and the owners of the place knew me, or about me, and treated me like an honored guest, even though I wasn’t sure who they were. Every square inch of their home was a manifestation of unlimited creativity. Children were telling stories to each other with landscapes and toys that morphed into humans and animals. The older members of this family had found a way to storyboard films and plays and musicals with a dining room table that could respond to verbal expressions and become visually expressed three-D images. When dinner was about to be served all the walls of the house pulled away from the dining area and we were suspended above the ocean on a slab of artistically altered metal, with an inviting firepit in the center of the space, and we watched the sunset and sipped on herb tea and ate muffins.
No, I did not take any drugs before bed. This dream came out of nowhere. And while I was seeing all these extraordinarily creative tools doing unbelievably cool things, the people who owned the house asked me if I’d care to use their place as a resource for anything I was working on, or had worked on developing over the years. They seemed to be familiar with several of my songs, books, script ideas, musicals, straight plays and philanthropic dreams as well. Basically they told me that I was welcome to use anything and everything that was in their house of dreams to help me manifest mine.
It was a place so happy, so exciting, so challenging that I never wanted to leave. I recall feeling something nudging me to wake up and I fought it. I needed to capture the joy of this place and take it with me because I knew I’d need it. I was granted a short reprieve and soaked up the joy of the magical dream space.
When I finally awoke and tried to explain my dream to Lynne it was obvious I didn’t have the language to describe it as vividly as I’d lived it during the night. But I hadn’t forgotten the healing…the joy…the gift of those moments I couldn’t find during my waking hours. I’d found my un-findable mission to be happy moment in my sleep.
Someone told me once that when a dream is clearly interpreted we never need to dream it again. If that’s true, I’m going to cherish the gift, but not struggle to uncover any deep psychological understanding….you see, I won’t mind if I return to that place again.
5 Comments
That definitely sounded like a cool place to visit and be. As much as I love my laptop and my e-reader, I don’t know if I’m up for my house being smarter than me. I think my favorite was the dining room, where everything disappeared to leave you a heavenly view. A place that could reverence, revere, and share such a moment and view with me, would be fantastic!
There are moments in life – you might call one a nexus, where all the realities of our present existence, both the easy and the hard, come together in one place, one in arguable, rock hard place that cannot be got around, and cannot be reasoned away. I haven’t hit too many of those yet. But when I’ve come close, the effect on my entire physical systems is devastating. Like you use up a months’ worth of life in a very small piece of time.
You must have been very deep indeed to have been invited into that dream. Because it doesn’t sound like a dream. It sounds – different. My mother had a different dream. I may have lingered in the fringes of one. How interesting. How merciful. And how I think you had it because of who you are and what you have done for others.
I am sorry to hear of your mother’s health. It is not easy watching the valiant women we cherish go through the pain and suffering we would happily place upon ourselves only to aid them into relief. Sounds like your mother is an indomitable spirit.
Remember this mission to find happiness in each day does not necessarily come in the form of our expectations. Through the pain, your mother was comforted by YOUR being with her. Your mission on this day was to make her soul happy. And I can tell you from experience, there is not a finer, more humble effort you could have made on your M2B:)
Wow! GREAT comments from wonderful people all because they care about you and your mother. K is right. I would not classify it as a dream but being asleep and for a lack of another way to describe it, a dream will have to suffice. Truly meriful and incfedible
We are sending you and your mother our love, peace and a calm to know it will be okay. Neither of you are alone and One who knows you both best is watching over and sending blessings fast. We have you both in our prayers and may God continue to bless you both and guide the doctors.
My M2B:) moments do not always make me smile or happy in the worldly way. I know it is a part of life that will help experience to the fullest why I choose this path.
He never promised it would be easy but it would be worth it. Hang in there Michael. There is no one like a mother and mine reminds me “Life by the yard is hard, life by the inch is a cinch.” Take a deep breath and one moment at a time. God bless you both!
Tender mercies from our Father. He doesn’t take away the difficult things but while we are going through them He lets us know He is there, and aware. And He sends us little comforts along the way that help us to cope and make the difficult things bareable.
I pray your mother is back home at Scotthaven quickly.