Sleepwalking

In the Matrix, the main character starts having rumblings of realization. Initially, he runs from it. Eventually, it literally catches him and he wakes up to discover Reality. It takes a little while to process it all and to make sense of it all, but in the end he succeeds and subsequently has to face his role in reality.

Healing has been like that for me. Dreams---the really terrifying kinds---were my rumblings. I am pretty sure that I tried everything "known to man" to make them go away. Eventually, they caught up with me; ironically, my dreams are what helped me finally wake up. I have spent the better part of the last year processing and making sense of it all, learning to see the footprints of trauma, learning to re-define and re-frame my ways of thinking, and coming to terms with my role in reality.

Again the dreams have surfaced. I have learned that this is either my mind's yellow flag or God's gift of warning me (both?): slow down, take note, wake up.

It sounds so strange to be 39 and admit that I am just now seeing myself, my spouse, my children (they have been my other yellow flag---first glimpse of unconditional love coupled with watching them just be children: slow down, take note, wake up) as complete humans. Before, everything and everyone was so fragmented. My therapist would remind me that most of my childhood was fragmented so, of course, that would be my learned perception of the world (slow down, take note, wake up). Now, I have this new found vision. No longer do I only see the things that are all good or all bad; rather, I see them together in harmony. The perfection in the imperfection and the imperfection in the perfection. It is messy, clear, beautiful, ugly, mundane, astounding, terrifying, peaceful...I am no longer sleepwalking.

Sleep is truly healing. It gives our bodies the break it needs to grow, to repair, and to defend. Striking the balance of not-enough-sleep and too-much-sleep is, like all things in life, a fine line. Waking up from a good night's sleep is a gift. Waking up from a lifetime of fragments to the reality of whole-complete (I love this definition of complete: having all the necessary or appropriate parts)-entire-ability to perceive life, loved ones, strangers is beyond my ability to express in words...I am finally awake.

I am awake enough to realize that maybe my role in reality is nothing more than slowing down, taking note, and waking up. The gift of life---reality, with all it's painful beauty, is a blessing that I don't want to sleepwalk through anymore. I am awake enough to realize that the simplicity and complexity of my role is also a beautiful blessing. And for these things, I am eternally grateful, and in this moment I am completely awake.