Writings: Sorrow makes things grow, most days…

Late last night, I was in the middle of a dream when the cat yowled at a raccoon outside. Kinda cool, because that helped me remember what was happening in the dream:

There was a stream next to a tree with roots that were above ground (some of ’em, or they wouldn’t be called roots) in a way that made for a chair shape. I sat there, watching & feeling the water go by, and glad for the sense of fulfillment & peace that made me glad I was there & nowhere else.

As I sat there, feeling the flow of the water, I realized some of the water was sad. It was the tears of people upstream who had lost friends. Some had people who were important to them pass away, and they missed them. Some had suffered harm, and hurt, and fearful situations.

I stretched my hand over the water, and said, “Only the tears need to come.” And the stream stayed the same, except that some of the water rose in a water spout and passed over my head, watering the field behind me. I knew that was the tears, rising from the flow, and in front of me the plants in the field grew quickly, strong & tall. Most of all, a second tree – not the one I was under – grew from a seedling, taking only moments to become large enough to spread its branches over me, protecting me (or so I thought) in its shade.

Still in the dream, I turned to my spirit guide, and asked, “What does it mean, Rinpoche? What does it mean?” As usual, making fun of me, he turned to my grandfather and said, “What does it mean?” who then turned to a rabbit who had hopped into the field, “Tell me what this means!” And the rabbit came to me, and whispered, “Sorrow makes things grow really big. Ever notice?”

It was really clear. Then the cat yowled, so I asked her if she was worried.

I don’t think she was, really.