I believe in people

Someone said this to me recently and my heart hoorahed with joyful agreement. What a beautiful and simple way to sum up the essence of everything I feel and think. I have always described myself as a 'believer'. Sometimes idealistically so and occasionally to my detriment. But always quite firmly.

This way of expressing that believing, those two little words tacked on 'in people', is the rest. It fleshes out that description perfectly. I do believe in other things, the earth and her mother, the universe and her karmic wisdom, the sense and order of all things living, but it's humanity that captures me. The power and fragility of the human spirit. The strength of thought, the weakness of love, and vice versa.

I am so very fortunate to be able to see up close how people can be believed in. Both during the birth of a new human and now too during the reconnection of body and spirit in a person striving to find health and balance. Time and again I am astounded at how worthy people are of my belief.

I prance about saying, a little cheekily, 'anything and everything is possible'. Not so secretly, I believe this to be true. Can't you see it in the steps you've taken? The path you've walked? Who hasn't found themselves, at some point, needing to believe? Relying on whatever faith it is that they have, in whatever it is they believe.

Even when a person runs out of faith, has nothing left, there is always a glimmer somewhere in the rubble. There is always a way.
One only has to believe.

I miss eggplant!

I am eyeball deep in studying, trying desperately to catch up on long overdue 'projects', balancing solo parenting with me-ness and ALL that... so of course I have a wild dream about eggplant!

What else? haha

There I am sound asleep, dreaming in full colour, something I don't recall doing much of in the last few years, and what is it I recall when I awake?

Somewhere in my dream I ended up at the grocery store, a dimly lit, almost lounge like grocery store. I am wandering the aisles when I run into a woman named Oxana, who is shopping in her nightgown, hair tangled, harassed and frantic looking.

She is a new mom, she is my client. We are happy to see each other and begin pushing our carts in the same direction. She tells me rapidly and somewhat covertly, that there is a woman pursuing her.

Oh! and there is that woman now.... a squat and somewhat sinister looking person, with wisps of wirey grey hair escaping her babushka (I'm not saying she is Russian, it's just the only word I know to describe that handkerchief type of hair holder), she is watching us intently. We duck down an aisle and then round out to the produce section.

This is where it gets interesting... and odd, and funny. Are you paying attention?

We find ourselves at a massive display (actually two) of the largest looking eggplants I have ever seen. There is something odd about these eggplants though, they are sort of floppy and kind of bloated. When I pick one up, it's soft, but not in a squishy way, or an over-ripe way, rather it's more like how a blister feels. I don't know what to make of these eggplants, this can't be right, but oh I want one so bad. (there haven't been any eggplants for ages and I miss them terribly) I start systematically touching them, looking for one that feels as an eggplant should. What though of Oxana? I suddenly notice that she is plunging her hands into the eggplants! Literally ripping them open with her hands.

I look at her with a question in my face, she says "how else will we know if they are okay?"

Indeed.

Inside the eggplants it looks like there are little eggplant coloured hearts.. odd

And in my peripheral vision? Yeah that's right, the stalker woman...

Then I wake up.

Thank goodness right? I mean really, what is it all about? I have never known anyone named Oxana, where did that come from? Stalkers and eggplants with edema? Have I lost my subconscious mind?

Or maybe the message is; if you want to know if it's okay, just plunge your hands right in....