Since I recently wrote about dreams, I thought I’d share a recent experience. It involves a dream, and a whole lot more.
Last Tuesday we had a welcomed late-night visitor, our friendly freezer repairman. We had waited for his much heralded appearance for over four months (I’ll save you the long boring story about my being fiercely, sometimes irrationally, loyal).
He came and fixed the freezer, and also the ice maker which just-so-happened to break and leak buckets of water on the hard-wood floor some 2-hours before his arrival. I could talk about the non-coincidence of his timely/unexpected arrival right when our ice maker broke, which we were planning to rely on heavily on for the holidays. But this is not that story.
This story is about how in helping my friend the freezer-now-ice-maker-repairman do his job, I dropped a case of water on that bulbous, squishy, outside part of the foot where it meets the ankle (tried and failed identifying what this strange body part is called). It hurt. BAD! And if it weren’t for really wanting my ice maker fixed, I most certainly would have made much more of a spectacle of myself than I did.
After the appliances were working again, I went straight to the bath to soak my aching foot. Whenever I got up and out of the tub, it would throb again, so I’d sit back down in the bath. Eventually I hobbled over to my bed, elevated my leg, and willed/wined myself to sleep.
At 4 am I woke in writhing pain. It was as bad as when it first happened. Searing, stabbing agony. I started to stress about how I was going to accomplish all on my plate the next day if I couldn’t walk. I needed Advil ASAP. And probably some ice from that newly working ice maker. But I absolutely hate getting out of bed at night. It wakes my husband. It wakes my dogs. I just don’t do it. So I told myself that I just have to go back to sleep and deal with it in the morning. And somehow, I listened.
I went back to sleep and here’s where you can start paying attention again.
In my dream, I went to visit John of God (if you don’t know him, he’s a majestic, albeit controversial healer). I went to a conference where he was in attendance administering his spiritual treatments and in the dream, John of God, a man I’ve only read about, healed my foot.
As I’ve trained myself to do, when I awoke, I immediately wrote down my dream. It was afterwards that I made the connection and realized that my foot didn’t throb. I stood up and walked around. It didn’t just “not throb,” it was pain-free. This was just 2 hours after I had awakened at 4 am in agony. Now my foot was fine.
In my mind, the only “explanation” of how such a spontaneous healing was possible was my dream. But life doesn’t come with explanations. It’s cliché, but I suppose that just means we say it because it’s true. And I like it that way.
The mysterious, and yes even the miraculous, make us appreciate that ANYTHING is possible. When we release the need to know why, or how, we open ourselves up to more opportunities. When we can believe something is possible without needing to solve for “how” that thing will occur, by default the realm of possible solutions are limitless because we haven’t confined the solution to fit within our premeditated parameters.
I can’t explain what happened. But I don’t need to. Let’s just revel in the mystery of life, and give thanks for all, including the unusual, the curious, and the just plain crazy things that take place that we don’t understand.
With loving gratitudes,