On the precipice

I dreamt I was in my mother’s old house in Pennsylvania, the mold-infested held-up-by-cement-blocks-and-a-jack house, and I was surrounded by cats. My brother was there, playing video games in his bedroom with his girlfriend. There were cats all over the place, and they were having kittens second by second. I couldn’t keep up with all these kittens. I was warming water in the kitchen and carefully mixing it with formula, then feeding them using an eyedropper. I was worried about them getting outside, because it was dark and cold. I needed help, but no one was very interested in helping me.

My brother handed me another kitten and said, “Here, this one’s white.” I’m not sure what that meant, but it must have some significance. White is purity, innocence.

I told my mother about the dream, and she said, “My grandmother would have said that means something is out of balance.”

Gram, as I’ve always called her, was a Seer. She sat for hours at a time in front of the crystal ball and could tell you exactly what would happen in your future, scene by scene. Friends would come to Gram’s house and she would look into the crystal ball for them. She was always right. When Gram was still alive, she told my mother her future. My mother lived all over the country.

One day, Gram said, “This is so strange. I see goats. You’re surrounded by goats.”

Much later, my mother moved to Missouri. Where she worked, there were goats. Everywhere.

Gram said, “I see you coming down from the mountain. You are wearing white and black.”

Many years later, years after Gram’s death, my mother hurried us out of the house and we ran through the woods. We left Daddy’s house, where we lived on a mountain. I still don’t understand the reasons. And my mother came down from that mountain, wearing white and black.

People came to see Gram because she was always right. She could see exactly what would happen in your future, but she didn’t know why she could see it. It was just there.

I think of the cats in my dream. I think of the unbalance I feel now. I guess Gram was right—as usual. I want to take my life and pummel it into submission, force it like a mold, create balance where there is none.

I have a good life. I always have. Yet it always feels as if there’s something missing. Is this just the way it is to be human? I try to think back to my past lives, and when I do, I recall unbalance there as well. I know we return to the Earthly plane to learn things, and when we’re finished learning, I don’t think we need to reincarnate anymore. But the end result, the graduation, is what’s uncertain. Not death, because death is always certain. I mean stepping up to the next level of being—enlightenment. I think you can either graduate, or you can remain behind if you wish. Sort of like visiting a carnival and concluding, “Well, I’m all done here, but I think I’d like to ride the Ferris wheel again.”

I’ve lived many, many lives but I’m not done learning yet. I’m always seeking knowledge and enlightenment, but I’m definitely feeling that unbalance. One thing is for certain: I’d better head home and feed the cats.

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