In the dream, I was writing the word 'mercy'

In the dream, I was writing the word mercy over and over. It meant a great deal to me to have discovered this word. In the dream, writing the word felt like BEING the word.

In the dream, I understood that I was being given instruction - learning how language becomes image becomes embodied experience. When I became a quality called mercy, I felt different inside. It re-patterned my sense of myself. It changed me to hold this quality and let it vibrate through me.

Mercy felt deep. It felt ancient. It brought me into presence with whatever and whoever stood before me. It reverberated into my bones. An echo I still feel now, hours later. An echo I imagine I will feel for a long time.

Mercy. This word was so much more than letters on a page. It was a symbol of a real thing that was inside of me, and my body was responding.

You can experience this with me. Look at the word apple. See how the image of an apple appears in your mind. Feel how your body responds.

In the dream, the word was mercy and reading it, an image appeared inside of me. And my body responded by BEING that image.

It’s hard to explain. But also, it’s not. You get it.

After that dream, I woke up remembering something that happened a while back, one early morning a few years ago.

I’d just come into the kitchen after a full night’s sleep when I saw a waking vision. There was a woman standing by the sink. She was just a few feet away from me - it would take just a few footsteps to be standing just where she was standing. Oh, I realized. its me - only a few seconds ahead in time.

Though this was strange, it felt perfectly normal - the experience that my guides were showing me something - another lesson in mystery school.

In the vision, I saw myself turn on the tap and pour myself a glass of water. Oh, I see, I thought. Then, our time frames merged again and I got myself a glass of water.

This dream was like that. I was watching myself write the word mercy and realizing that it was a message. Something important was being written into the notebook. - my notebook.

Something about how to proceed, how to live. Something about mercy.