Not long after her departure, I was meditating in my office. I had had a dream a week or so earlier of my father and I was contemplating it. The dream went like this. I was walking up some stairs in a very industrial building, one made completely of concrete. When I got to the stairs, I turned left and entered a large chamber. The floor was covered with about an inch of a bile-like substance, thick, gooey, and sickening. My Dad was above me, suspending from the high ceiling on a long rope, his body hanging on a large hook stuck in his back. Horrified, I looked at my Dad while I worked my way around the periphery of the room, staying near the walls where the bile was less deep. Eventually I made my way to a door and went outside. It was nighttime and I was in the parking lot. This is when I woke up.
I had a very difficult time figuring out the dream. It was so troubling, so potent, and so obviously associated with the experiences around my father's death and my participation in and reactions to those experiences. So I decided to practice what's called active imagination, recreating in my mind the scenes of my dream as vividly as I could. When I felt the dream was as alive as it could be, I asked my Dad, suspended on the hook from the ceiling, "What are you trying to tell me?" And he responded, "Let me off the hook!"
I came to the understanding that what was being said was that I needed to let my self off the hook, to forgive myself, to understand how I was doing the best I could with where I was at the time. I burst into tears. And just as this happened a final metal ball in the box fell and hit a chime.
This was a very healing experience for me. I was much more able to forgive myself, and because of this forgiveness, feel close again with my father. The power of self forgiveness, of recognition of being human. And how not participating in this forgiveness was keeping my heart so hard, creating distance from my self and those I love.
I felt and feel to this day that Marilyn's presence in our home facilitated this experience. Similar experiences have happened to me when in her presence. The ringing of the bell was such a loving and discreet and deeply personal confirmation of my work with the dream, of the love I share with my father, and of the intimately sacred healing space within the heart. And I am so grateful to Marilyn and to, in her words, our Universal Grandparents, (what a lovely way to describe this loving force within our lives). Thank you, father. Thank you, Marilyn. Thank you in whatever form you take, Universal Grandparents.