Three days of dynamic meditation, three nights of intense dreams.

First night’s dream, eating whatever I wanted. A big plate of full English in front of me and a strong feeling of ‘do I have to?’ I really didn’t want to eat that meat.

The second night was full of drunken dreams, staggering about, lost and confused, unable to think clearly or act.

The third night, smoking. Dry mouth and smelly. Singe marks on a rug that wasn’t mine and throwing stubs out the window, grubby on the clean driveway.

These are not the usual random dreams; something is changing. It is definitely stirring things up, the breathing, releasing, jumping, being still and then dancing. I look forward to the pureness of it, the direct feeling during that hour after work. The nausea is lessening each day and I’m able to immerse more fully. Less wondering how long left of each section.