Sometimes it is good for me to write something dark. Holidays make that easier because with loss, they all feel blah. Oh, I will buy and eat Easter candy, but I don’t really need to. I will make a loose impression of an Easter lunch and then watch TV tomorrow night. So much for the holiday.

Last night I dreamt of Bob. We were together and it was very sexy and intimate. But then I woke up and went back to sleep. This time I dreamed of him again, but he was showing me pictures of his new wife, Jane. She had red hair and was quite lovely. They had even had a new baby boy. Most of the pictures featured water, for some reason.

I woke up feeling depressed after those dreams. I squeezed out a few tears; I don’t cry often any more. I have to remind myself that I will feel better in a few hours. Then I will put something in the crock pot and putter around for the rest of the day.

Newsflash: Spirituality is not what it is cracked up to be. It involves a tearing down of the old structure and for most of us, this is a lifetime task. At least it has been for me.

I frequently dream of cleaning up lots of basic space. I am sweeping up endless debris from a place where I was not the one that made the mess. That is probably leftover caregiver issues. I toiled in the caregiver mines for many years, as you all know.

I am not an optimist by nature; in fact, I was raised by two depressed people. But what sustains me is my love of truth. Bob was on the path as well. We shared our interests in self-study and we were opposites in many ways. He enjoyed people and I didn’t. He could fall asleep at the drop of a hat and I have been an insomniac. He was passive-aggressive and I was an annoying nag. Yet the love we shared was universal and it grows daily.

There is too much talk of awakening and not nearly enough about how deeply we sleep. Thank God I had a teacher like Vernon Howard that showed us that redemption happens when we study the False Self and let the True Self manifest effortlessly after that.

Happy Easter with a Double Dose of Dark Chocolate.

Vicki Woodyard