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1/16/2009

Blue

She draws breath and puts a hand on her hip. Then she looks at me, the smooth hair falls into the void. "Do you know what difficult was for me, when I learned to dream."
I shake the head, while an immense sadness fills me, intense and the seizing the whole body. cou

She smiles a bit. "The grief, you know? - The grief. "She breathes deeply again. Then she seems to draw imaginary figures with the hand in the surface of her seat.
"Dreams made me sad. I experienced the most beautiful dreams and when I was awake again, I was intensely depressed. For a time the grief was so intense that I was more than desperate. I was afraid that I had become ill. The grief seemed to escape any control. "
"And then?"
"First the fear to be ill ceased, then the intense grief was gone and was replaced by a yearning. My body, my physical body had understood. The grief I had felt at the beginning turned out to be the counterpart in the world of the awake people. If we are awake, we feel grief when we have lost something. This loss was the interruption of the intense dreams that I had experienced. My first dream at this level her were so crazy, so full of desire and passion that being awake again seemed to be painful. "
I nodded. "Hard to understand."
She nodded. "For you, yes. You lack a bit of passion. That is not bad, because passion you can learn from me. Only that you should know there are people who feel an insatiable grief in themselves, they could lose if they were dreaming, always dreaming and would live their passions, whatever it might be. By experiencing my passions in dreams, wandering through them in dreams, my body learned the longing while awake. Longing for the vastness of the world, the beautiful winds, the knowing flowers, the nibbling sounds, the souls of peace and dawning bliss. "
"Passion?"
"Passion!"
I feel a little stiff and awkward. But the feeling of sadness slowly changes into a restlessness, a growing desire to experience something, a hunger .....
"Even better." She stands up and takes my hand. "It will be Blue Ray. True Blue. "
I follow her into a symphony of blue tones. A blue world, sounding colors. Colors that were beatific feelings for me, setting me up and seeming to carry me away. Like a whitewater trip, I dash through this world, always behind her, she laughs and gets slowly blue.
Then we come back to rest on a type of dune. "For this time it is sufficient," she says. "Blue waits for you at the gate to the passion."

6 comments:

Jena Isle said...

Figures of speech and metaphors. I can interpret them my way. But I'm more interested in your explanation. I'm slow today..lol..what with the whole week so toxic..lol..so I'm drained right now and deriving relaxation from your blog for starters.

This post is a good read, although I have questions. It gives a calming effect. God bless.

Dolly's Diary said...

Hi Ray,
I think the metaphors describe a person becoming more aware of their conciousness and getting away from living in the ego. I may be wrong but that is what I got out of it. Thanks for sharing,
Janet :)

enreal said...

Your words remind me of a conversation... a private conversation with myself... reassuring, reassessing, comprehending... then accepting...

You brought a smile to my heart with this tale...

Ray Gratzner said...

Dear jena, colors represent different energys, meanings and moods. It is only a snapshot out of another description of the world that may speak to the part of everyone who sense it all day long...
Happy Blogging

Ray Gratzner said...

Dear janet, I think your interpretation gets to the point. Thank you for sharing your thoughts...Happy Blogging

Ray Gratzner said...

Dear enreal, thank you for that smile, that was kind of you. Good luck for your conversations...