Accessing my higher consciousness is a rather particular process. I picture my name. It holds so much power. I imagine my energy, a feeling like rods of cold glass, coursing through me. I begin to buzz. I am aware of my clothes touching my skin and I can taste the inside of my mouth. My hands are heavy and clumsy. My solar plexus feels warm. That’s when I know.
I asked my higher consciousness to show me love during a dream. I’m not sure what love is. My everyday mind gets muddled and foggy with everyone else’s sentiments. I wanted clarity. I wanted an understanding that everyone else seems to have but me.
I dreamt about putting my head on someone’s chest. I dreamt about watching someone’s face intently, watching their eyes dart and watching their eyelashes and watching their side profile kiss the air like the sun kisses the sky when it rises. I dreamt about knowing that someone thinks about me even if I am not in front of them. I dreamt about knowing I’m safe with someone, knowing that even if the world were on fire, they’d have my hand.
I dreamt about stability. I don’t want to be chased or courted or complimented. I want someone to sit down with me and tell me that things will be ok. I want to laugh with someone, a laugh that comes from the belly and reignites every time we look at each other. I want to look at someone and smile and know we can conquer the world, the block, the spider in the bathroom.
I awaken. I feel the entire world inside my head. I understand it’s vastness. I touch my eyes and I understand love.