It’s Monday. I want to try again, so I settle into the rocking chair in our bedroom. Our cat, the one you said would outlive you one day, creates comfort in my lap. I stare at the large room and empty bed, scratching our cat’s cheeks the way you used to do, and he likes it. Eventually, after a wave of sadness and tears wash over me, I close my eyes and settle in.
I have an odd sensation, as if I am in the center and the door unfolds from below me in the shape of an egg, two sides rising to envelop me until it closes on top and I’m totally inside the expanse, floating again and night sky and stars appear. You tell me the door is an illusion and I don’t really need it– Just go to my Reiki training and will myself to be somewhere and I am. I AM.
I insist I was told to look for a door… that circular opening was too wild! Was that a door? You remind me not to worry about the material and to focus on what’s important.
When I ask to see a door anyway, a large wooden door comes into view, 5 stories tall, and a small person in front. It doesn’t open. I just press my way through energetically and a brief corridor appears and then the night stars. You remind me I don’t need all the illusion. This door appears majestic on a mountain side facing a beautiful ocean. I like the view.