“Unlike real Holland, this dream Holland had viaducts standing in lakes banked over canals. You were seeking for something to pass you over the water. There were signs to the ferry, to footpaths that led to boats, to boat hire, or to buy a rubber dinghy, even to where to get a rubber ring.
None were right for you, so you agreed to sink; and wearing nothing but a dancer’s costume made like yellow rose petals, you sank into a lake of what might have been sheep’s milk— all creamy on top with jewels that might have been dew drops. You were radiant with joyful acceptance of your fate (not that death or drowning seemed imminent at all) and you wore a hat made of what might have been lily petal-feathers.”
I asked my guides to speak to me about this and these are the word which arose.
“Daughter of Life, how can you die? Only your body perishes. Let us share a story with you. Once there was a woman by the name of Vicki who never fit in. Oh, she tried. But she tired of trying. So she withdrew from life, having suffered many grievous blows.
She sat alone year and year, wondering if she was irredeemable. Nothing but a dreamer with an unfulfilled vision. And then a friend had a vision for her. So she got busy and actualized the vision of another. It wasn’t hers and yet she knew it was.
She traveled to another country, watery and alien to her. She followed the slender thread that the vision had thrown out for her. She wandered down a city street and went into an antique shop. There she saw an old tile with a blue background and a yellow lotus-like flower. Was that a symbol of his vision? She wasn’t sure, so she didn’t buy it.
She had lunch with her son and suddenly said, “I’m going back to buy the tile.” And this time when she entered the shop, she heard Leonard Cohen’s voice coming out of a boom box. The young man working in the shop smiled radiantly at her as she said, “Do you like Leonard Cohen too?” And she begin to sing and so did he. “I’m guided by this signal from the heavens. I’m guided by this birthmark on my skin…”
And she bought the tile and now it sits on her kitchen hutch along with a teak buddha bought the next day.
That woman was you. You actualized the vision. On an unconscious level and a conscious level, everything came together. Unity had to emerge from the sea of sorrow. Go now and tell your story.”