The Return To Innocence

Why is it that, in most dreams where I am in physical danger, I am unable to scream or move quickly?
My last dream involved a bad fall and crash at the top of the stairs, while a large group of people were downstairs having a small quiet party. Something supernatural was with me, something insidious. I grabbed the stair ledge and pulled myself up to a kneeling position. I yelled my husband's name, but it was only a whisper. I couldn't call for help, not with the shadowy creature surrounding me. I was moving so slowly. It felt as though nobody was in the house but me, me and the cats.
And abruptly, I realized that nobody was in the house. Adam was at work. There was no party. The cats were all downstairs. It was only me and the shadow entity. I struggled to call on my internal resources, my spirit guardians, but even my psychic voice was muffled. I was not afraid. I was determined. I was badly injured, and I only had myself, and my powers to create weapons and defenses were drained. I stopped trying to stand. I knelt there and mouthed words, calling on the water in the bathroom, the air circulating around the house, the earth under the house, the fire downstairs used to light the gas stove. I pulled in all into me, and with a desperate burst, I unleashed it. The shadow creature shrieked and vanished.
Without any warning at all, the house filled with presence again. There was that quiet downstairs party. I whispered my husband's name again, struggling to turn it into a cry. Someone must have heard. Adam came up the stairs and found me, sagging against the door of the bathroom, my nose bleeding. He spoke to me. He half-carried me to the bedroom and helped me lie down. He brought damp towels and tissues and water with electrolytes. I managed, somehow, to tell him that a negative spirit had entered the house and stole my strength, and I pulled all the elemental power I could to drive it away. He was very proud but also puzzled, since the house was supposed to be powerfully shielded and guarded. I was crying but I didn't mean to cry. It was just a reaction without intention. He stroked my hair and curled up with me, and me took my hand and fed me energy and power and strength, and he said, "Go to sleep, my darling. I'll be monitoring you through our psychic bond and everything will be okay. I will strengthen the wards." He needed to check on our friends. He would back be up soon.
The dream ended there.

It has been something of a recurring thing: My slowness in dreams. My exquisite agony in dreams. My whispering words in dreams. Sometimes I can barely walk for the pain in my hips and knees. Sometimes I can only speak with thoughts instead of physical words. Sometimes my body is wrapped in a floating translucent shell and it is the only way I can move. In my dreams, the pain is so much worse than in reality. But I have access to weapons of all kind and I feel safe, even if something horrible grabs me.

When I was a child, I had flying dreams every night. Even astral projection. Like my father and cousins in their younger years. And if a harmful person appeared, I just waved my right hand fiercely, shouting "Shoo! Shoo!" to make then disappear.

When I was a child, I dreamed of dragons, of ancient tortoises, of unicorns mixed with white tigers, of phoenix birds with feathers of every color. Dragons have never been dangerous to me. Even if some were, there were always other dragons who were benevolent.

It is why I always bristle when I read an article comparing chronic pain to dragons. The only way I can see such battles happening is dragon against dragon. And I am a human amalgam of dragon, phoenix, tortoise, unicorn, white tiger, and fae, wrapped in the skin of a moonlight witch.

Then, why do my dreams cripple me? The only reason I can think of is to teach me to use the insides, the powers coming from my spirit and not my body. My body is very important and vital to me. But perhaps not so much in my dreams.

And I think this piece of art, beyond anything, is one of the greatest ways I can understand myself. Every time I look at it, I weep. I even have that same cane. I know Shinga and I barely know each other, but she knows chronic pain. She knows what being a warrior means. She was in the US Army and was badly injured and treated so poorly during therapy that she has severe PTSD. She is disabled badly. She knows battles. And I want to hold her and hold her and tell her what this means to me.

http://shinga.deviantart.com/art/Awaken-Warrior-and-Rise-378439320

(Note: Please please refer to Shinga before borrowing or using this image. Please use the Deviant Art link. This is her work. Copyright Shinga. The only reason I displayed the actual image was in case someone can't click on the link.)

For me, my confidence always lifts so high with the little things.
The pomegranate red and the raspberry pink. Always.
http://beautyinfozone.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/it-cosmetics-pretty-woman-lipstick.jpg
http://beautyinfozone.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/it-cosmetics-love-story-lipstick.jpg
http://beautyinfozone.com/beauty/it-cosmetics-vitality-lip-flush-anti-aging-lip-stain-review/

The pomegranate and the raspberry are prominent and powerful in mythology and legend.
Both the pomegranate and the red raspberry contain ellagic acid and are able to filter UVA and UVB rays, making them excellent additions to sunscreen products. They both contain extremely high amounts of various nutrients, amino acids, and skin-healing nourishers. They both help guard against inflammation and some types of cancer. Their bright colors indicate their intense antioxidant abilities.

I am proud and happy to finally have found my favorite red and pink lipcolors, especially products that contain my favorite nourishing, hydrating, plumping, moisturizing, staining, and healing ingredients. I no longer need to search.
(Revlon Lip Butter Lipstick in Red Velvet and Cherry Tart come in second, while Too Faced Lip Creme Lipstick in Stiletto Red and I Want Candy come in third.)

In my current profile photo, I am wearing a blend of Love Story and Pretty Woman, affected by lighting and webcam angles. I will always feel strong with this lipstick, no matter what.

Some say the gods are just a myth, but guess who I've been dancing with?
The great god Pan is alive!

Some say the gods are just a myth, but guess who I've been dancing with?
The great god Pan is alive!

"A good myth is always true, even if it isn't real." -Ursula Vernon
"Belief in the story makes it a fact, regardless of the amount of truth involved." -Robert Wuhl

"Folktales are usually an inheritance from family or homeland. But what if you are a child enduring a continual, grueling, dangerous journey? No adult can steel such a child against the outcast's fate: the endless slurs and snubs, the threats, the fear. What these determined children do is snatch dark and bright fragments of Halloween fables, TV news, and candy-colored Bible-story leaflets from street-corner preachers, and like birds building a nest from scraps, weave their own myths. The "secret stories" are carefully guarded knowledge, never shared with older siblings or parents for fear of being ridiculed -- or spanked for blasphemy. But their accounts of an exiled God who cannot or will not respond to human pleas as his angels wage war with Hell is, to shelter children, a plausible explanation for having no safe home, and one that engages them in an epic clash."
http://www.miaminewtimes.com/1997-06-05/news/myths-over-miami/

People wonder why I believe seriously in all these myths and legends of gods and angels, spirits and magic... this is partly why.
You make your myths, you share your faith, you spread a sense of hope, power, familiarity, love, safety, understanding. God -- all gods -- in all places, the idea a strong comfort to those who feel lost and alone.
I hate it when people argue over faith. It doesn't matter. You have your gods and faith, I have mine. In the end, it can't be forced or preached or threatened. It's all faith. It's in the heart and the soul and the mind. People tell me that if I don't share their faith, I will suffer for eternity. I wonder if they use threats to cover their own fear, their own loneliness, their own worry. They project their fears and hopes onto others so they feel better about how they are living and how they will die. They think: If everyone believes what I believe, the world will be better. Humanity will be better. I see it now. I have the answer. I know the truth.
The thing is, there are billions of truths out there, small gods and minor angels and silent spirits and deeper magic. Everyone sees what they need to see in order to make the world better for themselves.

My hope and wish for this holiday season is that people start realizing that having faith means being together and respecting each other, not blindly trusting that they'll get their own way in the end, not hoping non-believers might be punished.
Even atheists have a kind of faith. Faith means so many things.

Beyond that... I hope everyone is having a lovely, joyous holiday. I hope you are with the ones you love and you are safe and happy.