I dreamt that Guruji came to YogaWorks, alive and well (tall, with long hair and a lithe body) and sat with my mother (also alive and well, if quiet) and me on a couch. He noted our resemblance; my mother just smiled. She was not in the rest of the dream. Guruji, full of energy, demonstrated yoga poses I’d never seen before, and then we went outside to wait for a bus and he instructed me to lead him through part of Intermediate series. I mixed up the vinyasa, and he laughed, kindly.

After my mother died I kept hoping that I would see her in dreams. I wanted her to tell me she was okay. I wanted her to give me advice that she never got to give in life, and to tell me she would always be looking out for me. But dreams are never this neat. Her appearances in my dreams are occasional and brief, and I struggle after waking to remember what, if anything, she said. And that fact has gone from being frustrating and sad to comforting, in a way; maybe she doesn’t think anything was left unsaid. Maybe she thinks I’m doing alright.

This entry was published on January 9, 2011 at 2:38 pm. It’s filed under Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: