I was bathing my son at the very edge of the shallow end of some kind of pool. Water lapped at his soft, pale skin and his brown eyes gazed into mine with unwavering trust.
I turned to retrieve some kind of soap, and in a second he had slipped from my hands. My whole body lit fire with absolute terror - I watched my son sink below the dark blue water, his glowing form vanishing so quickly into the depths. His gaze still held mine - the gaze of trust.
Thoughts chased through my mind within those horror-stricken milliseconds -
Dive down, now! Quickly, there's still time!
But how will I find him in the darkness?
Just keep your eyes open!
How deep is this water? What if I run out of air?
Then come back up to the surface and keep diving until you find him!
What if he slips out of my hands? He's so small, so slippery.
Do it now, Bhakti!
And then, within the chaos of those thoughts, a shrapnel of light pierced my consciousness:
I could plunge into the chaos and the drama of desperately trying to rescue my son -
Or I could wake up.
Wake up from this dream.
Do it now, Bhakti.
I dragged myself from the depths of that dream, washing ashore to consciousness. I laid in bed, taking deep breaths, and I glanced over to see my baby boy sleeping beside me, his face angelic, his breathing steady.
A strange, grounded peace permeated my body. One could say that I had just experienced a nightmare that could haunt me for years to come. But I saw it for what it was - a nightmare. No more substance than a ghost. I had chosen to disentangle myself from the drama of something that never happened.
I had chosen reality.
I've heard all my life from the scriptures that this material world is compared to a dream, and lying in bed that night I realized that teaching deep within my heart. I can get so caught up in the drama of this world, entangling myself in pain and sorrow. But there is a spiritual reality to wake up to. A place where I belong, a place where there is no drama, only the electrifying wonder of living out my soul's purpose of serving and loving God and others.
I have had nightmares regarding the health and safety of my child since the day he was born. Sometimes they feel so real I wake up saying things to my husband and he just has to realize that I am half sleep talking. Maybe this is a phenomenon other mothers can attest to.
And you know what? Maybe even swapping tales of nightmares would be strangely gratifying.
But it's all drama.
Because none of them were real.
So what IS real? What to talk about instead? What to absorb my mind in instead?
I realize that those questions are the ones that lead me to God, because He is real and above this nightmare. He is the shore of peace.
athato brahma jijnasa
"Now is the time [in this human form of life] to inquire into the Absolute Truth"
