I had an odd dream;  I dreamt I was a nun.  And it’s not the first time either, nuns seem to be a recurring dream theme with me. I don’t know why, I’m not a Catholic (lapsed Lutheran).  Nor am I looking to convert  to the Catholic Church–I disagree on a few issues that the Church teaches–issues that it insists is the Truth. (The louder a religion proclaims its dogma is the Truth, the more I’m inclined to politely ignore it.) And there’s the whole accept everything in the catechism on blind faith–that’s a post in and of itself. Yet, I’m still fascinated by it.   Catholism is a rich, historically so, faith and I like reading about religion. Well, if I’m to be truthful, I enjoy reading about all religions, actually.  I want to learn and grow from anything I read. But I …you got it…digress.

The dream was actually nice. It was serene.   I remember that my “dream” self was walking in a line up to the altar with more black and white clad ladies, I mumbled something and shuffled off. I think there was more to the dream, but I can’t recall…it’s sort of foggy now. I remember the feeling of utter peace and contentment … and something else, something so loving and strong, that I felt enveloped by it.  I wish I knew how to describe it.

Now, I realize (or strongly suggest) that my mind has transposed the image of the nun to be a spiritual symbol, so don’t worry–I don’t feel that I’m being called to be a nun.  I do think my dream is a challenge to be more spiritual, to have faith in something larger than myself.  Maybe it’s time to heal what I can of the remnants of my faith, since the rest of me seems to have mended.  I think it’s a call to return to the innocent person I used to be, shedding the harsh scales of bitterness and suspicion.

P. S Sorry for the general crappiness of my posts lately.