A.M.D.G.
The dream: I was going to "cut class" by leaving the Chan Hall from a session of a half day meditation retreat. I ran, hopped over bonsai and hedges, did parkour tour of bridge-ways and balusters til I have jumped over the wall unto my extra long, long board.
I glided trough terra cotta, cobble stones and brick roads and alleyways up until I came straight inside into my friends' home.
They are both of school age of about 8 and 12. They were wearing yukatas of white patterned with bamboo and twigs of black. It seemed that they were just preparing for a bath and needing to go somewhere special. Yet, in I went and rode my board into their spacious rooms. The shoji doors welcoming their familiar guest by opening automatically to accommodate me room by room.
In a little while, my friends' mother came home. It baffled me a little as she was wearing an identical robe as her sons' out in the streets. We exchanged greetings and farewells. She then offered me the use of their foot bath by handing me a very small bamboo dipper. In this dream logic the washing of the feet of a guest leaving is for their own spiritual cleansing from whatever impurification, debasement or corruption that the inhabitants could have tainted the house and, therefore, their visitor with. I took the dipper from her and squatted by the clear pool. I got a ladleful and let the water stream back down gently so as not to make a single drop splash out. I then whirled the water around the pool from the bottom upwards telling the mother telepathically that the water is as pristine and untarnished as their home and that I am stirring their souls.
Stepping outside, I was surprised that two very long side by side lines of cars with their red tail lights are snaking into nowhere. I could feel anxiety, frustrations and even rage of the drivers and passengers. I had to do something. I placed my palms on two side by side cars and they became boulders. Each car at their front and back and all the way up and down all cars in their own turn changed in to boulders and they are now winding upwards a mountain path while two gentle streams sing on each side.
On top of the rocks I saw people parading by springing from one boulder to another as if they are just skipping on footpath stones. At the front of the lines were a variety of kimonos, chogus, multicolored ceremonial robes, Changsangs and other vestments with some wax paper parasols dotting the procession . I know they have started their journey a very long time ago. Young people then children were next and at the end of the line were the laughing toddlers. Some were dressed on woolen jackets and pants, some versions of shirts, blouses, shorts and skirts while some have only cloth diapers on. They chuckled when they saw me and waved beckoningly to join them. In an instant I was on all fours and their laughter grew louder. I was now a toddler like them. I have been invited to the procession by the very old souls.
I stretched my neck to see what is at the top , yet, I already knew.
I would be a very modest shrine, humble, simple, small.
I also know that we could all fit in, the ancient ones and I, then you and us for this temple has no boundaries, no discrimination,
~~~~~~~
today I lit four incenses for the departed ones that I have learned about through friends in FB
the father of Joel Sevilla Erestain, Rey Galban, the mother of Eizel Hilario, the husband of Amy Resontoc, also in rememebrance of Arik Palomar, Jorel Buhay, Mikee Illescas, my Auntie Baby Mendoza and all my friends and relatives and ancestors who have passed away.
I also lit a single incense for all the prayers asked for healing from my news feeds
~~~~~~~
as for the writing of this , I am dedicating it for Coby, May you be bathed with waves of light and love from all those that have come before us and from all those that are still yet to come. May the universe and our Creator cradle you in their arms
