The scene changed again entirely. I was me – the mom – in charge of my ‘house’. In this dream I knew that lots of teens/kids/relatives were visiting. The relatives had shown up and the kids had invited their friends. I was host to a couple dozen guests. I was willing to host them – but not willing to go out of my way and be taken advantage of. They’d all come for a specific 7-day event and this was the next to last day. I was in the kitchen with Sierra, making meal plans. My nephew was sitting on a barstool, overhearing our discussion.
Ingratitude & Entitlement
I said that today I’d make sausages, fresh berries and scones. Tomorrow I’d serve oatmeal and orange juice. Sierra turned up her nose in complaint, and began wheedling to get more and ‘better’ food. I would not be swayed. I was firm – “No. You already had bacon, pancakes, scalloped potatoes with ham, donuts that one morning, fresh pineapple, waffles”. I counted off the days and all of the breakfasts I’d fixed. I declared, “This isn’t a restaurant. You invited them all and I didn’t mind. I’ve fed them breakfast and a midnight snack every day. They get plenty to eat during the ‘talks’. I’ve provided potato chips, cake, chocolate chip cookies, chips and guacamole. Enough is enough.”
As I mentioned the ‘talks’ I realized that we were all convened to attend some important discussions among the youth. Lunches and dinners were served there. The days were long, I knew. That’s why I got up early and made breakfast for everyone each morning, then offered them something delicious before bedtime too, as they wound down. I told her that I was tired of taking care of others. I wanted a rest too. She said she’d help cook, thinking she had her opening now. I knew better. She often promises such help, then something comes up and I end up doing the work myself. I said, “Nope.”
Sierra wouldn’t give up her cause. She tried humor, flattery, smiling gratitude, then returned to moping, complaining, and angry disgruntlement. I said, “Stop. Just give it up. I already have the oatmeal planned, with raisins and dates and pecans.” My nephew chimed in, “Awwww”. He wanted her to succeed in talking me into more waffles with whipped cream and strawberries, French toast with powdered sugar, and a batch of peanut butter fudge tonight. I refused. I said, “Go away – both of you. Go get ready, and tell the others. The talks begin in half an hour. We have to go.”
After that I was very grumpy. They were all so ungrateful. This wasn’t some sleepover or party, and I wasn’t just playing host. This was a safe house. They could hang out, joking and laughing, but it didn’t change the fact that they were in danger. I was hiding and shielding them all, protecting them with my own energy. I was up all night making damn sure that they could sleep safe, and they were nit-picking me about the menu. I threw up my hands in exasperation and couldn’t wait for these talks to be done so they’d leave me in peace.
I stomped out of that scene into a grocery store, dragging my first seed husband with me somehow. I took out my frustrations on him. I said, “What do they expect of me?! I even have to do the damn shopping. At least you can help me.” I spelled out exactly what we needed – these six items – and we had to hurry. We had to buy them, get back, fix the food and serve it in time to shuttle them to the meetings. This must have involved folding time. Somehow I also knew that the ‘shopping trip’ was taking no time at all. It was like taking an end of fabric and pulling two pieces together so they made a loop. We’d return with the food the instant we’d left.
My spouse was bumbling the expedition though. He knew that he had two purposes. They were always his purposes, and I’d already spelled them out explicitly upon arrival – help me, and shield me. He is perfectly capable of both, but I can never count on him fulfilling these roles. Instead of helping me, he began browsing the shelves for his own pleasure, picking up cans of chili beans, looking at bags of candies, and wandering away. I confronted him with my hands on my hips. One hand held a hand basket. I shoved it at him, pointed towards the checkout line, and told him to go stand there while I found the last couple things.
He went over as I turned and scurried to aisles for what was missing. Without him to aide me, I was vulnerable to attacks. I could see others shooting out threatening auras and I tried to dodge them. One got me anyways, from behind. I stumbled miserably over to the checkout and found that he’d pulled a typical ‘him’. He didn’t go stand in line. He stood beside the line, like an obedient puppy waiting for his master. I gave him my exasperated look and asked why he was telling everyone to go ahead of him. He played dumb – “I thought you weren’t ready yet.”
I growled and turned to stand in line. He decided that he’d been given the okay to wander as he pleased. He shuffled away and began looking at toys and novelty items. I began to feel the wounds of a dozen people at once, everyone in line, others showing up to check out. They sensed me as an enemy and were sending challenges from every side.
I got upset and began throwing a tantrum. I cried loudly across the store, making a scene, “What are you doing? Aren’t you going to help me? I’m exhausted! I can’t even stand here and hold this hand basket. I have to get out of here. I have to sit down.” He neared me again but he was clueless, playing defensive. “What? I thought you had everything you needed. What do you need me for?”
I’ve had it!
I took our basket and stalked away. He hadn’t shielded me, he’d joined the opposition. I had to get away. I rounded a corner into an empty aisle and winked out of that store without buying the food, right back into the safe house. I didn’t like doing it, but they’d left me no choice. I said to myself, “That’s what I get for doing this the hard way.” I knew that I’d disguised myself and walked into that store where every employee and patron was part of my opposition. I’m used to hiding in plain sight among danger, out of necessity.
I decided I’ve had enough. I could just magic the food into the cupboards. I’ve spent all of these years doing things the way everyone else does, trying to be part of it and fit in, to lend my support, to experience what they do, to listen and feel what it’s really like. No more. I declared that I’m not going out any more. I thought about how I’d left my husband there, and I thought, “Good!” I was giving him a consequence as I’d give to my children. He had no one to whisk him home. He’d have to spend time walking back. I realized that would mean I’d have to transport all of the kids to the meeting. I growled – whenever I try to give consequences to others, they always come back and bite me instead. Grrr!
Don’t everyone thank me at once…
I woke up. I slept 12 hours. How could that be the whole night? I don’t know what happened at the talks. Maybe it’s a secret. I don’t know. I skipped the part where I actually activated the hidden program too. I know that I did it, but I don’t remember it, or understand how it changed everything. How did we end up in a safe house planning secret talks? It’s like we got a re-do and went back in time to prevent the fall. Are Jaya and I the only ones who are aware of it? Will no one even remember it now? I think that they will, but they’ll just chalk it up to another ‘save’ that they were entitled to. What will happen when we’re no longer here to rescue them?
In the morning I told myself that there were ‘24 people’ at my safe house – and I knew that somehow meant that 240 spirits were part of the talks, first seeds. That’s 240 of 390. Where were the rest? Are they opposing us now? That’s 150. Are they split into factions, chaos vs. corruption, along with everyone else? It seems like it. It’s hard to face it, but they must be the ones who seized control of the multiverse, the ones ruling with an iron fist and crushing everything we created.
Why would they want to do that? They were going to annihilate themselves too, everything. The 240 are no less accountable. It takes two to fight. Shame on them all! They’re supposed to be one tribe, a family. I feel so forlorn. Why don’t they care about one another, and the infinite greater good? Have I failed to raise them to care for anyone but themselves? I feel like I’ll never recover from this, no matter the outcome now. I’ll still remember what they’re capable of, what they did. It’s a crying day.
Hallow ~ May 15th, 2016
Throw it all away
Let’s lose ourselves
‘Cause there’s no one left for us to blame
It’s a shame we’re all dying
And do you think you deserve your freedom
How could you send us so far away from home
When you know damn well that this is wrong
I would still lay down my life for you
And do you think you deserve your freedom
No I don’t think you do
There’s no justice in the world
There’s no justice in the world
And there never was