Last night, I dreamed I was dead. Not in a grim, horrible way. More in a Patrick Swayze in Ghost kind of way. My main experience was frustration, because it took me a while to realize that no one could hear or see me, and they kept swooshing through my body.
When I woke up this morning I was THRILLED! Before my coffee, even. 😉 I dropped the kids at school, and went for a fast 5 mile run. My legs were burning, I was winded beyond belief because I was pushing, and I did not care. It felt great. Obviously, dreaming about being dead agrees with me.
Plus, Halloween comes Monday and it makes sense for my contemplation and philosophical attitude before each birthday to give me a Scrooge/Dickens lesson.
“Our dead are never dead to us, until they are forgotten.” ~ George Eliot
“A thing is not necessarily true because a man dies for it.” ~ Oscar Wilde
“Unbeing dead isn’t being alive.” ~ e.e. cummings
“When the game is over, the king and the pawn go into the same box.” ~ Italian proverb
“The day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking toward me, without hurrying.” ~ Jean Cocteau
“There is no death. Only a change of worlds.” ~ Chief Seattle
The veil will grow thin on Monday, my friends. Carve your pumpkins, wear your disguises, and remember how your ancestors used to mark the day. 🙂
Blessings to you all…