A Dream To Live By 

Christine Hibbard

One morning I woke up feeling awe and great happiness as I recalled the dream had I just had. It was what I call a BIG dream, because the wisdom gained is profound. 

I remember every detail. I was at the Hotel Colorado, located in the Rocky Mountains for a psychotherapy conference.  One of my colleagues, Carol, was telling a small group of us about an old temple she had come across in her walk through a wooded area near the hotel.  Even though our evening meeting was about to start, I decided to go to see the temple before it got dark.

 As I walked where Carol had described, I finally found the temple.  I looked around hesitantly as it was almost dark and no one else was around.  I was nervous but decided to enter. It looked very old and sacred, with small flowered altars on each side of the room lit with candles. Nearing one altar, I saw there was a hole the size of a large bush in the center. Peering inside, I saw a tunnel leading down to a small cave-like room where a soft light was shining. I felt compelled to slide down the smooth surface of the tunnel, and the soft light changed to a brilliant one that filled the tiny room. I felt warm and had no need to hold myself up.  A deep peace settled over me, and I knew I had fallen into the arms of God.

This dream and all I have learned about living life with a sense of joy and aliveness have sustained me ever since.  Whenever I feel challenged, I remember the dream.  The more I live, the less I seem to know.  Life is constantly sending us change and mystery.  But I do feel that I was given this life to learn that every moment we are held in the arms of God, and that is a miracle.  We basically want to love and be loved.  But can we let ourselves be loved—not just by others but by God? This isn’t easy to do, because we judge ourselves and everything else.

I believe that everything—this entire universe—is love and that we can live as that love/unconditional awareness/Christ light, no matter how we each name that soothing energy.  It’s always present and never changes.  We really can’t describe this universal ground of conscious intelligence.  Our own awareness is this universal ground. 

All the experiences growing up and throughout our life shape us.  But in the final analysis, we know that neurological systems are associated with healing and resilience. We experience our lives with joy as well as pain.  Our lives can be a fast river taking us under, making it hard to breathe, or can carry us into the flow of peace and well-being. There is an old saying in Zen Buddhism: “If you fall down on the ground, it is the ground you use to get yourself up again.” Challenges really do become opportunities.  

From my dream and from countless experiences in life, I have learned that grace is always present, even if we don’t open our awareness to it.  Excessive thought, worry, media exposure, and fear can overwhelm us on a daily basis.  Our conditioning throughout life seems to create a false sense of knowing the nature of who we really are and why we suffer so much at certain times.  We are much more than just our personality.  I believe that the fundamental ground of our being is spirit or divine consciousness.

It is possible to be engaged in the world where we feel all of it, but we do not have to change it just because we don’t like it.  Hope is indeed important. I love the definition of hope by the former president of the Czech Republic, Vaclav Havel: “Hope is an orientation of the heart and of the spirit.  It is not the belief that things will work out well, but that things make sense however they turn out.”

I know from my own experience that when I don’t argue with reality, my suffering is less. I feel healing taking place and feel more connected with people and nature.  I have less judgement of others and myself and forgiving others and myself becomes easier.  I can find peace more often in each moment, no matter what terrible thing is happening.  At the same time, this does not mean that we shouldn’t take action to better our conditions. 

Listening more deeply to what people are saying—and for what is not being said—is paramount.  I know I will make mistakes. I hope I will continue to learn from them.  I find myself overwhelmed with gratitude and the grace of life itself.  It has become much easier to understand other people’s perspectives and beliefs, whether or not I adhere to those values myself.  Fear arises in my body and mind, but I hope to move forward with trust that I am held in the arms of God.  Just like my big dream.

Christine Hibbard, PhD, is a clinical psychotherapist, having worked for 45 years in Boulder County and internationallly in postwar zones, working with trauma and Mind, Body Spirit Medicine.  She is also ordained as an Interfaith Minister from a two year seminary program.