We are about to be age regressed 30 years.
I think to myself that if we are regressed here, we may end up in mid air and come crashing down, so I suggest that we leave immediately. We rush into the elevator and slide down to the ground floor.
The woman wants to go to her apt to get some stuff she wants. As we start to go into the foyer of her place, we see some construction guys come in with their tools and equipment.
We hide behind a big brick column, and decide to do our regress thing in an outside field instead.
As we leave, I see my own apt building start to unbuild –
*whoosh* the windows were all gone…
*whoosh* the ceilings disappeared…
…and so on; and I could plainly hear a crackling sound as a fire blasted high into the disappearing structure.
We go to a secret meadow nearby.
We lie down in the soft grass.
I have all these memories – hundreds and hundreds of them – of my life, all scattered little tiny scenarios. I try to figure out what age I want to regress to.
But I see that if I do, I’d not-meet some of my favorite people, and not-do some of the things I loved or was proud of, or that were huge lessons for me during the last 30 years.
I decide that there are only 2 options: erase all of it, and start over; or stop the process and cherish every memory and every person and circumstance.
I chose the latter.
It was clearly obvious that sending love to every part of my life, my body, my self, my friends and people I’d met, and every last thing I’d done, was the only way. It felt Right.
I woke up.
© Angela Treat Lyon 2016 All rights reserved