Last night, Jeff had a visionary dream featuring a conversation with the rarest of all wild creatures, the elusive inner Romanator.
Let me set the stage. We’ve been working at a blueberry farm in Florida for a week, and last night, there was an impromptu team building session after dinner featuring Sacred Geometry cards. These are sort of like Tarot cards, but more mathy; the divine observed in everyday shapes, patterns, and relationships of the microcosm to the macrocosm. Stay with me here.
I palmed the oracle deck, holding a question in my mind as instructed. Surprisingly, this was not Why am I not in bed after weeding blueberry bushes for 6 hours today?, or How long does one coat of sunscreen last?, or even I wonder how many red ant bites did I get today? I went all in with my old standby, Will Roman will be independent someday? (For the record, I have very few original thoughts.)
And I fanned out the deck in front of me face down, choosing my card by magnetic pull, Ouija board-style. (<— it’s science.) Then came the readings.
I picked Andean Shaman, which is eerie because in primitive cultures, children like Roman are believed to have a direct connection to the divine and are selected to walk the red path of Shamanism. The last line of the reading was “Open your heart…laugh out loud and welcome the strength of your true essence as a vessel of light.” Very Romanesque.
Jeff’s card was called Swallow the Sun:* “Dreams, whether in sleep or the musings of reverie, will offer clues to your internal process. What messages have your dreams offered lately?”
Session concluded, we brushed teeth and settled our farmer-tanned bodies into bed, asleep within minutes. I rarely remember my dreams,** but Jeff often has vivid ones, and in last night’s he actually spoke directly to Roman, who answered completely matter of factly.
They were out in public and Roman was having a meltdown, so Jeff had picked him up to carry him away to the car. Frustrated, Jeff said, almost like speaking to himself, “Why are you so stressed and scared?” Then Roman cogently answered “Because I don’t know what they’ll say.”
Sensing that he was in a dream, but also driven to have even a fictional conversation with his son, Jeff forged on: “Roman, you are so smart and funny, why don’t let other people see that side of you more often?” Dream Roman looked him in the eye and answered “My intelligence helps to hide me.”
I’m not sure about you, but I’d wake up from that with sweaty palms. Maybe from now on, we should stick to the Magic 8 ball? It is definitely so.
*Sounds dark, am I right?
**Unless it regards the recurring childhood nightmare of being a paper thin girl running around the yard while my dad was mowing. Not known for my grace, I tripped in front of the mower and repeatedly woke up before THE MULCHING. ><