The pattern of my life

Dream #1: The pattern of my life

Dream: I am shown a white sheet of paper with a diagram. The whole is separated in two, left and right sides, representing about 10 or 12 rectangles in all, with writings. I understand that I am being told about the stages of my life, starting at the bottom.

I notice that towards the bottom, the second row on both the left and the right side, there are two rectangles whose writing is very pale. In the other tiles, the writing is more homogeneous. I ask why and they make me understand that these are my dreams. I also understand that these are periods of my life where it was not easy. I look briefly at the whole picture and I turn my attention to the one at the top because I know that it is the end of my life.

The writing on the left side is normal, the color is ok, but the rectangle on the right side is all white. There is no writing... I am near a car because we have just arrived. There are children that we must go to carry to Andréanne. I wish that they let me take care of the youngest child (approximately 1 or 2 years). A young man takes him and gives him to me in my arms.

I walk with the child who seems a bit sleepy, but suddenly he says the word "Romania". A little surprised, I look at him and ask: "Did you say "Romania"? He signals me that he did. I go back inside the house wondering why he said "Romania".

I am in Andréanne's kitchen with Guy. I was washing dishes. Guy was looking for something. He finally found what he was looking for. It was the plate that went in the microwave. We had given it to Andréanne. I thought, "He should have asked me, because I knew where it was." I wash it, because I realize it's a little dirty. Then I said to him, "You can take it to him. He said, "No, put it on the counter. I deduce that Andréanne is resting. The kitchen is a bit of a mess.

We are about to leave and Guy, who is in front of me, says: "Yesterday I thought about suicide (Guy had already attempted suicide a few years before I met him) and another day too". He told me that he had been in expensive therapy and that he had been advised to think about it for 5 to 10 minutes a day.

When he tells me about this I think of UCM and I say to myself, "Oh, it would have been so good for him to go to UCM. I look at him and say, "Knowing you, you must have meditated only twice since your therapy. And he says, "Yes," with a slight smile.