For many years, I’ve had recurring dreams where there is a room I go into sometimes, flip the switch, and the light doesn’t come on. “Oh yeah. I forgot. The light doesn’t work. Someday, maybe I’ll fix it. Whatever.” In my dream, I am never upset about the light not working. It’s just the way it is.
A few days ago, I had a similar dream. I was making my bed and packing up to go somewhere. I thought, “Oh, I need to tell someone about the light not working.” Then I found someone and did so. I thought nothing of the dream. After all, nothing happened in the dream. It was all very anticlimactic.
Last night, the significance dawned on me. (The light came on, in oh so many ways.) That last dream was the first time I ever let the darkness be someone else’s problem. The darkness is the lack of intellectual freedom, an absence of the light of rationality, being denied the ability and right to think for oneself, or whatever you want to call it. I was moving on. Whether or not the light ever came on was now none of my concern.
This is all about me leaving conservative, organized religion. It is about me reclaiming my brain.
Looking back, it bothers me that, in the dream, the light never coming on was never problematic. I just spent less and less time in the room, so it never really affected me. Problem, sort of, solved.
My spirituality is intact and my thinking is clearer than ever.