Exposure

Following up on the last post of the two vivid dreams, I had a third, related to my teacher.  Again, it reached to the heights of profoundness in my memory of dreams.  It is one that I can still write about months later because its impact on me ran so deeply that it’s etched in my permanent memory.

There I was, meeting up with my teacher and one of her friends whom I did not recognize in the dream.  They had spent the day out capturing lots of photography when I ran into them.  My teacher was SO delighted with the amount of film she had used and the work she had done.  However, the mood rapidly changed as we were somehow informed that the photographs they had taken were not allowed, they were illegal or prohibited or something along those lines.  The reasoning behind this was never made clear to me, nor who was the one making this decision.

I began to get upset.  I started to feel slightly angry and distraught, because the implications were that the film was to be destroyed before we could ever get a glimpse into the magic of what had been captured.  I could not believe it!  It was as if someone had torn my heart out, knowing how much work and pride had gone into this project by my teacher.  I was devastated, as well, at the thought of the pain that would bring to her.  I did not want her to have to feel that.

To make the scenario even more intriguing, my teacher carried the large wad of film over to me, looked me in the eyes and told me directly that I was the one who would have to destroy it.  Unbelievable.  I felt flooded with dread and pure anguish that I just could not understand.  I desperately did not want to be the one responsible for bringing that kind of misery to someone.  But I was the one who had to tear open that protective packaging keeping the film safe and expose it to the light.  Wow, what powerful imagery this reflected from the reality of accelerated healing I was experiencing in the waking world.  It was understood that I would then be required to place the exposed film in a bucket of clear, still water.

I broke down into a sobbing pile of limp bones at the feet of my teacher, clinging tightly to her left leg in the hopes that she would not put that kind of responsibility upon me.  I felt unable to breathe.  She lovingly and reassuringly put one hand on my back, in a gesture that conveyed the sense that all would be OK.

Shortly after this, I found out my teacher received her MFA in photography and that she is a profound bringer of loving guidance to my life, as well as touching countless others.  I am blessed for this message I received and for having her in my reality, as well.

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