"It was so real!" I told my daughter. Less than an hour awake, part of me was still in the dream, and I was grateful.

I remained open to hear the message.

Many times in the past, the message moved through, gently blowing beyond the reach of my consciousness. My analytical, psychological approach, "thinking cap," and need to hold onto the storyline created more static than clarity. While racing to grasp my inner motion picture, my energetic vibration became more high-speed wobble than stealth. Thus, I'd unintentionally disperse the dream vibrations, sending them back into the ether. The connection evaporated, and messages returned unopened.

So now, I opt to feel in instead of figure out.

I welcome and cherish the opportunity to untether my mind and flow with my soul, unencumbered by the dense vibrations of my physical body and the high-speed traffic of our material world.

In this space, I am attuned to the messages in my dreams, especially those from my ancestors.

My dream felt real because it was real, and I have learned to receive and attune its gifts. This message is a cherished gift.

She came to me in my dream, our vibrational worlds overlapping in the sacred spaces of my soul. “See," she whispered. And there, I saw the motion picture of us; it rolled with light leaks and inconsistent speed, blending technologies of old and modern worlds.

In each slide, I saw images of us from my childhood: her palpable adoration, my bliss and security. Then, these same images reproduced, their content transformed: she is the same, me as I am now, the adult woman she helped anchor to hope, self-advocacy, and love.

In my dream, I wept, my tears bearing mirrored images of the worth she forever saw in me. "I am always within reach," she whispered. Awakening, I wept. Each tear, a salty universe embodying our vibrational existences, merging now and then shaping our ancestral forever.

I replied, "I'm so grateful we exist."