Stay Out of the Pig Pen!

The process of simplifying one's life is full of challenges, but simplifying it through one's relationships? Where does one start? I say start where you are and with your unhealthiest relationships. You know, the ones where you feel taken for granted, ignored, unheard, unsupported. You feel that if you don't take care of the relationship, no one will. Let them go. Clean house here too and make room for the new, vibrant, loving, stimulating and fulfilling relationships to come. Yes, they will too come. I promise you they will. 

Aw, shut up already with your new-agey, airy-fairy, hypocritical psycho-babble!

Okay, okay... easier said than done. You have a point, but if I can do it... and I believe I can... then anyone can. It's time. I've been doing this with friendships for a long time. I've gotten quite good at it, actually. But I admit, romantic relationships are another story altogether. You're talking to the former Queen of Rescue Marriages. I thought I was cured after the last one, had learned my lessons, smashed my crown, grown stronger, developed a firm grip on my self-worth and put all that rescuing nonsense behind me. But lately I find myself making an awful lot of excuses for a man who's had me feeling less than good about myself on a regular basis. I must say though, some very good things have come from this experience.

Each time I tried to walk away I'd experience a giant growth spurt in a healthy new direction. I signed up for my first mini-triathlon, something I'd dreamed of doing for years. I forgave people I'd wanted to forgive for a very long time. I became engaged to myself at Peace Garden the day I signed up for the triathlon. My rockstar-awesome dog, Kylee was there. I donned my grandmother's heavy, silver, spoon ring. It feels good on my finger - solid, steady and strong.

Then I prayed a nice, Agnostic, made-up prayer that I'd find a way to finally travel abroad, slut up my tragic virgin passport and marry myself in London. All this marrying one's self business was inspired by a blog post a friend sent me in the midst of some substandard boyfriend turmoil. Last night my nice, Agnostic, made-up prayer was answered. My roommate and I are London-bound in May! But wait, there's more! We're now also visiting Paris for a day! I, the woman who has been married at City Hall, in a cheesy Vegas chapel and in a dumpy courthouse, am marrying myself at the Eiffel Tower in the City of Light!

My life has become so truly magical lately, it reminds me of when I watched The Secret for 90 days!

But even with all of this magic swirling about me, I still had one foot stuck in the muck. Ancient bad habits from past unhealthy relationships were rearing their ugly heads again. Part of me wanted to break free of this self-destructive behavior forever, just walk away. Another part of me was scared this half-assed excuse for a relationship was the best I'd ever do. That part of me kept checking my phone for sweet apologies, epiphanies, invitations and heartfelt confessions like a half-starved dog chewing on an empty package of Pupperonis. 

So it's no surprise really, that I had a very disturbing yet illuminating nightmare in the midst of all this joy and excitement over finally getting to travel abroad, my paperback coming out and even being asked to co-write a book by one of my heroes. I was horrified by this dream - the absolute worst one since the infamous life-changing mouse dream at hypnotherapy school, almost eight years ago. Without a doubt, this one is also a life-changer. Relationships of a romantic nature are the one area where my life is still stuck. I was horrified all over again when I remembered the nightmare this morning and recounted it to my roommate. Despite my hypnotic dreamwork training, it didn't dawn on me until later that it wasn't about my dog at all, but about myself. I love my dog so much, kissing her upwards of 40 times a day, that recalling the graphic images from my nightmare just made me want to hug and kiss her until neither one of us could take any more.

My dog is a rescue (shocking, I know) who had been sentenced to death by shotgun for biting a little girl. She loved that little girl, had grown up with her, so it had to be a misunderstanding, but she had two days to find a new home. I wasn't looking for a pet, but we've been inseparable ever since. Good dogs just happen to you. Everyone insists she is not the same dog at all now. She is, hands down, the most affectionate creature I've ever known. The absolute highlight of her week is playing with my niece and nephews.

As completely obsessed as she is with me 24/7 (I swear animals know when they've been rescued from death row) she prefers some personal space for sleeping. Sometimes she'll make an exception and we'll sleep back to back, which is something I miss about marriage, the security of someone next to you. Usually though, she prefers to sleep near my feet. Last night was a very unusual exception. She fell asleep lying on her back, right up against me with my arm curled around her.

I dreamt we were out for a walk. (I have to switch to present-tense now in order to write out the dreamwork - I promise you, the dreamwork book will be coming out in 2013) She's off her leash, as nature intended, when we come upon a yard with lots of animals. I let her explore and play because I've watched her chase bunnies, squirrels, raccoons, cats, other dogs and even tombstones and it's just a game to her. She never has any intention of catching them. She just loves the thrill of the chase... okay maybe not with squirrels - hates 'em. Everything is fine, though. I'm laughing as I watch her antics, until she jumps into the pig pen. Then everything goes horribly wrong.

The pigs are huge and they're attacking her! They're trying to kill her, to eat her! I'm screaming her name, but it's too late. She can't get away! I jump in the pen and violently, mercilessly stomp all over the pigs until I'm able to tear her away from them and get her out of the pen. I have her on the ground outside of the pen and she's cold and covered in mud. She's not moving and most of her head is gone! Her entire muzzle jaw and face are gone. In front of her ears is just a big, bloodless, gaping hole. I cradle her against me and rock her, telling her she's going to be okay, that I'll get her a mask, that it doesn't matter , because I will always love her.

But I wake up, panicked because I know she needs a face to eat, to live. Then I tell myself we can put a feeding tube down her throat. Finally, I realize she's okay and still asleep in my arms, but twitching and whimpering. It seems so strange, but she's having a nightmare too. (I swear on my father's grave this is true) I wake her up and kiss her repeatedly, telling her what a good girl she is and that she's okay, that we're okay. I start to drift off again, so she gets up and finds herself a cozy spot in the comforter near my feet.

When I recounted the dream to my roommate, I was still thinking it was all about Kylee and trying to puzzle it out. Was I worried about that benign lump on her neck again? No. Was I worried about losing her? What was it? Why was her face gone? Why such gore and terror? Then I knew I had to do some dreamwork to find the answers.

Kylee: I am pure love. I am the pure love within your own heart, what is at the very core of your self. I love to run and play and explore. I love to be free.

Animals outside of the pig pen: We love to run, play and explore too. We all treasure our freedom. We are happy and healthy and capable of great love.

Pigs: We are trapped and angry. We are dangerous. We are not evil. We do not think we chose this life of inhumane captivity. So we are mad as hell. We're also starved for love and affection. We will tear apart and devour any living thing we can reach.

Sheri to self: I'm watching my dog being eaten alive by the pigs. I knew better than to let her off the leash so close to them. I'm a bad mother. I should've protected her! It's all my fault she's dying! What am I going to do without her?! I want to crush those pigs! I have to save her!

Faceless Kylee to Sheri: I am not going to be okay, like you say. I need my face. My eyes... my smile, just like yours, were given to me specifically to attract certain people, animals and beings over the course of this lifetime. How can I connect with anyone if I have no eyes, the windows to my soul? How can I express myself, other than by wagging my tail? Pigs are dangerous, because they can render us unable to be who we were meant to be out in the world. They wound us, and we are resigned to be the walking wounded, going through life wearing masks, no one ever recognizing us or our our true selves. Our true beauty remains hidden from everyone behind our masks. No one can see our soul, our spirit. They only see the masks and the wounds. Stay out of the pig pen! You know when you are near pigs and in danger of being wounded or defaced! The danger in playing with pigs can be seductive, I know. They can be lots of fun for a bit, rolling in the mud with you and making you laugh because you've brought some much-needed light into their lives. Your heart always goes out to the pigs, because they are so misunderstood, and their temper and hopelessness doesn't seem to be their fault. They appear trapped. Your empathy for them runneth over. But you cannot save them. Not ever. You have tried many times to set them free with your love and compassion, and sometimes you lost your own face for a while, spending years behind masks of pain and distrust. The pigs must rescue themselves. They have a choice. Everyone does. They are smart. They could leave that pen if they really wanted to. But they've grown so used to being bitter and angry that it's become a comfort, and they take no responsibility for their own misery. You do not belong with those creatures! I don't ever want to see you near their pen again. You have so many brilliant adventures ahead of you. Don't waste another second with those pigs. Wish the pigs well. Then release them and all their problems from your heart for good!

Me to the pigs: This is so hard for me. I feel your pain and misery, but Kylee's right. I can't save you. It's not my job and I have plenty of self-worth without ever saving anyone. I don't want any part of me to die trying to save you either. I leave you to your path and your lessons, and I return to my own path. It's okay for me to run, play and explore, but I know a dangerous pig when I see one. I can always tell by their actions, what is in their heart in regards to me and my health and well-being. I do see their bitterness and resentment, and from now on pigs, I will not make excuses for you. There is never any excuse for hurting others - period. I would never allow you to treat any of my nieces this way. Take care of yourselves. Take good care of yourselves. It is not my job. My energy, love and affection are needed and will be appreciated elsewhere with beings who are capable of gratitude and reciprocation.

I am where I am on my path right now for a reason, just as you are where you are on your path for a reason. I release you from my heart and mind.

Pigs: It's okay. You have been a pig too, at times. We are where we are. It's okay for you to move on. We do not belong together. You have our blessing. Peace.

Sheri to Kylee: I'm remembering Margaret Cho. I'm the one that I want! I want to meet my greatest self - my unencumbered, mask-less, true self! I'm ready! Amen!

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It's interesting that I would never refer to any men as pigs, but my subconscious mind has no problem with the label. This dream was such an eye-opener.