There was this dream I had long ago that I wish I could have again. The hues were in grays and blues, very dreary. I was in Renaissance garb, complete with the big wig and dress. I was standing inside the upper floor of a stone house, looking outside a window. I was melancholy, apprehensive, and waiting, for what I don’t know. A man suddenly appeared on the other side of the window, on a ladder. I gasped. The stranger looked me straight in the eyes and told me everything would be ok. He then reached out with both hands and tenderly held my face. At that moment, a warmth surged through my entire body. It was as if I had been putting up a fight and walling everything out before, but now I was willingly surrendering - my self, my life to him and I was no longer afraid because I knew he would take care of me. A riot started in the street. He had to leave then, telling me that he would come back. I believed him.
I wish I could have that feeling again. A freeze-frame of that moment without anxiety, weariness, fear, anger, or sadness. To be able to trust entirely. To know that I am completely and utterly safe. It makes me wonder if that is what babies feel at the very beginning.