Cinderella

On a few occasions in my life, I've had repetitive dreams that provided important clues to my emotional and spiritual landscape.

Clare Galway Fransciscan Priory, County Clare, Ireland, photo: Andy Bruner

Just a couple of months ago, back in December, I started dreaming that I was Cinderella. 

On a number of occasions, I had this same dream and I would wake up saying to myself, "I am the emotional Cinderella."

Cinderella, the orphaned servant girl: lonely, overworked, unappreciated. 

My brain was clearly trying to tell me something about my emotional workload, and while I didn't take it all literally, I did take seriously that my emotional self was not feeling well cared for.

My friend Patty, whose story I shared with you a couple of years ago, was in her final days of life with ALS during November and December.

My spiritual director said to me, "I'm worried about how you will be when this is all over." 

And my brain was saying: "Cinderella, Cinderella, Cinderella."

Patty died on February 6, and her memorial service was this past Friday. 

Richard Rohr says, "Everything that passes away is reborn into the reality of God."

And while this truth is a comfort, I am still left with the hard emotional work that Emily Dickinson calls "the bustle in the house."

The Bustle in a House

The Morning after Death

Is solemnest of industries

Enacted opon Earth –

The Sweeping up the Heart

And putting Love away

We shall not want to use again

Until Eternity –

Cinderella indeed.

I've adjusted my work load accordingly, taken more naps, and done fewer emotionally taxing things when possible. 

So for those of you who were wondering why the blog has been quiet, this is the reality of life right now.

I trust in Love.

I trust the process.

I trust that healing will come.

I may be quiet a while longer yet.