Garden Party

This piece of writing was originally published on Substack. See the original post on Substack for an audio voiceover of me reading the post out loud. Or just read the writing below.

Garden Party

For this post, I am sharing another dream. Experiencing this dream left me with such a feeling of being cared for that I want to share it on. It feels like there is someone out there who needs to read about this dream. Maybe some of that sense of support that I experienced can extend to you as well by reading this.

On the evening before this dream, I had battled with sudden bouts of anxiety and fear. I was sitting on the toilet (one of few places to have a moment for myself when living with a toddler) and said these fears out loud, since I had read somewhere that expressing them can help to dissolve the fears. I don’t remember the exact words I said, but it was something along the lines of this: I am scared that life will not carry me. What if I am wrong in believing that there is a support structure below me? What if the truth is that there is no support available, and I am truly alone, and that I have to do it all on my own, without any kind of support?

That is the place where my mind was at on that night. Looking back on those words now, they almost seem ridiculous, and I cannot remember what it was I was afraid of being so alone with. I was just deep inside a cloud of fear. That is how fear can be. There is a sense of isolation and disconnect that can wash over us sometimes, when deep in a feeling such as sorrow or fear, and while in the emotion, it is hard to see beyond it.

In that mysterious way that sometimes happens, I got direct feedback on my expression of fear on that same night, while asleep. This is the story of that dream.

In the dream, I am in a realm that consists of wooden houses that each have wild gardens growing around them. The gardens grow between the houses too. There are high trees, flowers and bushes. Fruit trees and berry bushes. Birdsong fills the air, and if you look closely, there are all kinds of insects going about their business. Bees buzzing between the flowers. Butterflies fluttering gently in the soft wind, with wings in the strangest, most colorful patterns you can imagine, but also simpler ones, in mild pastel hues. This place is very alive, and thriving. There are humans living here too, in the houses between the gardens, or in tree houses built into the strongest trees, with wooden walkways between them, gently swaying in the breeze.

Every night there are garden parties in the gardens. And now it is dusk time, and the parties are starting. Lanterns hanging over the gardens add a golden orange glow to the scene. I am attending a garden party, in one of the gardens, and am drinking something bubbly out of a champagne flute. There is a buffet table at the back, brimming with delicacies, all from these same gardens. Grilled vegetables, freshly picked fruits, and honey to pour over the berries for dessert.

People are surrounding me. They are dressed fabulously, and so am I. I am a social butterfly in this dream, flitting this way and that, but I feel that the socializing is starting to feel stressful and overwhelming. It feels as if the people stick to me like flies to a flypaper, and want something from me that I cannot give them. They want so much from me.

I try to stay polite and listen to everyone who is asking for my attention. It is also a privilege, to have their attention aimed at me. I try to remind myself of this, and succeed somewhat, basking in all the attention, when I suddenly notice a woman, all the way in the back of the garden, behind the house. She is not focusing on me at all. In fact, she is not interacting with anyone. At least, not with the humans. She is focused on the garden itself, admiring the flowers and plants. I see a smile play on her lips, as she watches a bee buzzing in and out of some bluebell-flowers. She is a graceful, beautiful vision, but all I feel is shocked that she isn't giving me any attention at all. I have now gotten so used to the attention, that her behavior feels like an anomaly that us upsetting the order of things. But I cannot do anything about it now. There are other people wanting my attention, so for the rest of the evening I focus on them instead, taking part in small talk and trying to give everyone a bit of my time. Scattered all around, but never staying long in one place, never quite landing.

The next evening, I go back to the same garden, for another garden party. Some people are coming my way, but this time, I steer my steps directly towards the woman who is standing apart, still facing in the other direction, away from me. Her lack of interest in me has bothered me. I have been thinking about it the whole previous night and day, and have decided to confront her about it. So I ask her: "Why are you not showing me any attention?" As I say this, the woman turns to face me, and to my surprise, I see her smiling kindly and warmly. "There are enough people showing you attention" she says, matter-of-factly, and continues: "Not giving you attention was my way of standing out from the crowd. Instead of chasing you, I wanted you to come to me." Her words make sense, and I calm down. Suddenly I realize how ridiculous my behaviour was, and what a self-centered thing it was to confront someone about not showing me attention. Now I feel embarrased, but the woman’s gentle smile makes me feel like I have no need to be embarrased. It is alright. Her patient gaze upon me is like the gaze a mother might give to her little child. It is a kind and comforting gaze.

We start walking together in the garden, silently at first, just watching the beautiful flowers, plants and trees all around us. As we walk, we somehow transition into a different realm. We are still at the garden party, but now there are no other people here, just us. The energy is much calmer now. Slower. We walk by the side of the house, and start slowly heading towards the garden at the back. The woman tells me that she wants to give me some advice. I am curious to hear what he has to say, so I stay silent, and listen while she talks.

The woman tells me that life is truly carrying me. I do not need to be afraid. She says, that she is hoping for me to believe her, so that I can dare to surrender to my life, and live it to the fullest.When I am open and alive and unafraid, I can more easily live my life in such a way that I do the things that come most naturally to me. And that would be the best for all.

Before I have time to comment on the woman’s advice, she takes my hand, and draws me with her, deeper into the garden behind the house. At this, I finally understand that this is the woman’s garden, and that she is in fact the host of this garden party. And I did not even know it.

Here, in the deeper parts of the garden, the plants and trees are growing more wildly, with vines climbing up the tree trunks, and up the back of the house, and with wild strawberries half-hidden under the green leaves. Old, noble trees watch over the garden. Drops of dew have formed onto the leaves on the ground, shining in the dusk light like tiny pearls. Instead of a lawn, this part of the garden looks more like a meadow, with wild flowers growing exactly how they want to.

I get a sudden urge to lay down on the ground and rest. The woman seems to notice my wish, because she smiles and waves her hand in an encouraging gesture. I lie down on the ground. The earth feels soft and comforting below me. The woman tells me: “Can you not feel the earth, carrying you all the time - day in and day out? It is right here, carrying you, whether you notice it or not.” I close my eyes, and feel how very supported I am, in a very concrete way, by the earth.

When I have rested for a while, I sit back up, and stay sitting on the ground, watching the wildflowers and wild berries that surround me. Suddenly I notice that the dusk time has somehow transitioned into morning. Gentle rays of sun are shining down on the wild garden.

As I gaze upon all the blossoming greenery, lit up by the sun, the woman explains: “These plants are doing what comes naturally to them. They are growing in their natural way. It may look wild and unorganized, but it is the reason why they are so strong. If you follow their example, you can grow in a similar way, doing what feels most natural to you, and what you enjoy. You do not need to force anything.”

These words stir up something inside of me, and I can’t help but question her. So I ask: “But there are things that we just have to do, that we don’t enjoy or want to do, right? Sometimes it can feel difficult, and there are things we have to struggle through, and work hard in order to do.”

The woman gazes upon me with that patient, motherly gaze. She answers: “Yes, there are things that are challenging to do, and sometimes you do need to struggle. But there is a difference between things that, while still being challenging, are yours to do; and things that are challenging, because they are not actually yours to do. The things that are natural to you to do can also be challenging and feel like a struggle, because that is how you grow, by going through it. And then there are things that create such a counter-reaction in your whole being that you know it is not yours to do.”

I am trying to understand the distinction she has drawn, but I still feel a bit unsure, so I ask: “How can I tell the difference?” and the woman answers:

“You can feel it in your soul.”

Again, I feel the urge to ask the woman to clarify how I can do that, but deep inside of me there resides an understanding that this is not something that she can tell me how to do, and that yes, my soul does indeed know this. But how to better hear what the soul already knows, is up to me to figure out.

I gaze upon the woman, wondering for a moment why she is doing this for me, and why she wanted to give me this advice. But I can feel her loving and powerful, but also gentle, energy. She is glowing with goodness and goodwill for me, and I believe her words.

The sun is high in the sky now. It is day. I can feel that our meeting is drawing to a close, so I stand up, and thank the woman for her advice. But before I leave, I ask her who she is. She smiles, and seems to shrug her shoulders. I get the feeling that she is a being of many forms. This just happens to be the shape she chose this time, for our particular meeting. The woman answers, simply, with a smile playing at the corners of her mouth: “Mother Earth.”

I woke up from this dream feeling loved and supported. That feeling followed me for many days. And now, I want to share the message to you as well.

You are loved and supported.

And whether you notice it or not, the Earth is carrying you.