I dreamed I had been alive for 144 billion years. That I had lived literally millions of lives. There were an infinite number of planets teeming with life and flowing with the consciousness of God. And since in the dream this universe endlessly repeated itself–I had been every sort of being. I had been a bum, a race car driver. I had been a murderer and I had been a doctor. I had died as a baby and lived to be an old woman of a hundred and seventeen years. I had been a slave and I had been a king. I had been a bank robber and I had been a founder of a children’s home. I had been a mercenary soldier and I had been a monk in a monastery.
When I woke up, I remembered there were at least 144,000 things I had not yet been, some ‘bad’ some ‘good’. When I woke up I realized that all of these dream lives had been valid, that I had learned something important from each one of them, whether I had been famous or whether I had been infamous. When I woke up I realized it was no longer necessary to wish I could have been a famous actor or a great athlete. I had already been that–or would be that in the future. All those lives!
When I woke up, I realized that my life right now, was and is, completely valid. Indeed I could be nothing else but exactly what I was and am, no reason to belittle myself or be jealous of anyone else. When I woke up I realized I was okay–and so was everyone else and I…and I…loved myself for the first time…just a little bit.
And I…loved my brothers and my sisters for the first time…just a little bit. Realized they were just a part of myself I had been hiding from–in another form playing another role I had played or would play one day. I had no reason to hate them and every reason to love them. I had no reason to hate myself and every reason to love myself.
When I woke up I wanted to dream that dream again and again. It was a very good dream.