Last night I dreamt about the Buddhist altar we’ve assembled in our living room.
On it are statues, ancient tsa-tsas, a bell and djorje, assorted photos, a Tibetan text, some small stupas, some kusha grass from when I took formal refuge, protection cords, a small sea shell, candles, a mani stone and other meaningful odds-and-ends.
In my dream, this altar is a well-spring of Dharma power, a source of light and wholesome energy, from which my practice is not only being nourished, but kept alive.
But here’s the thing:
In my dream, instead of simply sitting before the altar, or even cleaning/dusting it, I would take it apart, carefully, piece-by-piece, and then slowly put it back together.
It was in the putting back together that its power would emerge and envelop me.
***
As is sometimes the case with our nighttime dreams, I believe there’s a message here, one of attention and process . . . patience too.
Perhaps something of this resonates with you.
~If so, neither grief or a broken heart, or fear, precludes you from considering this.