A friend says "My goal is to make every person I interact with shine."
"Hmmm." I say, thinking hard. "I am picturing clinic. My goal is more to see if I can help each person feel a little better. Or make better health decisions if they really want to though sometimes they don't."
"Well, this isn't clinic."
I think to myself: you said every person.
And I think about the shadow. The shadow or mirror of the ideal. If I try to make every person shine brightly, what is the shadow of that? If I see the brightest parts, do I banish the darkest parts? Am I putting pressure on them to only shine for me? Am I denying half the person? Am I only loving that bright part?
Angels and zombies.
Before this phone conversation, I am with zombies. Parts of bodies are dropping off, but they are not attacking me. I am not scared. I am comfortable with them. I am not sure if I am one of them or if I am just not worried. They want to be near me, but because they want to be loved, not because they are attacking. They just want me to love them and I do.
I wake up. And then the phone call.
That is the first time I have dreamed of zombies. Ever. I dream of angels falling, and now of zombies, but the zombies just want love.
We all want love and to love. And to love wholly and be loved wholly. Dark and light, shining and black as pitch and everything in between.