I was looking through notebooks last night and came upon a note about a dream I had a few weeks ago. There was a tiny green parrot in my throat and I was singing. I woke up elated. I had no idea what it meant, but it felt like a gift. I wonder if my habit of going with my foster granddaughter to a pet store with lots of exotic birds, which I love to converse with while she looks at rabbits and cats is part of the source. And perhaps the other is my focus on right speech. Perhaps I was dreaming that at some point in my practice I will be voicing beauty and joy. Certainly the parrots and cockatoos and speaking birds in the shop delight me. I could stand in front of a cage and singsong hello all day. Or wave to the huge white parrot who waves back at me.
I know trusting what comes out of my mouth is a work in progress, and requires dilligence. But there might come a day when I open up my throat with complete confidence that only love and joy and respect for others will express themselves through my utterances. And the dream is a worthy goal.
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