So, to compensate for this underlying squirm, the other night, Nancy returned to me in a dream. She appeared as a child's toy - a worn, stuffed animal. I saw the toy, recognized that it was really Nancy, and I immediately picked her up and showered her with affection. She came to life in my arms. And I understood from this encounter, that the parts of us which are left behind are not withered and discarded permanently. All it takes to revive a shriveled self is to embrace it again.
Once I understood the message, I awoke. My heart was racing, there were jitters in my system. The night was dark, cold, still. Only dreams of Nancy do this to me. This is how I know she is my totem, my guide, my messenger.
I'm going to assume that everyone has a similar guide. But do you all realize it? Strange, that a rabbit who visits me in lucid dreams is the strongest comfort I have. When the rest of my emotional self crumbles to the floor, along comes the hippity-hop of proshness to make me feel better. Yeah. It's really not that weird.
