Dreaming

I am a pupil at school. Even though I am an adult, I am hoping that I won’t feel overwhelmed like I did when I was at school as a child. I am outside; it is break time. There is a male teacher with grey hair whom I feel a great attraction to. It’s not sexual; it is a deep spiritual love, although my need to physically be with him is vast. I am at his side constantly, there to help him if he wants it. This man is older than me and has a wisdom that I really admire. He makes me feel good about myself, just by his presence. It is the end of the break; I go back into class. The teacher goes off the school grounds to get something, but I know he will be back very soon. In the classroom, it is going to be our history lesson. The teacher is our history teacher; we are waiting for him. We get a message asking if one of us can go and let him in. I go; there is an unspoken understanding in the class that it will be me; it always is. I go down a long, light corridor to a set of doors. As I look through the doors, I can see a workman on one side, beyond him a gate, and beyond that, the teacher. The workman says this way can not be opened and to go right around the other side of the school and in the other set of doors. The teacher was hoping I would be able to give him an easier way in, but I can’t. He’ll have to go the long way. I wonder if he will return or if he will go home for the day instead; I sense the latter.

I sit in the cafeteria, which is just by the door that is blocked. It is very light and airy and has a nice feeling to it. There is a female assistant serving people. It isn’t busy, just nice and relaxing. I sit at a white table on a white chair with people I know while I wait to see if the teacher returns. I feel relaxed and happy and surrounded by love.

I am in a house, in a room that is in the centre but has no defined purpose. Tom is there; he is older and wiser, and I feel an attraction to him. He is relaxed, calm and centred. I go into the bathroom, which resembles Tom’s downstairs bathroom. I wet my hands and walk through into the study. Ray/Tom is sitting on a dining chair in the doorway, facing out. I go behind him and wipe my wet hands on his cheeks; his skin feels good. I recognise the softness and warmth of it; I have missed it. I love him very much. Ray doesn’t mind at all. We have a deep spiritual bond.