Sunday 5:30 a.m. Dreamed last night of a post heart surgery recovery center -- though it bore no resemblance to such a dry dull hospital name. It wasn't about recovery either, getting covered over again. Nope. It was about transformation: physical, emotional, mental, interpersonal, spiritual.
Not a single completely enclosed space in the whole place. Each space led naturally and curvaceously into another, sometimes indoors, sometimes outdoors. A person was in each space to assist the heart wounded into the transformative actions for that area. You could freely wander from space to space. No being stuck in one dang room. "Staff" stayed still; "patients" freely moved.
Joy was there. No greater motivation than joy. And the joy was infectious. Don't get me wrong. Folk weren't sitting on whoopee cushions. Some were running (along a flowered outdoor path). There was even a large praying space.
Okay. I have the vision. Now to find the names and phone number of those two people who visited me at FMC last March when they split me open and said they led a "post-heart surgery recovery group." Makes sense to link up with those already doing something.
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