Another fun conversation with folks on the Flipside. In this, Luana Anders, our moderator on the Flipside wants to discuss a dream that I had recently where I was on one side of a door with my brother, both of us trying to get it open - and on the other side I could hear my mom's voice. As I awoke, I recognized the door. It's the same door that was mentioned a few weeks ago during a podcast, and I asked my friend on the flipside about this door - and her message to me was "let it go." Which I did. But the dream made me reach out to the folks who have this door - and sending a text message about the dream prompted a reply that said "your family can come and retrieve the door if they want to." When I awoke from the dream about the door - I was thinking about the metaphor. It was the last remaining piece from the house I grew up in, that our father the Architect designed and built for his family - and that door has every person's name and a date who crossed into our threshold. Hundreds of names of people - old girlfriends, (we were four boys) but also wives, children, grandchildren, their pets - all stood against the door while my dad marked their height and the date they were there. Luana is on the door. Multiple times. My parents, my brothers, their families - our dog Sam - all on the door. And the reason that came to me after the dream is that this door represents a kind of Akashic library - retaining the time signature, the frame of time when that person stood against the door - had themselves measured, the time and place dated. Many of the names on the door have left the stage - but they - like all of our loved ones - still exist outside of time as we understand it. They're available - all of them - because that floppy disk of who we are has the mathematics of the time frame imbedded in that door... so to speak. Like a photograph - or a video - but in ways different, perhaps more fun, because we can see the handwriting of the person who wrote their name, signed their name, wrote the date - on the door. And now it's in my brother's garage. He sent me a photo of it the other day - and there they are, all of them, our friends, pals, lovers, relatives, comedy giants, musicians - all of them on that one door. That I thought was gone. But it is not. And this week I'm editing a "best of Amelia Earhart" so I invited Amelia to stop by and weigh in - and she talked about the crew we all have. The team on the flipside. Our teachers, our guides, our classmates, our higher selves, our council members - all participate in our journey, but are like a plane's mechanics... each bolt, each oil drop, each gear and mesh is related to a safe flight. We are never alone in the air with our plane - we have all these folks on the ground who did their job that got us airborne. I used the metaphor of a football team - guards and tackles, linebackers, halfbacks, quarterbacks - and the coaches and men and women behind the team - who design the plays, watch the footage - all of them are involved in each and every play. It's a bit like what the astronaut said the other day when someone asked her about what constitutes a crew or a team - and she started to talk about what a good crew means, and realized somewhere in that thought that everyone on Earth is part of that same crew. The crew that keeps our planet going forward. Sorry I didn't mention it on the podcast, but I'm mentioning it now. Be kind to everyone.
