I woke up from a dream in which someone I loved very much had died. Someone had insulted my lost loved one, and I went on a rampage, screaming and crying and throwing things around, wanting to wrap my hands around the offender's neck and choke the life out of them. I collapsed on the floor crying, and that's when I awoke with real tears streaming down my cheeks.
I realized immediately that the dream had been about my father, who died almost three years ago, and that I still have a lot of anger and grief that hasn't been released. The dream, while distressing, had the feeling of one that had been sent to me to teach me something, and I'm taking it to heart.
After I woke up, I rolled over to look at the clock. It was 3:33 A.M.. That number, for personal reasons, has a lot of significance for me, and considering the work I have been doing lately to establish a relationship with Hekate and the chthonic gods, it seems even more significant.
I have been feeling the push to work on the deep, dirty crap I've been hanging on to, but I've been resisting. Ready or not, here it comes.