the fluency of mediumship

My dreams are pulling me up to the surface with pinpoint clarity and then pushing me back down to earth.

I remember this—this way of clearly seeing future events unfold in the present tense—as quickly as I remember not liking it. The minute that I felt uncomfortable with the whole of it, the clarity disappeared.

This is the way it goes: you can't hold a piece of a hologram without holding the whole thing. And so it follows: when you let go of the piece you’re holding, you release the rest of it.

I won't be making that mistake again.

Last night, I saw God: a golden light-filled window, curtains billowing on both sides, glow streaming through, around, beyond the panes. I asked for this. I said, please give me a sign that you’re still here. I’m not sure what I was expecting to see, but I wasn’t expecting this vision. God is good like that—doling out surprises with gentle kindness, but for only a split second, as if to test the waters. As if to ask: was that okay? Are you alright? Can we use this language to speak with one another because, if not, I will find another window?