Afterwards I told Julia yet again that I am looking for Corey and will not stop making myself available to her for contact. I have felt that my first job is to climb the mountain of grief so I can begin to leave some of my personal pain behind. I imagine that only then will I have a chance of sensing her now.
The moon was a searchlight moving through the trees and into my little tent as the stream drowned out every sound. My trusty dog, Sequoya, lay on the mat just outside the door of my tent.
I kept praying, "God give me new ears to hear Corey. New eyes with which to see her."
Somewhere in the night with the moon in my tent, she come to me. Out of the nothingness of sleep I started seeing a young woman (or "womyn" as Corey spelled it from the time she was eight years old). She wore a large sunhat and was laughing softly, smiling and lowering her head with the grace of an angel. Then knew it was Corey. She looked like herself except a tad older, with a few more years of experience showing on her radiant face.
Seeing her, I immediately made the inner gesture that I have made since the first dream visit from her on July 11: I open myself. I fold my ego and my desires like fresh laundry and set them beside me and open my innermost self into the void. Breathing. Waiting. Believing she will come to me if I can keep from wanting it so much. Then, it happened. Corey came to me; her body was the most subtle body, it did not have physical boundaries as she hugged me over and over again. Her hugs felt like large butterfly wings gently opening and closing on me on every side.