this blog is written in the morning, after getting my first solid night’s sleep in over a week. i dreamed that i started using cocaine in the morning by putting it in orange juice. just a little bit was how i rationalized it in the dream. i was waking up at eleven thirty each morning too, and i felt terrible about it. the feeling in the dream was one of not being me and yet i was unable to control the straying. real me, both in the dream and waking life, has never used cocaine. i happen to hate that drug with a passion. i also am a morning person who never sleeps past nine at the very latest. but there i was in my dream, being somebody else. the only sense i can make of why i dreamed this, is due to how i lost distinction of myself in the cohort gathering. slowly over the days this happened, so that by the last day i felt myself crying and feeling for the group as a whole. i got assimilated into the group like an organism. i became the tear ducts, that’s how it felt. maybe it was scary to go through that. i also regressed to age seven. that was the one distinction i felt. i was seven and tears. complete innocence. it wasn’t bad to be one organism instead of just michelle, but it was scary to lose my sense of normal boundaries. i am unsure yet what this all means. i am curious. i know that we are all one playing parts, so absorbing into the one organism of the cohort makes sense on an intellectually spiritual level. yet my heart is still very confused, somewhat scared, and unsure how to land back into my life outside of the cohort. i feel empty without going to school today, i must admit. i will need to write and paint this out of me in order to move on emotionally. i also feel unsure of my calling to hospice. i don’t know if it is a calling. i am wondering about that. it feels foreign. the sky is grey and the birds are chirping, much like my interior. i feel drastically torn to pieces and at the same time, i know this is beautiful and part of the transformation process. haven’t done yoga in a week or something. it seems hard to return to it. this happens after every cohort. my adjustment period is slow. i wonder how the others are feeling. does regular life seem strange to them too? one thing i have learned is how right it feels being part of a group and leaving my sacred solitude to be part of it. i feel called to teach maybe, in order to stay connected to the cohort experience as my work, because i have fallen in love with the cohort experience. that’s the thing. i want to help others to find themselves i think. it’s all the unknown still. desires emerge and subside. which desires are the callings? ganesha is staring at me from the corner of my table, a cheap plastic model i found at the thrift store, but so sacred. i feel like a cheap model found at the thrift store that is so sacred. somehow i will come back into unity, just not until the fragmentation has had her say. there is great vulnerability here. my heart is an oyster whose shell is changing.