I had a strange and profound experience as I awakened this morning. It started in a dream.

I had been rock climbing with a friend and lost track of time. I'm not sure if I had fallen asleep or for how long, but as my awareness returns, I find myself on a cramped ledge on the wall of an underground cavern. I can see only darkness below as the ledge drops off sharply on both sides. I'm safe, lying on my back with my legs scrunched up, but I'm afraid to move for fear that I will fall. A faint light trickles down from an opening above, and I can see my climbing partner intermittently on the other side. Her attention is elsewhere as I struggle to awaken and communicate with her.

"I want out of here," I think with frustration. I can see the rope dangling in the air some distance above me, too far to reach. Why am I so groggy, and why am I untied from the rope? I struggle to unclip my shoes from my harness and put them on my feet. With no room to sit up, it seems a precarious endeavor. I momentarily get my partner's attention telepathically. She lowers the rope, swings it to me, and I manage to tie in. As I wait for her to put me on belay, my frustration builds. Why can't she see that I want out of here? What's the hold up?

The dream shifts. We're roped up ready to climb. I realize I'm not on a ledge. I'm standing at the top of the imagined cavern, level with my partner. The gap between us is not even wide enough to fall into. I step over the opening and past my partner, still frustrated but relieved to be safely above ground. Why did I even bother to tie in? Why did I think I wasn't safe?

I feel embarrassed that I insisted my partner put me on belay when there was no need, no danger at all. As we're walking away, I ask why she left me. She shrugs and says she went to run a quick errand, unexpectedly met a friend and lost track of time. I'm still frustrated, but I'm not sure I should be.

My awareness returns to my bedroom. I don't open my eyes, but I can feel the bed beneath me. I keep hold of my dream but begin to notice my body as well. My lower chakras are wide open. Survival, abandonment, and helplessness are wiggling loose from my space, trying to release from my energy body. I gently help them along, coaxing them out of my space. My body jerks as my energy shifts.

As my body continues to release denser energies, I contemplate my dream. I "remember" an infant experience with my mother. As in the dream, I imagine danger when there is none. I lie on my back, scared, frustrated, and unable to move. I can see my mother intermittently above, but I'm unable to keep her attention. She is distracted, unaware of my imagined danger. Why isn't she paying attention to me? Why has she abandoned me?

I smile as the old energies move out and my body calms. I wonder how many times I've imagined myself unsafe? How many times have I been frustrated that someone wouldn't help me out of my invisible situation? I enjoy the moment, lying in bed with my eyes closed. I give myself time to settle firmly into my body and allow the remaining energy tremors to fade out. I notice a deep calm within as if some long held tension has finally escaped my grasp.

The funny thing is all I needed to do was let it go.