Magnificent Blue

She stood in front of the two doors, not knowing which one to choose and enter. Her mind was screaming for her to pick the brightly colored chartreuse green one on the right, but her heart was inclined to the bold, cobalt blue door to the left. Biting her lip in indecision, she hesitated, sweat forming on her brow. Her pulse beat rapidly within her chest and her hands clenched so hard, she could feel the nails tearing into the skin of her palms.

Abruptly, she awoke, the sweat on her brow and the rapid heartbeat a very real thing even though Amelia still did not slumber. Yet again, the dream had come, and this time it was more vivid than ever before. She remembered that there were flowers growing beside each door in tonight’s dream, which was something completely new. The chartreuse green door had a large clay pot of flowering light pink flowers beside it, while the blue door was now covered in a hanging vine with beautiful white blossoms.

Amelia sat up in bed and turned on the beside lamp. What exactly was the dream trying to tell her and why was she dreaming it repeatedly? It had now been at least six months of the same dream, over and over. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was four o’clock in the morning. Knowing it was unlikely she’d be able to fall back asleep, she threw back the covers and rose from the bed, sliding her bare feet into the slippers beside it. Gliding softly across the hardwood floors, she headed to the kitchen where she intended to pour herself a good measure of the Irish Whiskey stored in her cabinet. Her golden retriever, Maggie, meandered slowly behind, her tail softly wagging as she followed.

Moments later, seated at the kitchen table with a glass of whiskey, Amelia picked up a bright blue journal and blue ink pen that lay on the table in front of her. Each time she had the dream, she wrote down any particulars or new additions that had occurred in it, hoping that eventually she would realize what her subconscious was attempting to relay.

She took a large sip of the whiskey. The amber liquid slowly traveled to her stomach, the warmth extending to her extremities in quick measure. The soft light from above the sink filtered across the room, providing enough visibility for her to write. Quickly, while the dream was still fresh in her memory, Amelia jotted down the new additions to tonight’s dream. A few minutes later, she closed the journal and lifted her glass, a silent prayer for help taking root in her mind:

Dearest Momma. Please help me to know whatever it is I’m supposed to know. Should I choose one of the doors? And if so, please help me to know which one is the right one for me.

As an additional afterthought, she added, I miss you so, Momma.

Amelia sighed, stood and then headed back to the bed. Despite the earlier fear of not being able to fall back asleep, she yawned and found she was sleepy again. Lulled by the relaxing whiskey, she was able to fall asleep only moments later.

Three weeks passed without a recurrence of the dream. It was late in the evening and nearing midnight. Amelia had been hectically busy all day, and she now relaxed with her feet stretched out in front of a blazing fire, her legs covered by a beautiful blue crocheted afghan her mother had made. Maggie slept contentedly on the navy blue area rug on the floor before her.

Becoming a bit drowsy, Amelia laid the book she’d been reading down on the table next to her and closed her eyes. It seemed like only moments before she was startled by Maggie, who gave a slight bark from where she lay, her tail beginning to swish against the hardwood floor as she focused her attention on the corner of the room.

Amelia immediately sat up and looked to the corner. Joyful surprise and alarm simultaneously raised inside her chest. Before her, in the corner, stood her mother, who was smiling the most beautiful smile Amelia had ever seen. She was seemingly enveloped in a light blue, shimmering light.

“Momma?” she half whispered, blinking in disbelief.

“Amelia dearest. You must choose a door. Whichever one you choose will determine your destiny. Look within yourself, and you will know which one to choose.”

Crying, Amelia reached to wipe the tears that fell from her eyes, and as she did so and blinked, she found that her mother was no longer there. Maggie settled back down at her feet, and Amelia reached over to lovingly stroke the dog’s head, wondering if she had just dreamt the entire sequence of events. A deep-seated longing for her mother took root in her heart. How she longed for and missed her!

Much later, though still quite emotional, Amelia headed to bed, hoping that she would be able to sleep. The buzz of the overhead fan and the sound of Maggie’s even breathing as she lay curled at the end of the bed provided comfort, and it was only a brief time before Amelia was able to enter into a deep sleep.

As if seeing her mother’s image had been a foreboding, the dream drifted to resurface as Amelia slept. However, this time, her heart did not race nor did she sweat with trepidation. It was as though she was able to reach deep within herself for what she knew to be some secret, inherent truth with purpose and direction. Walking steadfastly and quickly in the dream, she went directly to the cobalt blue door, noticing the sweet fragrance of the hanging white flowers on the vine above it as she reached for the doorknob. Slowly twisting the knob and pushing the blue door open, Amelia was engulfed in what felt to be a different time and space beyond her recognition. There were amazing shades of blue all about her, surfacing in the clouds above, the butterflies and birds that flitted about, and the flowers that grew as far as the eye could see. In the far distance, a crystal blue ocean rippled as the sun glistened off of it, reflecting shimmers of yet more shades of blue. A profound sense of peace and security wrapped about Amelia, and she knew without a doubt that her destiny lay within herself and within her own ability to follow her intuition and choose accordingly.

As Amelia awoke, she sat up in bed feeling enlightened beyond her wildest imagination. It was interesting to her that she had not chosen the cobalt blue door to begin with, as she had always gravitated to the color blue. A few years back, she had met a woman while out shopping at the market one day. The woman, older with graying hair and beautiful eyes, had approached her, advising that she was a sort of spiritual guide, often seeing angels and the like surrounding others. She asked permission to tell Amelia what she saw about her that day as she shopped. Intrigued and having just lost her mother, Amelia had eagerly agreed to hear whatever the woman chose to tell her.

The woman was known only by “B”, like the letter, and began by telling Amelia that she was accompanied by four guardian angels, who were constantly with her and literally had her back as two were positioned in front and two behind her. “B” advised her that while the guardian angels remained with her at all times, she still had a freedom of choice in all she did. She went on to say that Amelia was surrounded by a cobalt blue color, which was indicative of the Archangel Michael. Michael was obviously with her, assisting in those matters where he was most needed. “B” advised Amelia that Michael was the king of all angels and a fierce warrior, and he was definitely someone whom she wanted by her side in times of need. Michael was forty feet tall with a massive wing span to protect and comfort her; she should never fear with him near. The woman had spoken of a few other things, but Amelia distinctly remembered thinking it a bit odd that she had always surrounded herself with blue items like china, clothing, flowers, stones like lapis lazuli and sapphires, and even writing pens and markers, as well as other accessories like her glasses and shoes. It was interesting that of all the Archangels, Michael had come through that day, and that he was identified by the vivid blue color to which she had always been drawn.

Turning on the lamp beside the bed, a new sense of freedom filled Amelia as she realized that she could have chosen either of the two doors, but more importantly, she needed to go with the one that gave her the most sense of familiarity and comfort. She knew that the crux of the dream was that her destiny evolved solely from the truths and knowledge held within her soul, and therein lay the true secret behind the recurring dream. No matter where she went in this life or what she did, she had the protection and guidance of her guardian angels and the fierce warrior Michael – and her mother. Whereas she had felt loneliness after the loss of her mother last year, her mother was now making sure, even from the other side, that Amelia remembered and believed the things “B” had told her, and the dream had been a subliminal reminder of all of these things, but most especially of her own abilities.

A smile upon her face, Amelia turned off the lamp and lay back down, pulling the dark blue covers up and tightly about her.

“Thank you, Momma. I love you,” she whispered into the darkness.

Reassured in her new knowledge and awareness, Amelia quickly fell back asleep, anxious for the dawn of a new day and what it would bring. The dream had shown her that life lay on the horizon of the vast blue ocean and held many opportunities. And undoubtedly, anything was possible. Amelia could scarcely wait for tomorrow.