Celtic Christians get credit for the spiritual concept of thin places but the understanding of a thin place is far, far older than that. Ancient Irish inhabitants believed that there were actual physical places where the physical and spiritual realms were so close, only the thinnest of veils separated the two. At certain times of the years, these spaces grew even thinner. Being neither into ancient pagan practices nor modern new-age meditations, thin places are something I’d like to understand from a purely intellectual vantage point. I’ve always had a love of ancient mythology and having Scots-Irish blood in my veins, a trip to these so-called thin places, out of mere curiosity, is definitely on the bucket list.
Be that as it may, I find that at certain times of the years, I have my own thin places. Late March and late December are the thinnest and that is when the dreams come. So I find myself in this time of strange and incredibly vivid dreams that have so much to tell me and yet I cannot understand. And no I don’t mean the crazy dream symbolism, so put down the dream dictionary. I mean I literally do not understand.
There was one with a strange little man who spoke to me in rapid-fire Italian, which I haven’t studied or spoken in over 20 years. He had so much to tell me but he refused to speak to me in English. I tried. I told him I didn’t understand. He waved off my protests and in the end all I got was that the time is near. Time for what, I have no idea. But it was important enough that I was down on one knee to hear him and he took my face in his hands to tell me. I woke up and could still feel hands on my face. Far too vivid for my taste.
The places in my dreams lately are definitely thinner than usual, even for me. I on the other hand, am feeling quite thick. I don’t get it and there is nothing that leaves me more frustrated than not understanding something I can see unfolding in front of me. So for now, I write them down as they come and wonder what it is that I’m missing.