doused in symbolism

I had this dream the other night. I felt the need to share this on my blog mainly so that I will NEVER forget about it. 

It began with me hanging out with my siblings. We all decided it would be a great idea to hit the town, and what do you know? I ended up drinking, and unsurprisingly I also ended up wasted. My brother and sister had to wrestle with taking care of me for the remainder of the evening...trying to keep me quiet, calm, and happy.  These are all VERY hard tasks to accomplish when I am completely obliterated by the alcohol. Handling me is definitely the hardest job you could sign up for. Props to them in my dream. This part of the dream faded into the next phase which involved my siblings and I (Madam I hope this is correct, ha ha) being chauffeured around town the following day by my father in our big ol' suburban.  I just remember feeling incredibly full of shame because of events of the previous night.  I looked to my siblings and questioned them about whether or not my father knew what happened.  They told me that he had called the night before and asked if he could specifically speak with me.  Of course they had to come up with some off the wall excuse as to why I couldn't be put on the receiving end of the telephone call.  I knew then that my father understood why I never came to the phone.  He was no idiot, and has always been one to see easily through a white lie. I couldn't believe how I could have done this to him again, and I felt so terrible because I knew that it must have broken his heart for the 1000th time.  This scene fades out with me feeling full of self loathing and like the quintessential alcoholic ASHAMED...AND then it takes this magnificent and very symbolic turn...I am walking around a church/palace following a tour guide along with my sponsor in the program I am involved with and of course her husband.  I will call my sponsor Madame for anonymity purposes.  Madame and her man are filling me in on the history behind this beautiful place of worship.  The story went a little something like...Long ago when the land was still ruled by kings and queens there was a princess who used to dwell in this church.  She would sometimes come to the front of the congregation and share messages with her people.  Then one day the devil sought after this beautiful woman of power.  His plan was to whisk her away from her people so that she could no longer reach out to them.  He came in the form of a tall, dark and painfully irresistible man.  He approached the princess and asked her if she cared to dance and held out his hand.  Caught in a moment of weakness the princess could do nothing but be obliged.  She took the hand of the devil and he swept her away to the tallest tower of the church.  It was a beautiful dance, one that immediately had the princess enchanted by some evil spell.  The devil had this magical essence of keeping her in this tower and she no longer fed her people.  Of course without the princess to guide them the spirit of the town slowly faded away.  After hearing this sad story Madame took me by an opening which had a staircase that could only lead to the tallest tower.  She strolled away and I stood transfixed by it all.  I could not move, and my curiosity got the better of me in the end. Because before I even knew what I was doing my feet carried my body all the way up to the very room where the princess began her never ending dance with the devil.  I guess I wasn't surprised to see him standing there in the middle of the room when I finally arrived at the top.  He was waiting for me.  I somehow knew he would be there.  He said "hello".  I could only muster up a "I know who you are", and he then went on to say..."I know. I have been waiting for you."  I stood there captivated by his sinfully beautiful nature. It seemed an eternity passed before he spoke to me again.  He simply held out his hand, and I knew what he was going to ask before the words even passed his lips..."Do you care to dance..?" How could I refuse?? I suddenly understood why the princess could not turn him away.  I must dance with him, only if for a second. I must dance with this man.  Then...as if by miracle. I heard Madame's voice coming from behind me, "Misha, what are you doing? We're going to be late for our meeting.  Come on."  I slowly and reluctantly turned my heel and walked away from that hand.

THEN a TRULY magical occurrence, reality hit me...in the chime of my alarm, when I realized it was ALL just a dream I let out a sigh of relief as I began to grasp on to the fact that I did NOT get drunk and I still had a month of sobriety behind me.

I definitely believe the lesson was learned though.  My dance with the devil in this life is finally coming to an end.  I am no longer the princess trapped in the tower.  What keeps me from reentering that dance?  I can only say is the program in which I am involving myself with daily, and ultimately my higher power.  For one cannot work successfully without the other. 

Do you care to dance?