Echo had felt as if she did not exist until after the age of seven. She didn’t realize that her psyche had suppressed her tormented early childhood memories. So intolerable that it was best that she did not remember. Growing up with secrets that she did not know she possessed--gave her plenty of space to grow into a happy healthy young woman. She was a strong, defiant, tenacious adolescent and young adult. She was also sweet, kind and loving.
Echo had the reputation of someone that knew how to roll with life-she was an adult who had unconsciously learned how to tuck away intolerable memories; the memories that would rage as a war inside of her soul; memories that would surely mutilate her spirit and distract her muse. Unconsciously she knew that recalling so much emotional pain would surely insult her mind and injure her soul. She did not prepare (or did she?) for the pain that she'd hid away; nor had she mindlessly thought to much about despair. There were always little hints of something- but what? There were the dreams that she'd have and was unable to define what the dream represented--the dreams always seem to represent something. Life lived in an illusion of standing tall on top of the hill overlooking the horizon--one day will turn into the reality that life below in the valley is full of dips and curves. As the winds of change began to blow tornado's in her life--the secrets were ripped away from their safe place and spilled out into her life. How will she survive her reality? Did the secrets kill the person known as Echo? What would have been the cost of experiencing the pain as it was dealt? What will be the cost of finding out later; during the stormy seasons of her life??
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There was a quiet serenity in the apartment—when she was in this peaceful place; she’d normally curl up somewhere comfortable in the apartment. She’d close her eyes; began to meditate—until she’d find herself in a sacred place and quietly speak to God. Not today she was too agitated; she rubbed the apartment chill off of her arms; she still felt strange. Echo’s disturbing dream this morning stayed fresh in her mind. The dream felt distressingly real even now that she was awake. Echo was troubled about how the dream had a disturbing feel of reality. She needed to understand what this dream meant. Echo hadn’t been this anxious about a vision for a very long time. Echo always trusted her sub-conscious: although she was afraid of it as she aged; as her conscious self became increasingly over-protective, defensive and almost always uncomfortably masked. She always believed that certain dreams had deeper meanings—she’d had odd visions before. Echo even had recurring dreams about strange things, that scared her but she could keep moving forward.
However, this current dream had her going nostalgic; had her feeling apprehensive—back tracking things on automatic pilot. One of her recurring dreams was that she was stranded on a beautiful island; surrounded by exquisite tropical greenish-blue water; she was very scared the island was only large enough for Echo to stand and stretch out her arms by her side. If she dared to look down into the water it became a pool of darkness; her heart rate would rise and she would swiftly divert her gaze; whenever she continued to look outward the greenish blue water it was mesmerizing. As a young girl Echo was taught to swim Echo suddenly, sometime after the birth of this particular reoccurring dream, become afraid of pools of water.
Maybe it wasn’t “Echo” who had challenged the lake learning how to swim one year while away at camp—those memories are scattered and fragmented; she was away at camp for three weeks and she could only remember a portion of the adventure. Much later in life after Echo had served so many lifetimes of pain she finally “Got” the dream if she looked down into the water it became a dark sinister pool of water, waiting to engulf her into whatever abyss it represented.