Talking with Dresden About Ukraine
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A Conversation With Dresden, My Primary Guide
“O…kay.” I was suddenly concerned. “Is something wrong?”
“Not at all. You looked up some of our older conversations about how much of our relationship should go public and I want to make sure your understanding of your growth and healing is clear.”
“Well, yeah,” I said. “In April 2006, you said you’d ‘strongly advise against’ my making any public pronouncements about being able to talk with you and Michael and every other guide and messenger who shows up. Then in September 2013, we talked about my motivation for writing a book incorporating our conversations.”
“We did,” Dresden confirmed. “And what was your reason for not writing it?”
“I didn’t want anyone to think I was using your status—not to mention Michael’s—in order to elevate myself.”
“Hmm.”
“Are you remembering something else?” I asked.
“I’m remembering that you gave that reason initially, but then after we talked, you understood your deeper reason. Which was?”
“Oh. Umm… If I accepted my relationship with you all as true, then I had to accept the things you said about me too. As long as I could hide our relationship, I could hide the things you told and showed me about myself.”
“Precisely,” Dresden said. “And by hiding what you learned about yourself, what were you also hiding?”
“The real me.”
“And what have I been telling you for the past fifteen years or so?”
I looked down at my hands. “To stop hiding.”
“Back in 2006,” Dresden said, “you were not ready to come out and be your full self. You had a lot of healing left to do. In 2013, you began entertaining the idea of writing one or more books involving our relationship, but you had more fear than drive at the time. Since then, you’ve done significant healing and you’ve come out publicly about our relationship in general because you see now how it can help others.”
“I’m still a little worried that people will either think I’m attention-seeking or crazy.”
“They might. That doesn’t make their opinions accurate.”
“No, but they could make life difficult.”
“Could they?” Dresden asked. “Really?”
“Well, they could bad-mouth me all over the internet. Dox me.”
“They could do that,” Dresden said. “But could they alter your relationship with me or Michael or any of your other guides?”
I snorted. “No.”
“What about your relationship with yourself? Could they change that?”
I thought about that, about how secure I am in myself now. “No.”
“Could they alter your relationship with your friends? Your partner and children?”
“No.”
“Could they take away your home or your livelihood?”
“Not easily, no.”
Dresden came closer. “Then why are you giving them so much power?”
I nodded, understanding. “They’re like the mosquitoes that keep me inside on a beautiful summer evening.”
“Did you know,” Dresden said with humor in his voice, “that your resources—including me and your other guides—make for an extremely effective bug spray?”
I laughed and shook my head. “Okay, I get it. And maybe by sharing this, others who are avoiding mosquitoes can avail themselves of their own effective bug spray.”
“And why do you want them to have that?”
“Because I know what it feels like to be covered in pain. And I don’t want anyone to have to feel that way.”
“For you remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt,” Dresden said.
“I mean, not literally,” I said, confused.
“You want to help others because you know what it’s like not to have what you’re offering,” Dresden said. “You know what it’s like to be a stranger, to be a slave to your pain, and you remember that you were brought out of that narrow place, so now you seek to help others.”
“You just made what I’m doing very, very Jewish.”
“It’s not?” Dresden asked, feigning surprise.
“Put that way, I guess it is. I guess I hadn’t framed it that way before.”
“Then you’re welcome.”
“Thanks for being my bug spray too,” I added. “Can I call you DresDEET now?”
“No.”
“But it flows off the tongue so well.”
“No. Even my metaphors stop before anyone’s name is changed.”
“So,” I shrugged, “I guess I’m going to slap on some bug spray and take us public.”
“Indeed. Go enjoy the beautiful summer evening.”
“Umm… It’s February. In Minnesota. It feels like two below zero.”
I felt Dresden bump my right shoulder. “Did you know that your resources, including your guides, can provide exceptional warmth?”
“Is there anything you can’t provide?”
“I can’t provide relief to your bladder. Go. Now.”
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