I awoke this morning from a powerful dream. I was with my friend Calvin Stimson’s family in some sort of large dwelling. His family was huge, the dwelling was packed with people moving here and there, preparing for something. They gave me genuine smiles of warmth as I passed. I don’t know why I was there but unexpectedly his father Mickey approached me and gave me a gift. He handed me an incredibly expensive and powerful microphone to encourage me to continue speaking. A cousin, I don’t know who she was, approached me with a gorgeous ribbon skirt she had made me that had red feathers on it to honour my relationship with Saba. It fit me perfectly. Gosh, it was beautiful.
My mom, dad and sister were with me. My dad asked me why they were doing this, was it just because I drew a memorial for Calvin when he passed? I said no, that they were honouring Calvin and mine’s friendship, that he must have told them about me. I wept tears of gratitude as I left. I missed him so much, I was touched by these gifts. I felt honoured by his family.
Upon waking, the microphone felt symbolic and spiritual, especially as I know Calvin was indigenous. His dad Mickey was a chief, whom sadly passed last year shortly after Calvin did. Calvin was in line to be chief.
I’ve been struggling lately with wanting to stop doing public speaking and mental health advocacy. I have so much pain and trauma by how I’ve felt treated for my mental health by the medical system in BC. The nightmares have been hard. Waking from this dream has given me hope that I’m on the right path.
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