Among the mind-boggling supernatural things that have happened to me some of the weirdest have happened in my sleep.

Drifting off to sleep…our minds wander. Process. And like music or poetry everything becomes slowly, beautifully untangled.

When my ex-husband went to watch the musical group “Vampire Weekend” perform at First Ave. in the 2010’s he met a girl named Amanda. In his phone she became “Amanda Vampire Weekend.” She was one of the people who he hurt me with the most when we were first dating… And honestly, I’m not sure she wanted to be used that way. …I had a vague connection to her. She was friends with one of my former high school friends named Laura who played with me in the school orchestra. And Laura knew Chérie who lectured me in college my first year.

…And…it’s all interconnected. God created a universe not a nothing. If nothing can truly even exist..

I rewatched the end of “Eyes Wide Shut.” And on one point I stand partially corrected. I’m not sure the two main characters necessarily ever break-up… I had watched it last until the scene when Dr. Harford comes home to see the mask on the pillow until this afternoon.

The thing is, it looked to me like they were going to separate permanently until the end. But…then he “tells her everything.” And it’s amazing what heartfelt honesty can do. And I didn’t recall the ending as well as I had thought… They might still have ended things. But…he was very honest on film.

When I’ve tried to talk to ghosts and my ex-husband about “Amanda Vampire Weekend” types I sometimes have been given the truth and other times I’ve been told lies. Partial truths. Total rubbish.

But as much as it’s ugly, Swedenborg’s design functions as such that when one real soulmate theoretically fouls up another checks them. And you drift off. Like exploding matter. In blissful slumber, hopefully, it all separates. And perhaps…on occasion…if you let Him…God makes it better than it was. Enough to make you wonder if it just always was.

One night I had a dream that I was dating a black young man. In the past. He was extremely responsible. And mature. And wise. And we found ourselves worshipping God humbly and looking to have a peaceful, honorable marriage. Healthy. Beautiful. But not the union of two soulmates. Just two people trying to survive and be reasonably happy. In the dream we either didn’t even kiss at all or we shared one chaste kiss goodbye as I left the passenger seat of our car for some reason. Perhaps he was dropping me off at work. We were not soulmates. Not twin flames. And being as practical, rational and God-fearing as I am I was content enough… He was too. Maybe we both secretly knew our soulmates would be found in Heaven. Did we want to make each other better for those people even?

The next morning I woke up and found out that Colin Powell had died. The timing was odd.

But there were no decent young men like that (whether that was his ghost or not) to marry in my circles when I was young who I could date. Men who weren’t soulmates, but who just wanted a normal, humble, healthy marriage. Not really. …Not really. Not who would have understood me well enough as a person to make such a union possible.

Hopefully Colin Powell was fortunate to have married a soulmate. Maybe he’s waiting for her now… Certain. Almost certain?

But no, they don’t always tell you everything. Men. Women. They don’t. But when love is true…it doesn’t rip apart when it’s untangled. It’s eternally invincible… God’s an infinitely brilliant mind.

And I refrain…we are but fools or children before Him.

Happy weekend.