I looked back at my blog posts and found a post dated December 22, 2015 describing a previous dream about my mother. I'm struck by the fact the earlier dream also involved having paint on her head and being in a child-like state. I'd forgotten that entirely until I re-read it just now.
I tended to underestimate my Dad's considerable competence during his lifetime. At some point in time, I decided he was uncool and this judgment colored almost all my perceptions of him from then on. Today, my practice of mindfulness teaches me not to make gratuitous judgments. My Dad managed his life with intelligence and wisdom and negotiated its many hazards with great success. That's the truth and the truth is the teacher.
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