I dreamt I was standing alone in the middle of a dojo.
It was a typical dojo. If you’ve ever been to or seen a martial arts studio you might notice low ceilings, lights that are too bright, mirrors on one side of the room, a pile of weapons in one or more of the the corners. I looked around and all was familiar.
Then all of a sudden this shaman guy shows up wearing a wild African mask and grassy skirt. He starts dancing in front of me shaking a wooden staff to his step. His movements are wild and fast and on purpose.
He stops to look at me. He leans in and pokes me in the belly. He speaks in a low clear voice only slightly muffled behind his mask,
“This is where Buddha’s Teacher lives”.
I traced his finger to my belly. And then he was gone.
I stood there looking at my belly and I shut my eyes.