Saturday, July 29, 2017

The world is falling apart, dreams, grief, service


Lately there has been a lot written about the end of the earth as we know it. Articles that speak to the 6th extinction process that we could now be in. Whether there is evidence to support this or not we are unquestionably in a time of great-change or turning as Joanne Macy speaks too. The impact of these changes is slowing altering the face of the earth’s landscape while accelerating the tipping point that will require our immediate attention if not only to address our own survival. Most of western civilization who has not been drastically impacted by these changes continues to experience a numbness associated with the denial of the long-term consequences to immediate human made environmental impacts. Impacts built from a consumer driven philosophy of striving for abundance and power. This power and abundance becoming the valued priority at the expense of all.
What psychological hypothesis guides this approach, without some sense of regret for its overall impact? What do we shut down within ourselves to mask recognition of our impact?
Could we be dissociating, experiencing a numbness formed from the addiction we foster by continuing to want and strive for more. Is it the lack of association or relationship with all that lives around and even within us that nurtures the separation? What comes first or do they both dance their weaving mechanism of desire, separation, and addiction as we see in those addicted to drugs, food, gambling etc. As we feed the addiction the separation increases leading to a focus that disregards the consequences no matter how destructive the outcome.
When we hear of the extinction of a species, is there no response because we don’t feel connected or see the inherit value in this life? Because we have no association or link to this being, don’t understand the root link between their survival and ours?
Will it take the loss of the elephant or a hummingbird? Will it take the loss of the forest down the street or the beautiful delicate rose that we give to our loved one on their birthday? Will it take the multitude of floods that wash away our farming land and their ability to grow the precious food that sustains us? Even if it directly affects us will we be caught in the cycle of addiction so deeply that we ignore our own extinction.? Maybe?
I also wonder if there is something else that keeps us from change especially now in the face of the environmental trauma that is occurring on a tremendous level. To acknowledge this trauma is to acknowledge our own grief and responsibility in its cause. Could there be a depth of grief we are not willing to tap into, because in doing so it will come with a place of regret, guilt, and powerlessness. A place of loss unlike any other that we would have to admit too and feel. And an acknowledgment that also expects a response of some kind that we are not sure we can or are willing to give.  
To feel the weight of guilt and grief tied to the consequences of our impact on the land could be overwhelming and destructive. Especially when there is discussion focusing on the end of times. What better reason to go back in denial even for the best of us, if it is too late why bother.
Even the best of us who understand climate change still fly, watch TV, buy the best clothes, and unknowingly purchase items forged from the destruction of the earth. The reality is that in mainstream culture it is difficult to live a completely environmentally ethical life. And yet still we try the best we can, live the best we can in a world that demands we go numb.
For those of us who choose to acknowledge the trauma occurring and view the destruction of the land and seas with an open heart we encounter the realization that the time for eluding or recovering lost environmental impacts maybe impossible such as the melting of the glaciers. That instead we must come to terms with an environment that will be changed forever and learn to adapt to an evolving landscape. That we can become those who continue to speak to the easing of its destruction while we prepare for its evolution.
But first we must create the space for our own grieving, for the loss of the rain forests, the clear clean seas, the extinction of animals like the Northern Darwin Frog, Western Black Rhinoceros, fresh water shrimp, several species of butterflies and more. To grieve for the elimination of farming lands in countries such as Africa and South American because of the lack of water leaving thousands of people starving and malnourished. For the wars that are being fought and will be due to decreasing resources.
For me the dream is my awakening offering the foothold to understanding not only my own trance like state in not responding but also to the enormous impact and tasks that lie ahead. My dreams offer a voice to my own process of engaging the landscape around me by opening me to the story within. They are reflected to me in the story and its feelings who I am in relationship to my inner and outer self and they give voice to the earth through the universal energies of the unconscious realm.  
Dream “I am standing on the edge of a large lake and in the distance, I see men capturing a black bear cub and placing her in a caged locked in the bed of a truck. When I look around I notice the mother bear running trying to escape but evidentially falling to the ground with exhaustion. Around me other baby animals are being capture as I stand idly watching. What do I do?
Dream: I am a government agent who has just received a call from a scientist letting me know the earth’s food supplies have been tainted with a virus.
These types of dreams have come to me over the last few years. When I follow the story of the dream and step into its associations and feelings I tap into a breath of sensations that guide me to insights regarding the numbness of witnessing and experiencing trauma on a personal and universal level. I become of aware of what has kept me from wholeness and how I lost my voice.  How my nourishment was tainted on a physical, emotional, environmental, and spiritual level. How I have been kept from the nourishment of the land. And how the land is losing its ability to be and give nourishment.
And in receiving this insight and wisdom I can have the opportunity to heal by experiencing the grief and anger of it all. It is in opening to the gesture of the grief that I can step closer to opening to the gift of who I am in relationship to my soul and the soul of the earth. It is in this healing that I can claim my place in the world and my role in relationship and service to the earth.

Sunday, May 28, 2017

Dreaming as an Ancient Rite of Passage Ritual


Dreaming as an Ancient Rite of Passage Ritual

The way of dreaming is mirrored in the unfolding experience of a rite of passage journey.  Each time we lay to sleep we make severance, releasing our former lives, its concerns and actions of this waking world and slip into the unconscious realm. Like any process that touches the egoic self, there may be struggle in the letting go, a desire to hold on to thoughts and feelings that keep us in old patterns of engagement. Ones that do not serve but instead keep us awake assuming we will discover the way through but never do.

Yet there is an “emergent” potency that occurs when we consciously prepare to step into the dreaming world as a guide in the passage of healing as a dying to self and opening to the birthing awareness to the soul self. Could it be a desire to remember?

As we slip into the darkness of sleep a gateway awaits taking us into the threshold, the liminal space where the dream narrative comes to life. Where spirit in all its forms offers guidance weaved with the yarn of the universal and self-unconsciousness which reflects our ways of being within and without. Ways which have blocked and opened us to our true being and wholeness.

Upon awakening we begin the process of incorporation. In remembering and working with the dream we discover within its wisdom lies the gift we give to ourselves and our community. A gift of awareness that if embodied heals our pain and offers a glimpse of the path to wholeness.

This wisdom manifested in the waking world provides a dynamic ritual practice that synergistically changes our inner being, opening to the essence of who we are. This vision then comes alive in our daily interactions as we grow towards wholeness. A sacred gift of our passage given to all we encounter. One that deepens each time we heed the call of our dreams.


Dreams haunt reflecting the story of an exiled life. Memories torment the mind causing ripples of struggle that fight unconsciousness. Only exhaustion slips her into the darkness that finally brings sleep. Sleep opens to the soul of a dream forgotten by time and space. A reality she has yet to live. 

The Dream
“She stands facing a landscape of devastation. A mist of wet grayness thick and greasy fills the air. The land hangs before her a wasteland of collapsed buildings and empty streets filled with the remnants of an unfit guardian. Splatters of desperate and lost souls scourged for food and safety in alleys and burned out buildings.

She searches the terrain for her destination. Once discovered moves quietly and cautiously through the rubble. Her only protection these tattered clothes and battered boots.

Voices call to her in the darkness, a place she is all too familiar with.

“Stop now, you cannot make it, there is nothing to be found, and it is too late.”

Guarded yet ready she carefully steps forward avoiding the trash of this forgotten place.

She arrives at the station, a place only known in memories which held power. She waits on the edge of the platform as time pulsates like waves of emptiness and uncertainty. She waits, daring to know what has not been seen. She waits, holding her destiny, waiting to be release, yearning for freedom and begging to be awake. She waits and in the distance a speck of light shimmers as it draws closer.”

A dream reawakens a desire, a forgotten memory of hope. She becomes the dream as the dream is becoming her a rite of passage.


Friday, February 10, 2017

    The Altar of my Resistance: 
Dreams, Spiritual Resistance, & Ceremonial Activism                                     

Lately I have felt the uncertainty of my role in this current “resistance” to the political environment we are experiencing. Thoughts and feelings arise within questioning my commitment to the movement, have I done enough, should I attend every organizations meetings, and do I march every time for every issue? And if I don’t am I contributing to the oppression? Some told me yes. In the pit of my questioning shame and guilt begin to fill mixing water and dirt to mud that cakes me in cement. Here I cannot move at all. And I ask what does it mean to resist? And in this place, as an immovable object a dream is remembered and a story told offering wisdom for my release.

“Dream: I am in a cave sitting in circle with a group of women. In the center a fire roars. One woman holds a clay bowl in her hands in which something is moving. She turns and faces me offering the bowl and tells me it is time to nourish on what is within. I take the bowl and peer inside. Pieces of a live rattle snake move around. I swallow hard and look up at the woman in confusion. She nods acknowledging what I must do. I look back at the bowl and my fingers reach down towards the center.”

In this current time of increased political, ecological, economic, and spiritual struggle the cry to take action in some form to push back against a tide that appears to be drowning out the concepts of love, community, earth, spirit, and healing we are experiencing the rising tone of the word RESIST. A word shouted out on social media, painted on stone walls and poster boards. A word inspiring chants that demand our action through boycotts, marches, petitions, and holding space in barricade such as Standing Rock calling out to those in power for change. These are powerful and potent means of resisting, actions that can and have created change. And in this outpouring of active civil resistance there also lives a way to resist, to be an activist and to create change that should also be considered.
What does it mean to resist? The dictionary tells us it means, to withstand, endure, work against, to exert force in opposition or counter in defiance that which does not serve us. Resistance is to refuse to accept or comply and/or the ability to not be affected by something. To resist is to make a choice and act in accordance. And of course there are many forms of resistance both towards and away from wholeness both often driven by present struggles, the uncertainty of the unknown, and what we believe, experience, and feel about ourselves and how the world engages us.
Through my early adult hood the constant discrimination and harassment I experienced and witnessed others endure including the death of a friend forced this introverted being to take to the streets. I found my anger, self-acceptance, and voice as I spoke out against the injustices of the world. I shouted in the faces of those who I felt did me and my people wrong. I march, spoke out on TV, and developed new organizations which would continue to do the same. I was a wild cat in my activism.
What I didn’t realize at the time was that self-acceptance and living my life with dignity and integrity despite cultural norms and hate, was a pure representation of resistance. In later years living in relationship to the earth in a loving, respectful way, and working with mine and others dreams also became a potent act of resistance and activism. And what I have now come to understand as spiritual resistance. Because in each case I am living and practicing ways of being that reflect aspects of society not accepted as mainstream and/or go against the tide of beliefs of who a person should be. And dreamwork has been just that tool for ripping the lid off the box and naming everything when I paid close attention.
Spiritual resistance refers to attempts by individuals to maintain their humanity, personal integrity, dignity, and sense of culture as was experience in Nazi attempts to dehumanize and degrade Jewish individuals/culture. Most generally, spiritual resistance may refer to the refusal to have one's spirit broken in the midst of the most horrible degradation. Cultural and educational activities, personal acceptance of self, maintenance of community documentation, and clandestine religious/spiritual observances are four examples of spiritual resistance. In ancient times when Christianity swept the European landscape Druids, Wiccans, and Goddess worshipers would use every day items such as ropes, staffs, stones, and branches as ceremonial tools. These were kept in plain sight but hidden to those in power. Ceremonies would also take place in private homes and stories were handed down using the language of the trees so no one would be able to translate. In all cases above everyday acts of resistance folded into the practice of not giving up on the essence of who they were and what they believe. Everyday moments of ritual that reflected the belief in their relationship to each other and the land became ceremonial activism in the face of possible imprisonment or death.
Today with ongoing struggles to honor the diversity of who we are and grow into wholeness individually and collectively we are face with choices about how we respond and it what ways. As many have shout we cannot stay invisible or silent, we must respond in some form if we desire a humane diverse eco center world. One that values and nurtures all including the landscape around us. What way we each choose to respond is as diverse as the people and the landscape we live within.
In my own process I have come to understand that to be accepting of who I am as a lesbian with a fluid gender identity, to live openly, to educate, and support others in their process even in the face of physical threats and discrimination is an act of spiritual resistance. This has always required my own personal work on a very deep level. At some point in my struggle of acceptance I had to reject the norms and beliefs of the culture I live in. I had to stop hating me and believing in the fear imposed rhetoric of the society. I had to resist the hate within and without. Not always an easy task. This is also the case for my relationship to the earth, again to resist has meant for me to take on a spiritual and vocational path not accepted by many but the only one I knew as true to the authentic story of who I am. I have resisted the main stream western way of being to live the truth of what it means to be a member of and service to the earth community and not the delusional assumption of being in control of or separate from the earth.
In the middle of all of this the work of my dreams has offered the guidance and support in understanding and resisting all the voices of my own trauma as well as the voices that demanded I comply with the rules and norms of a society gone mad by consumerism, personal and environmental trauma, racism, sexism, homophobia, and on and on. They do this for me because I view dreams as the story of who I am in relationship to my past, present, and future and who I am in relationship to all beings as of the earth and universe. It is an animist view of the world that guides me. A dance that weaves all aspects of how I engage the world and the world engages me. In this perspective my dreamwork has opened me up to soul and an awareness of spirit. A glimpse of how to be relationship and in balance with all that surrounds me in these difficult times. I have experienced a profound kinship with all beings that roam the earth and have cultivated a practice that honors the sacredness of my role within the earth community through work with my dreams. Although definitely not perfect in this I have  discovered a way to live in the world through authenticity, reliance, and hope. My dreams teach me to resist.
So I march for what I believe and I do something more, I keep the dream alive and I work with others dreams, I do ceremony and ritual with the dream’s wisdom individually and collectively. I weave the work of dreams and earth based practices together. As a practitioner I explore how the dream reflects the dreamer through its associations, felt experiences, archetypal engagements, and memories invoke. How it shows us ways we open to or experience barriers to that wholeness. To work with an individual and their dream is a sacred encounter, one that requires my belief that the wisdom I seek from the dream is driven by my ability to listen to the spirit of the dream and the dreamer. When I ready myself for this work I prepare to step into ceremony with the sacred by asking for guidance and inspiration, to listening with an open mind and heart to both the dreamer and the dream. And the wisdom of the dream comes to life through a gesture, prayer, mantra, altar and more. This is spiritual resistance within a ceremonial context?
Ceremonial activism which has been practiced for centuries by many cultures and spiritual communities holds its intention in co-creating a sacred experience of opening to spirit/divine/God/energy etc. It is a way for communities to honor, ask for guidance, healing, call in energies, and celebrate all matters of life. It is a way to divine spirit with the intention of opening to energetic shifts, the true nature of who we are in relationship to everything. When we step into ceremony in times of need for the community, in times of resistance this is sacred activism.
By choosing to work with our dreams we affect change within ourselves, our communities and the earth. As we change from the wisdom of the dream, so do our dream’s change, so do we draw closer to dreaming as one with each other and the earth. And we live this change in the world.
I see our dreams as a personal, cultural, and universal story and enlisting sacred ceremony to work with our dreams is a tool for affecting change. We are creating new stories, healing old wounds and forging paths to inspiration that impact many energetically.  Our ancestors taught us that the dream is a potent Guide in remembering the essence of who we are and offering the wisdom to navigate the journey to.
When the marches are over, the posters put up on the walls and the revolution has torn the old structures down, the dream still resides within offering the guidance needed to seed a new way of being and continue to confront and transform the old not useful ways. And those of us who walk the way of the dream will offer ritual and ceremony bringing the dream’s wisdom to our communities. In the meantime may we dream the way through and perform ceremonies everywhere?
Dream “A mist of wet grayness thick and greasy fills the air. The land hangs before a wasteland of collapsed buildings and empty streets filled with the remnants of an unfit guardian. Splatters of desperate and tattered souls scourged for food and safety in alleys and burned out buildings. She searches the land for her destination. And then moves quietly and cautiously through the rubble. Her only protection tattered clothes and battered boots. Whispers call to her in the darkness, a place she is too familiar with. “Stop now, you cannot make it, there is nothing to be found, and it is too late. “Yet she tenderly steps forward avoiding the trash of this forgotten place.
She arrives at the train station, a place only known in memories which held power. She waits on the edge of the platform as time pulsates like waves of emptiness and uncertainty. She waits daring to know what has not been seen. She waits holding her destiny, waiting to be release, yearning for freedom and begging to be awake. In the distance a speck of light breaks through the darkness.

                   

Monday, February 6, 2017



Thoughts on dreams and dreaming.................


God sleeps in stone, breathes in plants, dreams in animals, and awakens in man” — Hindu Proverb


In this time of ecological and psychological struggle we can hear the whispers of an unfamiliar language calling out to be remember in all of us. Will we heed the call, listen, and take the necessary action to come home to our original self in the landscape of our earthy experience? And if we say yes are we willing to attend to and learn this language within. Our dreams expose us to this ancient interspecies language that hold's the key to our wholeness and place among all beings. By working with our dreams we begin the process of unlocking what has kept us from this beautiful ancient language of our primal self.
Dreams uncover our primal energies
When we step into the initial darkness of sleeping we cross over the borders into the landscape of the supra-consciousness. Here we are free from waking life chatter, submerging into the chemical & alchemical shifts that open us to encounters with tidal waves, wild animals, and passionate love. It is here that primal energies are liberated from the confines of ego, trauma, and cultural bindings. In this dissolution the dream evokes the feelings and knowing of this core universal force of life in all its forms such as instinctual, aggressive, creative, and sexual. The dream offers a glimpse of the original self as it is bound and unbound. And guides to your first born spirit as you were and can be in wholeness.

Saturday, October 8, 2016

Dying to be Loved

Dream:
I am outside near a bunch of people. Then a man goes up to a woman and hugs her. Another woman goes to a woman and hugs her. I realize they are doing this because they are working with the individual helping them with issues of relationship. The woman comes up to me and touches me on the shoulder I am scared and feel uncertain. Another woman comes up and touches my arm. I think what are they doing I am not sure I like this. Then another woman and another woman and they circle me just touching me.

Darkness slowly absorbs the late afternoon horizon as I stand watch over my friend who has chosen to walk the death march as a ceremony of death and birth. Anxiety rises as I too ready myself for the same walk. Prior to this day months of groundwork both in body and spirit have taken place to prepare for this ceremony. I was undeterred in this endeavor, thinking it would be a cakewalk because I have participated in a death ritual before. But now this ceremony seems charged with an unusually potent type of energy. Now after standing watch over my grove members a silent panic begins to overtake me. Breathing slowly I settled back into the task at hand, guarding my friend who now lies in wait to be reborn.

Earlier that day our grove journeyed together for guidance to design the death ceremony. For me it was a surprise and honor to be given the role of watcher/guardian of each person who walked with death. I became the guardian... sitting with each person in the dying experience, in their burial experience. Feeling the weight of responsibility, the need to hold the container quietly and do right by each person. Drumming each into death and then sit, stand, hold, pray, into the threshold of the ground which opens to the sacred seed planted in each of us and welcoming, uncovering and rejoicing in the birth that was to bring new life to each. Along with the earth burial there was the sky burial, a place of waiting for spirit to come from the sky and earth to nourish on the body while letting the air decay the old so the new can find a way home. So much questioning and doubt would surface in my ability to be a guardian/watcher each time a member of my grove was laid to rest. And as the witnesses spoke their words of honor and quietly left me with the dead I reach within for the strength of presence.

Watching over each person was such an honor, I witnessed the old making way for the new, a letting go and opening, prayers enfold and senses heighten. I am sitting and standing holding watch over you as you step through. Feeling the weight and the gift of the holding. Energy released in that place of the land. The crow fly’s, the raven knows, seeing them, watching them all. And then they are done and they come for me.

My time now came to die.

Standing I wait fear tightening the body as it overcomes me. Shaking, the body sharpens to the knowing and yet begins to sink into the grayness of death…..Let go. They prepare me for the grave. Cleansing me I feel the cloth washing my face and arms with gentle strokes reassuring me in some way. An experience of being cared for I struggle to let in. Seconds later I am standing on the edge being lower into the dirt and clay of the mother. The damp soil against my back welcomes me and still fear rises up. Okay so I am not dead, will I still be able to breath? A white cloth is draped over me as requested, while someone places a snorkel tube in my mouth and pulls the rest of the sheet over my head. I begin to take deep breaths, feeling the movement of the air passing through the tube to me and out again. All my expectations, wanting to die right, be strong plunge me into a hole of despair about my life. A moment of panic, will the air come back, will someone without realizing cover the snorkel hole and suffocate me. My trust goes out the window or should I say the grave for a brief second. How do I trust, how do I let go, how do I let myself breath, in and out, in and out..the air is there for me. Relief spreads out over my body and I realize I am okay, until the dirt starts to slam against my legs, torso and head. I feel the dirt as it pushes against my body, filling the place of connection to the atmosphere. I notice how even though my guardians maybe taking care in covering me with the brown clay of her skin it definitely feels like I am being buried. The last shovel full is thrown over my head extinguishing the last bit of light from above. Always fighting aren’t you a voice whispers in the wind and then I see her face.

The blackness of death, the pressure of the earth’s soil pressing down against me begins to call me back to her. I have stepped into the in between, the threshold of still being alive and yet calling to the death for acknowledgment.

In the distance whispered words spoken flutter in the wind my desires, my eulogy.

I will surrender to what I believe is possible
A voice gesturing towards wanting
I will surrender to the wild primal essence
Hands embraced, fingers dance intertwined
I will surrender to a life wrapped in uncertainty
Head pressured against skin soften by age
I will surrender to the light ignited by the pain
Wet lips savor the taste of intimate passion
I will surrender to a love that may not be known?
Bodies in contact converging to the sound of a single note
Cradled in the caress of a beloved.

Breathe…breath. what next, my song… quiet in my song..

Twinkle Twinkle little star how I wonder what you are. Why that song, I am supposed to find my death and birth song. Twinkle Twinkle little star how I wonder what you are…what is the rest of the song. But that song already exists. Feeling the heaviness grow more and more, pressure uneven across my body pushing down on me, suffocating me, entombing me. What is left God? Hang on all you have to do is breath. Breathe, just breath feeling the dirt on top of me. Remember the dream, visualize the women each touching me; remember those who love me…hold that as I drift further away. Pushing down on me, on me on me. What is left? It seems as though all that is left is my neck and head that is all I feel. The rest entombed, dirt thrown upon. There is nowhere to go but be right here for how long, I don’t know. Breathe…. My eyes are closed but why, I open them to darkness. And then close. What is left right now but me? What is this experience? Letting go, letting go. Trancing out. Feeling heavy, dirt pushes against me.

“Remember just be with the landscape and don’t worry about anything else”. Words I hear in the distance. Twinkle, Twinkle little star how I wonder what you are up above the sky so high twinkle twinkle little star. Why that song. I feel okay being right here. I don’t want to get out. How long has it been? Just breathe. I feel so little, spacey. Just be here, feel the dirt stay here, feeling everything holding me.

Getting comfortable, wanting to slow down. Words, images, a hairy man like yeti comes into my vision on the right. I see the sunset and rise… Bear is here what else.  Breathe, just breath, biting down can’t move my arms but I don’t care. I just want to stay here, don’t need to move, feel okay in a way. The pressure holding me down, moving me down, don’t want to leave. How long have I been here, a lifetime, pushing me down, just hold me. Silence, complete silence is here. Do I want to die, is that why I don’t want to get out? I am not sure. Are they waiting for me, but who is really waiting? I remember her words from the email, is there something to come back too. Sink into nothingness and just be here without thought and wait until you are ready. Let yourself sink be still in this place of confinement. There is nothing else that matters except this moment as you breath.

I know I need to get out, but I don’t want too. It is time and in my resistance no, yes, no, yes, I start to reach up, feeling the pull back as my arm reaches up, I can’t move, push harder, I am weak, I can’t get up. I can’t breathe. I panic, the sheet won’t move because it is too heavy. Oh shit I can breath as the snorkel leaves my mouth, need air. The weight of the dirt on the sheet, on the body shuffles around but not off. And then I heard his voice, he is there, yanking, pushing, and reaching for me. And then the breath, the cool air, okay, now I am okay, tugging the rest away, and hauling myself up I can do this. He reaches me and draws me up with the help of others. I rise to a celebration of my awakening, to another day. I speak the words of the journey, sip the nectar of the earth and share the seeds of my birth that I planted within.

It is time to begin again as the cycle turns.

What is in a death, the simple act of saying yes to a birth? What is in the acknowledgment of the darkness the simple act of saying yes to awakening? What is it to recognize the dream’s wisdom, the simple act of beholding the love? What is in the dirt and stones, what is in the water and air, what comes from the fire? The simple knowing that, I have been held by the mother. The simple teaching that I had to die in her embrace to know the ancient pure love that is offer. It is to remember this first love that with awaken me to all love.

And the journey here started with a dream.

Wednesday, August 3, 2016


Remembering


Dream:

I am out in a vast ocean, no land to be seen. From the depths of the water a large monster appears. A giant whale like creature that is not a whale but instead some combination of whale, reptile, and dragon. It has sharp pointy scales and looks old. This monster feels old, ancient from another realm or time. A dolphin is near watches. The being begins swimming towards me, terrified I stay right where I am waiting.




In our nightly musings we are gifted with chance encounters that are foreign to us, moments, feelings, relationships with beings that our bodies and minds have never known in waking life.



We discover the sensuality of passionate love, swim with whales; climb an umbrella thorn tree in the savannah; touch the scaly skin of a rattler and play the electric guitar with Prince.



These dream story’s, their sensations, feelings, and interactions although alien awaken in us a long lost friend remembered.



An ancient remembered aspect of who we are beyond our egoic perspective and within the universal unconsciousness of all life itself.



We encounter the divine spirit that holds all memory and existence weaving us within other such as whale, stone, mountain, rose, bee and human.



Our dreams even without our observation provide substance for evoking our ancestral and primordial knowing, the true felt experience of our bodies and minds as one with all.

 


Saturday, June 4, 2016

Dreams as the Magical Elixir---NWYFRE’

Dream
“I have signed up for a road race and walk up to the starting line. I am wondering if I will even be able to race I am so slow. The race begins and I realize I have forgotten my running shoes and I am bare feet. There is no time to go back and I start to run. As I run I begin to feel lightness in my body, I am not weighted down as I most often feel. Then I am running without any need to win I am just running.“

In Celtic and Druid traditions there is a term often used to identify the existence of a life force or energy that flows though out the universe. The term is Nwyfre. In the east it is known as ‘chi’, yoga ‘prana’ and Japan ‘ki’. Nwyfre in its historical origin might be known by the Irish word ‘Naomh’ which means heavens or firmament.

No matter where the language takes us the concept of some type of life force that sustains and flows through us has been studied for centuries. And this life force in some cultures is directly linked to the energies of the stars and heavenly bodies as well as a divine essence or soul spoken in spiritual traditions.

What is this energy? It mysteries have caused many a human explorer of spirit to practice a diversity of techniques from meditation, yoga, healing touch, and Reiki etc. for healing and to awaken enlightenment. I am sure kundalini energy has a direct link to this life force.

In my dream when I decide to run without the worry of having my running shoes on I tap into a feeling of freedom, lightness. I run without a desire to win, keep up with others or prove anything to anyone. Does my dream offer a glimpse into this feeling of life force? That when I let go of the constraints of what I believe I need in order to be okay or good enough I discover the force in me that wants to be experienced. I believe the answer is yes. The dream offers the opportunity to remember this energy in me. It was a awesome experience running without a sense of heaviness that I often feel in my waking life. I am always trying to do the right thing, prove myself to others, keep up and even be better then others. I am often exhausted, weighed down, fearful, and worried most of the time.

In the dream I feel an expansiveness and opening as I ran, while my thoughts focused on each and every moment of the run. Nothing else. I was in my body and mind at the same time noticing and being, gazing and letting go all at once. My body could sense the wind generated by my movement and my mind noticed the exhilaration of the movement without exertion. I felt no need to push myself. I felt no need to question what was happening.

I identified this experience as the awareness of Nwyfre flowing through me. Is this my relationship to the universe? Is this the experience of love in its purest form? All I know is that I felt awake and alive and connected to everything. 

As I dip further into this felt experience within the dream I also notice that there is a sensual feeling to this energy. Not in the sexual way but in the wakefulness of the sensations of my body kind of way. A knowing of my body and the possible love that comes from the Gods and Goddesses, the anima and animus or the direct sensual experience of the divine love that I believe is of the earth. It makes sense that earth energy is sensual, engaging, physical, and constantly creative. There is a tactile awareness happening every moment as we move about our day with every being. And all beings from stones, to plants, water, animals, and trees etc. interacts with each other to create. How can that not be sensual if we allow ourselves to feel it?

What a powerful life force that exists within and around us.

The dream offers me a practice of mirroring this life force through the dream story into my waking life. I do this by bringing the dream’s feeling of the run to life by visualizing, creating a gesture of the run, opening to remembering the feeling of the run in me and offering a ritual to Nwyfre.

I do this practice because I have been unable to feel this life force in my waking life. I know that Nwyfre is blocked in me because I have felt physically heavy, have experienced several illnesses and lived with a certain level of depression most of my life.

The dream offers a practice that can assist in releasing these blocks. As the heaviness peels away my true essence, my life force flows more freely. To evoke the flow is to wake up and to awaken the flow in me is to remember the flow that weaves me through the landscape of all things. And here I am held in the embrace of the earth mother, Gaia. Here I find home again.