DREAM that I was brushing my teeth most intently, even though people around me were eating. I thought that even if I eat, I could just brush again later…
DREAMWORK:
Hmmm… yesterday I dreamed of a piece of my tooth breaking off… What are teeth to me? They are for me, means to get a firm hold of something – sink my teeth into – to deepen into something meaningful, and with purpose. They are a part of my body, my own innate resource, my sense of wholeness and vitalness, and I fear to lose them. In my dream I’ve opted out of eating to cleaning them instead, and this is a big deal, because I have by nature a voracious appetite, with my eyes always bigger than my stomach. My hunger is for everything, food, knowledge, learning, experience, emotion, anything new, anything that feels good, anything stimulating. This is what feeds my addiction, my drug of choice that takes away the pain of emptiness, of not having enough. So my teeth are a symbol of what I have innately as a tool, to chew before swallowing, to deepen into an experience, a practice, a path, and not rush to eat the next thing that comes across my plate.
Perhaps all these dreams of not getting food is telling me also to fast for awhile, slow down to nothing, sift through a lifetime of gorging and undigested accumulation, and heave out what I don’t need. At the same time I could clean my teeth, keep them in the best shape possible, for those things I ought to sink my teeth into, when the time comes. It is time for some deep cleaning…
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Barefoot in the World
DREAM that I was in an enormous auditorium/amphetheatre packed with people. I had taken my shoes off and now I can’t find them… As I was searching a couple of guys came up to me and 2 other girls to inform us that we were chosen for the contest or competition. One guy handed me a paper to sign and asked me if I would take his team with me, as if it would be an act of charity…
In another dream I had a sexual relationship with G., although I knew he had at least one other woman. I was tidying up and came across stuff he left behind, clothes and personal items. There was a zippered toiletry bag with surprisingly many compartments – I opened a zipper to find another one. It was made of thin material like a windbreaker… I was longing for his return…
DREAMWORK:
Back in the great collective of learning life… I wonder if it has to do with discovering Dao through Osho’s book “Tao, the Pathless Path” which I finished last night. I felt as if a part of myself had been found to have a door, and the door just opened a crack… so, back to the dream…
My shoes are what I put on to go out into the world with, and now I can’t find them, I can’t go out… which reminds me, I had a dream a while ago that I went out in barefeet because I couldn’t find my shoes but I wanted to stay with my group. Which begs the question, do I need shoes to go out? No, it is ideal, conventionally speaking, it is safer and more comfortable for sure, but not absolutely necessary. In a way, shoes are objects of empowerment that we have been trained to put on, like a power suit, or an armour, to hopefully impart to us a sense of power and confidence we don’t actually feel we have. So it becomes an excuse for me to not go outside because I can’t find my shoes.
And why do I resist going outside? The answer is illustrated in the next part of the dream. Two guys (the masculine) came to me and two girls (the feminine; making 4, the number of wholeness), informing the women that we are the chosen for the race. Whatever the race or game or competition was, it felt like a matter of survival to me in the dream. Women, the feminine, are the chosen for this race. One guy asked me to take his team, his men, under my wing. I suppose to give them a chance too, whatever the objective was. In essence, to be responsible for them as well as my own. This is a big issue for me all of my life, having had responsbility for my siblings since a tender age. I loathe responsibility, especially responsibility of anyone and anything other than me and mine. There were times when I used to fantasize about not having to be responsible even for myself.
Going out and being in the world means taking on responsibilities of all kinds to me, and that thought alone makes me feel like the Titanic in its final hours. So I’m still dragging around that anchor of an issue, inside, where it’s safe. The big, wide, world is more of the trap for me than in my pared down little life.
I guess this massive little ailment of mine also stands in the way of uniting the feminine and masculine in me. What needs to happen then? First, I need to get over the idea, and conditioning, that I have to wear shoes (or anything else that will speak for me before I speak for myself) to go outside. Dorothy never really needed those shoes, she could’ve made her wish come true by voicing it and clicking her own heels. She already had courage, heart, brains, and eventually wisdom to be whatever she was meant to be. Most of all, she had love, from her family, from Toto, from the spirits of Nature. But it took the heroine’s quest for her to realize all that she already had.
And so did I. Except I have the delusion that I cannot handle responsibility, that it will snare me and drag me down, that it will mean the end of me. If I click my (bare) heels now, and ask for that fear/delusion to be lifted from me, will it happen? In my mind, I see myself not only clicking my heels, but stomping my bare feet on bare earth, stomping solidly, in a circle with the 2 women and 2 men (are they split because I am?) We hold hands and raise them to the centre, stomping and chanting. In our palms we lift up the burden of our fear of responsibility and offer it to Source for renewal. I let go of this fear now. But it did not lift off, instead, it sits heavy in our hands. We knelt down on the earth then, still holding the weight in the centre, our foreheads kiss the earth, and the weight seems to slide off onto the earth, freeing our hands. We stood up and danced in a circle, our voices rose higher, lighter, and we began to spiral around the boulder in the middle. Several spirals later, we danced off down the hill into the golden distance.
In the other dream my masculine/Animus is what connects me and my feminine/shadow. Perhaps he’s trying to bring us together, for she is not my enemy, though I feel threatened by her. My insecurity is soothed by the fact that I have his most personal belongings, I know him intimately, and he will always come back to me. The pouch, his innermost sanctum, his true Self, was under several layers but easily penetrable to the core, and available to me. My Animus was in the figure of G., a most unlikely source of help in my opinion, the unlikely hero, because I’ve always believed him to be weak, misguided, and cannot help even himself. Yet in the dream he appeared to be reddish and robust, his upper body filled out nicely, an image of red-bloodedness and strength. My masculine is stronger than I thought, and I need him very much.
In another dream I had a sexual relationship with G., although I knew he had at least one other woman. I was tidying up and came across stuff he left behind, clothes and personal items. There was a zippered toiletry bag with surprisingly many compartments – I opened a zipper to find another one. It was made of thin material like a windbreaker… I was longing for his return…
DREAMWORK:
Back in the great collective of learning life… I wonder if it has to do with discovering Dao through Osho’s book “Tao, the Pathless Path” which I finished last night. I felt as if a part of myself had been found to have a door, and the door just opened a crack… so, back to the dream…
My shoes are what I put on to go out into the world with, and now I can’t find them, I can’t go out… which reminds me, I had a dream a while ago that I went out in barefeet because I couldn’t find my shoes but I wanted to stay with my group. Which begs the question, do I need shoes to go out? No, it is ideal, conventionally speaking, it is safer and more comfortable for sure, but not absolutely necessary. In a way, shoes are objects of empowerment that we have been trained to put on, like a power suit, or an armour, to hopefully impart to us a sense of power and confidence we don’t actually feel we have. So it becomes an excuse for me to not go outside because I can’t find my shoes.
And why do I resist going outside? The answer is illustrated in the next part of the dream. Two guys (the masculine) came to me and two girls (the feminine; making 4, the number of wholeness), informing the women that we are the chosen for the race. Whatever the race or game or competition was, it felt like a matter of survival to me in the dream. Women, the feminine, are the chosen for this race. One guy asked me to take his team, his men, under my wing. I suppose to give them a chance too, whatever the objective was. In essence, to be responsible for them as well as my own. This is a big issue for me all of my life, having had responsbility for my siblings since a tender age. I loathe responsibility, especially responsibility of anyone and anything other than me and mine. There were times when I used to fantasize about not having to be responsible even for myself.
Going out and being in the world means taking on responsibilities of all kinds to me, and that thought alone makes me feel like the Titanic in its final hours. So I’m still dragging around that anchor of an issue, inside, where it’s safe. The big, wide, world is more of the trap for me than in my pared down little life.
I guess this massive little ailment of mine also stands in the way of uniting the feminine and masculine in me. What needs to happen then? First, I need to get over the idea, and conditioning, that I have to wear shoes (or anything else that will speak for me before I speak for myself) to go outside. Dorothy never really needed those shoes, she could’ve made her wish come true by voicing it and clicking her own heels. She already had courage, heart, brains, and eventually wisdom to be whatever she was meant to be. Most of all, she had love, from her family, from Toto, from the spirits of Nature. But it took the heroine’s quest for her to realize all that she already had.
And so did I. Except I have the delusion that I cannot handle responsibility, that it will snare me and drag me down, that it will mean the end of me. If I click my (bare) heels now, and ask for that fear/delusion to be lifted from me, will it happen? In my mind, I see myself not only clicking my heels, but stomping my bare feet on bare earth, stomping solidly, in a circle with the 2 women and 2 men (are they split because I am?) We hold hands and raise them to the centre, stomping and chanting. In our palms we lift up the burden of our fear of responsibility and offer it to Source for renewal. I let go of this fear now. But it did not lift off, instead, it sits heavy in our hands. We knelt down on the earth then, still holding the weight in the centre, our foreheads kiss the earth, and the weight seems to slide off onto the earth, freeing our hands. We stood up and danced in a circle, our voices rose higher, lighter, and we began to spiral around the boulder in the middle. Several spirals later, we danced off down the hill into the golden distance.
In the other dream my masculine/Animus is what connects me and my feminine/shadow. Perhaps he’s trying to bring us together, for she is not my enemy, though I feel threatened by her. My insecurity is soothed by the fact that I have his most personal belongings, I know him intimately, and he will always come back to me. The pouch, his innermost sanctum, his true Self, was under several layers but easily penetrable to the core, and available to me. My Animus was in the figure of G., a most unlikely source of help in my opinion, the unlikely hero, because I’ve always believed him to be weak, misguided, and cannot help even himself. Yet in the dream he appeared to be reddish and robust, his upper body filled out nicely, an image of red-bloodedness and strength. My masculine is stronger than I thought, and I need him very much.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Dreams of The Empress
DREAM of Mrs. Manning, an old boss I had in my twenties. She was the owner and president of the stock brokerage firm on Bay Street where I worked to put myself through art college. A tall, elegant, but frail old woman who had heart. She always dressed and carried herself well. In the dream we were getting food at a buffet table (an old theme of nurture for me), and the woman with me commented that my grandfather had outdone himself with the cooking. I disagreed, maybe even out loud, because from what I could see several of the dishes were broccolli. Mrs. Manning came over and said something to the woman in a language unknown to me, because then she turned to me and said “That’s Manquist”, meaning the language…
DREAMWORK:
This makes the third dream I’ve had around the figure of a queenly feminine lately. There was the woman/me who barfed all over my shadow girl and my husband, and the one where I was loved and adored by 2 brothers. So there is something I’m not getting yet… hmmm…
They all personify the archetype of the Empress (I’ll look her up in Pictures of the Heart later), but aside from the positive qualities, what’s in the shadow of the Empress? In my dreams she was sick and threw up, causing her/my shadow to leave; then she/I was profoundly cherished by 2 brothers, boosting her/my self-worth as a woman; and now a woman who has power, prestige, wealth, and breeding. She spoke Manquist (a combo word from Manning and linguist? ‘qu’ makes a better sounding word than ‘gu’??) to my shadow, and that’s what I didn’t get, what I don’t get still… perhaps also why I couldn’t see what’s good and true of my grandfather’s cooking that others saw, all I could see was broccolli, a nutritious food but common and boring…
I’ve a feeling that it has to do with what’s in the shadow of the Empress, and the men in these dreams, the Emperor figure. What do the husband, the brother lovers, and my grandfather have in common? They all adored and worshipped the woman in their lives, devoted themselves to her wellbeing and cared for her every need, sung her praises as a woman, a mother, and goddess. They put her on a pedestal and made her the queen above all womankind. It is the greatest tribute a woman could have from a man. Their love for her is unconditional – this just occurred to me to know – they love her for who she is, even when she wasn’t a queen. They gave her the support and nurture to become the queen that she was born to be. They are the Benign Masculine, the true consort of the feminine. This is the healing and nurture I need from my masculine, for the yang to flow into the yin and infuse her with confidence, courage, and selfhood, so she can stand up tall and strong and poised as a queen, and wield the power given to her for the good of the world.
The truth is, the Empress is not an empress without the Emperor, and vice versa. She must return his love in kind, so the energy and power between – shared by them – is constantly renewed and flow freely. Creativity is then generated in abundance.
DREAMWORK:
This makes the third dream I’ve had around the figure of a queenly feminine lately. There was the woman/me who barfed all over my shadow girl and my husband, and the one where I was loved and adored by 2 brothers. So there is something I’m not getting yet… hmmm…
They all personify the archetype of the Empress (I’ll look her up in Pictures of the Heart later), but aside from the positive qualities, what’s in the shadow of the Empress? In my dreams she was sick and threw up, causing her/my shadow to leave; then she/I was profoundly cherished by 2 brothers, boosting her/my self-worth as a woman; and now a woman who has power, prestige, wealth, and breeding. She spoke Manquist (a combo word from Manning and linguist? ‘qu’ makes a better sounding word than ‘gu’??) to my shadow, and that’s what I didn’t get, what I don’t get still… perhaps also why I couldn’t see what’s good and true of my grandfather’s cooking that others saw, all I could see was broccolli, a nutritious food but common and boring…
I’ve a feeling that it has to do with what’s in the shadow of the Empress, and the men in these dreams, the Emperor figure. What do the husband, the brother lovers, and my grandfather have in common? They all adored and worshipped the woman in their lives, devoted themselves to her wellbeing and cared for her every need, sung her praises as a woman, a mother, and goddess. They put her on a pedestal and made her the queen above all womankind. It is the greatest tribute a woman could have from a man. Their love for her is unconditional – this just occurred to me to know – they love her for who she is, even when she wasn’t a queen. They gave her the support and nurture to become the queen that she was born to be. They are the Benign Masculine, the true consort of the feminine. This is the healing and nurture I need from my masculine, for the yang to flow into the yin and infuse her with confidence, courage, and selfhood, so she can stand up tall and strong and poised as a queen, and wield the power given to her for the good of the world.
The truth is, the Empress is not an empress without the Emperor, and vice versa. She must return his love in kind, so the energy and power between – shared by them – is constantly renewed and flow freely. Creativity is then generated in abundance.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
The Nurturing Masculine
Sunday, November 21, 2010 – full moon
DREAM that I was a woman with an aristocratic bearing, with her husband at a game or public event of some kind. She was haughty without being arrogant. There was the air of the tragic queen about her. She told her husband that she felt unwell. Next thing she had thrown up and was lying on the ground. There was vomit chunks on the younger woman with her and a little on her husband. The younger woman told her she was leaving. She wasn’t angry but looked put out.
In another dream I was going someplace downtown but accidentally went into a Loblaws warehouse instead. It was full of people and machinery, busy and impersonal. I couldn’t find my way out and the exits I saw required ID but I was no longer an employee. Finally I ran into Alex and begged him to get me out. He talked to some higher-up and told some little fib but got me out. There was a lot of snow outside and I couldn’t go very fast, as hard as I tried. In the distance I could see the taller building with The Bay logo on the top, but I was now very late and anxious…
DREAMWORK:
Although she/I was dressed like everyone else, she held herself like a queen. The sadness that she carried – I have the feeling for a long time now – was the toxin that made her sick, that she had to expel. The younger woman, who was Latin-brown with long wavy hair, rather dumpy looking, was not there until after I threw up. For she was my shadow, the part of me that believed that I was dumpy, unattractive, invisible, and not much use. I know this about myself, but had not been able to draw her completely out of the shadow. Until now, now that I’ve thrown it/her up, the toxin that’s been poisoning me against myself, my womanhood. You have served me well, my shadow, now it is time for you to go. I thank you from my soul. I thank my masculine too, for taking me to the ‘game’ (the public, the world, but potentially fun and playful), for sticking by me, even when I threw up all over him. Now I rest awhile.
Like the first dream, the second dream also bothered me a great deal at first…
Clearly I am still caught up in the belief that I have to work to survive (I’ve been rather obsessed with the song “I Will Survive” lately), even though I’ve physically left that scene. I couldn’t find a way out because that world is not ever going to help me with that. I have to find it myself. Alex is the masculine in me that is not afraid to show love and nurture unconditionally, and he always sees the good and forgives the bad. I ought to forgive myself this weakness, not even judge myself as weak, and allow the time I need to find my way into balance on this. As other parts of me heal, this will too. I trust in that, and I can let go of control and lean on my masculine for the love and strength I need. He is going to love all these pieces of me, and put me back together again, even better than before.
The ‘bay’ means shelter and safety, a place protected from the open sea and potential storms. I wanted to get to it so desperately, but I was mired in the insurmountable amount of snow – frozen emotions – in the outside world. I had set my sight on the pinnacle of safety in the distance, feeling pressured because I believe I am out of time, almost too old to make it there, to the goal of a secure life in the world, the purported reward of status quo. Getting out of the grind (Loblaw) did not free me from this conditioning of the mind and the fear that feeds it.
I need to go home, to my Self, to love and nurture, to forgiveness and a clean slate, to making new my vows to devote and dedicate my life to the Creator and creation, and rest and relax completely in the trust that Life is guiding me, even when I am not present to it. But when I am here, I can see the guidance.
DREAM that I was a woman with an aristocratic bearing, with her husband at a game or public event of some kind. She was haughty without being arrogant. There was the air of the tragic queen about her. She told her husband that she felt unwell. Next thing she had thrown up and was lying on the ground. There was vomit chunks on the younger woman with her and a little on her husband. The younger woman told her she was leaving. She wasn’t angry but looked put out.
In another dream I was going someplace downtown but accidentally went into a Loblaws warehouse instead. It was full of people and machinery, busy and impersonal. I couldn’t find my way out and the exits I saw required ID but I was no longer an employee. Finally I ran into Alex and begged him to get me out. He talked to some higher-up and told some little fib but got me out. There was a lot of snow outside and I couldn’t go very fast, as hard as I tried. In the distance I could see the taller building with The Bay logo on the top, but I was now very late and anxious…
DREAMWORK:
Although she/I was dressed like everyone else, she held herself like a queen. The sadness that she carried – I have the feeling for a long time now – was the toxin that made her sick, that she had to expel. The younger woman, who was Latin-brown with long wavy hair, rather dumpy looking, was not there until after I threw up. For she was my shadow, the part of me that believed that I was dumpy, unattractive, invisible, and not much use. I know this about myself, but had not been able to draw her completely out of the shadow. Until now, now that I’ve thrown it/her up, the toxin that’s been poisoning me against myself, my womanhood. You have served me well, my shadow, now it is time for you to go. I thank you from my soul. I thank my masculine too, for taking me to the ‘game’ (the public, the world, but potentially fun and playful), for sticking by me, even when I threw up all over him. Now I rest awhile.
Like the first dream, the second dream also bothered me a great deal at first…
Clearly I am still caught up in the belief that I have to work to survive (I’ve been rather obsessed with the song “I Will Survive” lately), even though I’ve physically left that scene. I couldn’t find a way out because that world is not ever going to help me with that. I have to find it myself. Alex is the masculine in me that is not afraid to show love and nurture unconditionally, and he always sees the good and forgives the bad. I ought to forgive myself this weakness, not even judge myself as weak, and allow the time I need to find my way into balance on this. As other parts of me heal, this will too. I trust in that, and I can let go of control and lean on my masculine for the love and strength I need. He is going to love all these pieces of me, and put me back together again, even better than before.
The ‘bay’ means shelter and safety, a place protected from the open sea and potential storms. I wanted to get to it so desperately, but I was mired in the insurmountable amount of snow – frozen emotions – in the outside world. I had set my sight on the pinnacle of safety in the distance, feeling pressured because I believe I am out of time, almost too old to make it there, to the goal of a secure life in the world, the purported reward of status quo. Getting out of the grind (Loblaw) did not free me from this conditioning of the mind and the fear that feeds it.
I need to go home, to my Self, to love and nurture, to forgiveness and a clean slate, to making new my vows to devote and dedicate my life to the Creator and creation, and rest and relax completely in the trust that Life is guiding me, even when I am not present to it. But when I am here, I can see the guidance.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
The Cat & The Snake
DREAM that I was looking at a cat that seemed to be in the final throes of death. Its legs were stiff and stuck straight out, and the right hind leg was missing the foot. It was a soft smoky grey. Its eyes were big and open, with rusty colour irises instead of the usual yellow. There was a slight but persistent tremour in its whole body. I wondered if it could still be saved until I saw the snake beside it, alive and well. Both were looking at me.
DREAMWORK:
Another dream of dead/dying cat… with part/s missing or hurt… element/hint of blood, although I seldom dream of snakes. The cat is the shadow side of my animal nature, so then what is the snake? It is the deeper and darker shadow, the parts of my nature that I reject and repress into unawareness, while the cat is the lighter shadow stuff I have at least acknowledged and accepted. Both are things I haven’t dealt with.
It came to me just this moment, that the cat is the freedom I’ve denied myself, as compromise for something else. That’s why the cat was either dying or living (barely) a severely restricted existence in the dream. Cat wants to be provided for and taken care of, but in our world that comes with a price, and she is forced into domesticity to 'prostitute' herself for food, shelter, and affection. Her natural instinct to roam and hunt and play and mate freely – to be her true animal self – is compromised to a greater or lesser degree. And I am that cat who is selling out, compromising her true Self, denying herself full creative expression, because I want a soft, cushy life. This I have known for some time now.
I remember suddenly that supposedly Eve was bitten on the heel by the snake, and in the dream it appeared that the cat was quite possibly dying or at least suffering the effects of snakebite. The snake and its venom embody all worldly knowledge as well as perennial wisdom, so Woman is born with this powerful and terrible gift, imparted by the original snakebite. This great power can be used for great good or great evil, depending on how it’s harnessed and directed, but if it is suppressed, it will turn on the woman whose container it is and become (her)self-destructive. This is the proverbial wrath that ultimately erupts when the feminine – the force of Creativity – is scorned, or denied expression. This is the next stage of consequence after killing the cat, if I continue to deny my true Self – I, my inherent nature, will turn on myself, again, as I had done in my youth.
As this is still largely in my shadow, I do not have clarity on how I am denying my true Self, or what to do about it. All I can say for what is in my heart is, I want to go on a long retreat (although I don’t know how long) where I am free from the concerns of survival, where I can focus solely on opening myself to divine will and my life’s purpose, to become the best vessel I can be for that work to come through.
DREAMWORK:
Another dream of dead/dying cat… with part/s missing or hurt… element/hint of blood, although I seldom dream of snakes. The cat is the shadow side of my animal nature, so then what is the snake? It is the deeper and darker shadow, the parts of my nature that I reject and repress into unawareness, while the cat is the lighter shadow stuff I have at least acknowledged and accepted. Both are things I haven’t dealt with.
It came to me just this moment, that the cat is the freedom I’ve denied myself, as compromise for something else. That’s why the cat was either dying or living (barely) a severely restricted existence in the dream. Cat wants to be provided for and taken care of, but in our world that comes with a price, and she is forced into domesticity to 'prostitute' herself for food, shelter, and affection. Her natural instinct to roam and hunt and play and mate freely – to be her true animal self – is compromised to a greater or lesser degree. And I am that cat who is selling out, compromising her true Self, denying herself full creative expression, because I want a soft, cushy life. This I have known for some time now.
I remember suddenly that supposedly Eve was bitten on the heel by the snake, and in the dream it appeared that the cat was quite possibly dying or at least suffering the effects of snakebite. The snake and its venom embody all worldly knowledge as well as perennial wisdom, so Woman is born with this powerful and terrible gift, imparted by the original snakebite. This great power can be used for great good or great evil, depending on how it’s harnessed and directed, but if it is suppressed, it will turn on the woman whose container it is and become (her)self-destructive. This is the proverbial wrath that ultimately erupts when the feminine – the force of Creativity – is scorned, or denied expression. This is the next stage of consequence after killing the cat, if I continue to deny my true Self – I, my inherent nature, will turn on myself, again, as I had done in my youth.
As this is still largely in my shadow, I do not have clarity on how I am denying my true Self, or what to do about it. All I can say for what is in my heart is, I want to go on a long retreat (although I don’t know how long) where I am free from the concerns of survival, where I can focus solely on opening myself to divine will and my life’s purpose, to become the best vessel I can be for that work to come through.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
My Muse Girl
DREAM that the phone rang and it was a call from a girl I knew. She was leaving a message to tell me that our class had been cancelled when I picked up the phone. Her voice was mellow and melodic. She said ‘Oh hi!’ with surprise and real joy, because we had some good times together rehearsing our play, which was what the class was. “I miss you!” she said. I said I did too. Then I told her that I had just gone to the class, but no one else showed up except for the teacher.
DREAMWORK:
My shadow girl, whom I felt great affection for. Why is she my shadow then? She was photogenic, young and attractive, poised and graceful, she exuded quiet confidence and self-possession. Creatively, she simply flowed. Energetically, she was the Middle Way. These are things I believe I do not have, and ashamed of not having, though I longed for them, for her (why this took place on the phone instead of in person). She is a muse figure to me.
I haven’t ‘played’ for such a long time, I don’t even know what to do when I hear the message: “You need to play more in your life.” Dear Muse Girl, will you show me how to play again? I am willing and open.
My memory of the kind of play that brought me the most bliss and flow were all from childhood, when I orchestrated improv circle dances or childplay with my cousins and my siblings, or when I played clarinet in ensembles and bands in highschool. Parts of it were there when I put on children’s plays in Sunday school, and even when I tried to organize a spa day with the other practitioners at the clinic, though the key element of kindred spirit and resonance were missing in those.
I see now it is the whole process of creating that lights my fire and keeps it high throughout the project.
To be a part of the entire production, a co-creator who is included at least in the vision, if not all the action, every step of the way.
To feel included and safely held in the web that wove us together in this endeavour.
To see and feel the beauty, the talent, the wonder, the joy, the comraderie, the creativity flowing in and out of all of us and all around us.
To be fed and enlivened by the cause that we all share, for something bigger than ourselves.
To serve that greater purpose with hands and hearts linked together, for the good of the collective first, self second.
Invisible as part of the group, no longer self-conscious. Bliss and belonging will be my reward; a greater love will warm and nourish me. This is what my life is for.
The teacher has come, now I just have to open to the rest of the group into my life.
P.S. So this is why I have North Node in Cancer, South Node in Capricorn, Moon in Taurus, and Venus in Aries in the 11th house...
DREAMWORK:
My shadow girl, whom I felt great affection for. Why is she my shadow then? She was photogenic, young and attractive, poised and graceful, she exuded quiet confidence and self-possession. Creatively, she simply flowed. Energetically, she was the Middle Way. These are things I believe I do not have, and ashamed of not having, though I longed for them, for her (why this took place on the phone instead of in person). She is a muse figure to me.
I haven’t ‘played’ for such a long time, I don’t even know what to do when I hear the message: “You need to play more in your life.” Dear Muse Girl, will you show me how to play again? I am willing and open.
My memory of the kind of play that brought me the most bliss and flow were all from childhood, when I orchestrated improv circle dances or childplay with my cousins and my siblings, or when I played clarinet in ensembles and bands in highschool. Parts of it were there when I put on children’s plays in Sunday school, and even when I tried to organize a spa day with the other practitioners at the clinic, though the key element of kindred spirit and resonance were missing in those.
I see now it is the whole process of creating that lights my fire and keeps it high throughout the project.
To be a part of the entire production, a co-creator who is included at least in the vision, if not all the action, every step of the way.
To feel included and safely held in the web that wove us together in this endeavour.
To see and feel the beauty, the talent, the wonder, the joy, the comraderie, the creativity flowing in and out of all of us and all around us.
To be fed and enlivened by the cause that we all share, for something bigger than ourselves.
To serve that greater purpose with hands and hearts linked together, for the good of the collective first, self second.
Invisible as part of the group, no longer self-conscious. Bliss and belonging will be my reward; a greater love will warm and nourish me. This is what my life is for.
The teacher has come, now I just have to open to the rest of the group into my life.
P.S. So this is why I have North Node in Cancer, South Node in Capricorn, Moon in Taurus, and Venus in Aries in the 11th house...
Sunday, November 14, 2010
The Issue of Nurture for Sepia
DREAM that I passed by a woman in her fifties in a hall or some kind of wide open space inside a building, the lighting was a bit dim. She was pulling out and laying out stuff for 2 women who were staying there. Overnight things like nightgowns, etc., and putting them on the bed. A fluffy, comfy looking bed. She asked me if I would help her. I was suspicious and a bit reluctant but went closer to watch at least…
DREAMWORK:
This is something below my consciousness then, given the lighting. The woman was a shadow element in me, a caregiver and nurturer, a goddess figure. Caregiving and nurturing do not come easy for me. It’s not that I can’t be maternal, but I am reluctant to play the role. The essence of Sepia. I am afraid the giving takes something away from me, so that I won’t have enough for myself. Mostly, the ‘something’ in question is personal freedom. She was a bit older than me, so there is the wisdom and potential in me to become more mature about this, to heal this.
The hall was a prominent and central place, like the Middle Way, where everything else and all the other rooms run off from. It is the hub, the core, the ballast, the eye of the storm, stillness. And this dream is telling me that the issue I have with nurture is the main event of the moment for me, even though I was just passing by, aware of the issue but unaware of how central it is to my growth.
The 2 women she was taking care of and providing for are also shadow parts of myself, even though I did not see them in the dream. I go back into the dream now to see who and what they were… They are parts of myself who have come for some TLC and badly needed nurture, for a cozy, loving nest to rest in, to heal and regenerate. 2 sister parts of myself that need some unconditional and uninterrupted mothering. Their ailments are Isolation and Resignation. Hmmm… definitely keynote symptoms of Sepia. It comes with the price Sepia pays for her independence, to need no one and be free of the needs of others. Being maternal and nurturing is anathema to the Sepia woman who prizes and longs for personal freedom at any cost, certainly at the cost of isolating and resigning herself to many of the things that she can’t afford anymore. Such as feminine nurture, giving and receiving. Tenderness, and anything ‘soft’ or yielding is seen and disdained as weakness, denied and repressed by the masculinized warrior.
I guess I still have some of those armours left on me here and there, cold and numb areas that are dormant, awaiting awakening and life. I’m not sure what they are at the moment, so I ask Source and my dreams for further help with this, also with trusting the Goddess and opening to her, letting her take care of me, mother me, so that I might find the mother in myself and give her expression.
Thank you, Source and my dreams, for this gentle but firm reminder and healing.
__________
It came to me in a flash just now that Sepia is my warrior, who I’ve been asking for since the Warrior Dance in September. Diane had mentioned that everyone has a warrior who stands behind them from their ancestral line, someone of the same gender. I tried and tried but could not feel a connection to mine, until now. Sepia is the archetypal woman warrior of my lineage, the spirit and energy and history of all the women who came before in my family, my clan, my tribe. Thousands of years of patriarchal rule and oppression have made us what we are in this space and time, and although we are women known for our strength, creativity, penetrating mind and deep passion, there is much healing needed to heal the split in us.
Once, when you were whole, my warrior, I beseech you now to come forward and help me mend this terrible wound. Sepia, goddess of the sea, take me back into that rich and nurturing water for the embryonic, let me incubate in the utter safety and warmth of your love, until I am wholely myself and fully human again.
DREAMWORK:
This is something below my consciousness then, given the lighting. The woman was a shadow element in me, a caregiver and nurturer, a goddess figure. Caregiving and nurturing do not come easy for me. It’s not that I can’t be maternal, but I am reluctant to play the role. The essence of Sepia. I am afraid the giving takes something away from me, so that I won’t have enough for myself. Mostly, the ‘something’ in question is personal freedom. She was a bit older than me, so there is the wisdom and potential in me to become more mature about this, to heal this.
The hall was a prominent and central place, like the Middle Way, where everything else and all the other rooms run off from. It is the hub, the core, the ballast, the eye of the storm, stillness. And this dream is telling me that the issue I have with nurture is the main event of the moment for me, even though I was just passing by, aware of the issue but unaware of how central it is to my growth.
The 2 women she was taking care of and providing for are also shadow parts of myself, even though I did not see them in the dream. I go back into the dream now to see who and what they were… They are parts of myself who have come for some TLC and badly needed nurture, for a cozy, loving nest to rest in, to heal and regenerate. 2 sister parts of myself that need some unconditional and uninterrupted mothering. Their ailments are Isolation and Resignation. Hmmm… definitely keynote symptoms of Sepia. It comes with the price Sepia pays for her independence, to need no one and be free of the needs of others. Being maternal and nurturing is anathema to the Sepia woman who prizes and longs for personal freedom at any cost, certainly at the cost of isolating and resigning herself to many of the things that she can’t afford anymore. Such as feminine nurture, giving and receiving. Tenderness, and anything ‘soft’ or yielding is seen and disdained as weakness, denied and repressed by the masculinized warrior.
I guess I still have some of those armours left on me here and there, cold and numb areas that are dormant, awaiting awakening and life. I’m not sure what they are at the moment, so I ask Source and my dreams for further help with this, also with trusting the Goddess and opening to her, letting her take care of me, mother me, so that I might find the mother in myself and give her expression.
Thank you, Source and my dreams, for this gentle but firm reminder and healing.
__________
It came to me in a flash just now that Sepia is my warrior, who I’ve been asking for since the Warrior Dance in September. Diane had mentioned that everyone has a warrior who stands behind them from their ancestral line, someone of the same gender. I tried and tried but could not feel a connection to mine, until now. Sepia is the archetypal woman warrior of my lineage, the spirit and energy and history of all the women who came before in my family, my clan, my tribe. Thousands of years of patriarchal rule and oppression have made us what we are in this space and time, and although we are women known for our strength, creativity, penetrating mind and deep passion, there is much healing needed to heal the split in us.
Once, when you were whole, my warrior, I beseech you now to come forward and help me mend this terrible wound. Sepia, goddess of the sea, take me back into that rich and nurturing water for the embryonic, let me incubate in the utter safety and warmth of your love, until I am wholely myself and fully human again.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Past, Present, Future & Stillness
DREAMed of “2000” and “2021”, with “2011” in their middle. Don’t remember the scene now…
In another part people were frantically trying to order something on line so the system became very slow. I didn’t have anything I needed to get so I decided to unplug my computer from the net, give other people a chance…
DREAMWORK:
2000 – 2011 – 2021. Are these transitional and significant years for me? 2000 certainly was, I call it my watershed year when everything broke apart, turned inside out, and rocked off the hinges. I was in pieces, but I was free. It’s been 10 years in re-assembling and remaking of this new self I have, and I feel absolutely no regret of everything that happened since then. And though I know now that my life is a work in progress for as long as it lasts, it gives me joy, even with the pain, to look forward to the changes to come.
Standing on the doorstep to 2011, I open to the realization of what this dream is telling me. It will be a momentous year, like 2000, another blowing apart of old structures, more revelation of the divine purpose that drives my life, greater opening to Life itself, and I feel most strongly, deepening of the work I am in service of, deepening into that joy of Oneness. It will be year of work, work inside and out, busy and blissful, for the next 10 years until the next scene change.
In 2021 I will be 57, coming into my second Saturn Return. There will be a reshuffling of the order of things in my life, re-prioritizing, the turning of my face in the direction of the setting sun. A golden harkening back and honeying of the work I had done, energy revving down to cruising speed, more taking in of the scenery, less in the fray. A new stillness comes, naturally emerges, unlike the stillness that was needed like oxygen earlier in my 40s, this time it is for distillation. The glazing on the clay, the tempering of the sword, the showering of rice, of blessing, on the newly wedded Self. Saturn will entrust to me the poise and authority of the leader I am to become, and the discipline to uphold the structure my work all these years have finally built and rebuilt, again and again, until it is solid enough to house the will of the divine.
In the second part or second dream I was part of the collective of all the people in the world, yet I felt a easy contentment and quiet amidst the chaotic and frantic energy around me. I felt at once close to them, my fellow humanbeings in their quests, and apart from them, as if I was perched on a branch slightly higher. When I unplugged from the ‘neediness program’ I did it with a feeling of compassion, I wanted to make room for the others vying for space and opportunity. They should have it, if that’s what they desired. I didn’t need it anymore. The judgment and arrogance that I would normally have to keep in check were missing.
I was shown true contentment, stillness that was golden and gently flowing, stillness that was not inertia nor inactivity but detachment without the pain of separation, true wisdom of being. Thank you, my dream and Source, for this immense insight and healing.
There’s no need to fight, shove, run, or kill anything or anyone, good or bad. Just unplug…
In another part people were frantically trying to order something on line so the system became very slow. I didn’t have anything I needed to get so I decided to unplug my computer from the net, give other people a chance…
DREAMWORK:
2000 – 2011 – 2021. Are these transitional and significant years for me? 2000 certainly was, I call it my watershed year when everything broke apart, turned inside out, and rocked off the hinges. I was in pieces, but I was free. It’s been 10 years in re-assembling and remaking of this new self I have, and I feel absolutely no regret of everything that happened since then. And though I know now that my life is a work in progress for as long as it lasts, it gives me joy, even with the pain, to look forward to the changes to come.
Standing on the doorstep to 2011, I open to the realization of what this dream is telling me. It will be a momentous year, like 2000, another blowing apart of old structures, more revelation of the divine purpose that drives my life, greater opening to Life itself, and I feel most strongly, deepening of the work I am in service of, deepening into that joy of Oneness. It will be year of work, work inside and out, busy and blissful, for the next 10 years until the next scene change.
In 2021 I will be 57, coming into my second Saturn Return. There will be a reshuffling of the order of things in my life, re-prioritizing, the turning of my face in the direction of the setting sun. A golden harkening back and honeying of the work I had done, energy revving down to cruising speed, more taking in of the scenery, less in the fray. A new stillness comes, naturally emerges, unlike the stillness that was needed like oxygen earlier in my 40s, this time it is for distillation. The glazing on the clay, the tempering of the sword, the showering of rice, of blessing, on the newly wedded Self. Saturn will entrust to me the poise and authority of the leader I am to become, and the discipline to uphold the structure my work all these years have finally built and rebuilt, again and again, until it is solid enough to house the will of the divine.
In the second part or second dream I was part of the collective of all the people in the world, yet I felt a easy contentment and quiet amidst the chaotic and frantic energy around me. I felt at once close to them, my fellow humanbeings in their quests, and apart from them, as if I was perched on a branch slightly higher. When I unplugged from the ‘neediness program’ I did it with a feeling of compassion, I wanted to make room for the others vying for space and opportunity. They should have it, if that’s what they desired. I didn’t need it anymore. The judgment and arrogance that I would normally have to keep in check were missing.
I was shown true contentment, stillness that was golden and gently flowing, stillness that was not inertia nor inactivity but detachment without the pain of separation, true wisdom of being. Thank you, my dream and Source, for this immense insight and healing.
There’s no need to fight, shove, run, or kill anything or anyone, good or bad. Just unplug…
Friday, November 12, 2010
Tricycle on the Highway
DREAM that I was on a multi-laned highway, riding a child’s tricycle. My legs were slightly too long and the left one was stuck under the tricycle so I had to pull it out by lifting it with both hands. There were many people around on the road but all little kids, toddlers really. One boy in front of me was dragging his jacket on the ground, getting it wet, so I picked it up and threw it over his shoulder for him. He turned around a bit but did not look at me directly. Then I pedalled to move over 2 lanes to the left, though I could only go slowly. I knew there was an exit ramp beyond the intersection ahead on the right and I wasn’t meant to go there. The kids reminded me of the blue-clad children in a heap from a dream last week, a collective. There was a sense of unharried and peaceful order in the dream.
DREAMWORK:
Usually in my dreams I am in a car or a bus or a train, vehicles capable of fast speed, but this one is different. I was amongst small children, though I think I was a bit older, and could not go as fast as I normally expect to. My left leg – the feminine side – was stuck and weak, needing strength and help. The exit ramp on the right was the path to the masculine – the present day world of patriarchy – for which I am not yet ready. I need to stay on this path of feminine nurture – the left lanes – go at my own pace, be the small child that I am and let Mother Nature care for and raise me.
The children around me, as well as the blue-clad children last week, are the archetype of childhood emotional life to me (dream from last Saturday). For some reason I need to return to that state and immerse myself in that world of innocence, wonder, and great vulnerability, to heal my own child and the collective one. That is to be part of my work. I am to look out for them, like the boy with his jacket dragging and getting wet. I am to be of help to them, even if they don’t know me or see me. There is a global feel to this calling, which thrills me and scares me at the same time.
But for now I need to be nurtured, even though I’m not sure how, it does make my whole body and being go still.
DREAMWORK:
Usually in my dreams I am in a car or a bus or a train, vehicles capable of fast speed, but this one is different. I was amongst small children, though I think I was a bit older, and could not go as fast as I normally expect to. My left leg – the feminine side – was stuck and weak, needing strength and help. The exit ramp on the right was the path to the masculine – the present day world of patriarchy – for which I am not yet ready. I need to stay on this path of feminine nurture – the left lanes – go at my own pace, be the small child that I am and let Mother Nature care for and raise me.
The children around me, as well as the blue-clad children last week, are the archetype of childhood emotional life to me (dream from last Saturday). For some reason I need to return to that state and immerse myself in that world of innocence, wonder, and great vulnerability, to heal my own child and the collective one. That is to be part of my work. I am to look out for them, like the boy with his jacket dragging and getting wet. I am to be of help to them, even if they don’t know me or see me. There is a global feel to this calling, which thrills me and scares me at the same time.
But for now I need to be nurtured, even though I’m not sure how, it does make my whole body and being go still.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Masculine, Feminine, the healing continues
DREAM that me, Michael, and our cat Nemo were all in the bathtub and Michael got up and got out, but his body, like a twin, was still floating in the tub. I said, “Aren’t you going to take your body with you?”, as I tried to get his body up. He replied, “No, I have to meditate on Our Father first.” His face was a bit screwed up, his eyes crossed, and he looked like he was sick. In fact, he looked like Ryan Gosling (we had just watched “Lars and the Real Girl” the other day).
In another part I was in our upstairs neighbour’s apartment, although it seemed like the ground floor and quite well lit with natural light coming through big windows. I was trying very hard to clean the mess that others have made. Nemo was there. Other people were there too, coming in now and then. Then she came in after work, tired, and sat down. She had her little daughter with her. I don’t recall much of this part now… I was just trying to clean everything before she noticed anything dirty…
DREAMWORK:
The first part is about the masculine. Michael is my beloved masculine, Nemo is my masculine animal instinct and nature. They are also the two beings I love the most. We are all at home emotionally, safe and secure in our bond. But Michael, my masculine, is sick. In the movie, Ryan Gosling played a young man with a mental illness, a delusion about love which manifested as a projection of his shadow. His mother died giving birth to him and his father became depressed so could not give him the love and nurture a child needed. He grew up without knowing real human connection, and had a phobia of being touched. In my dream, my masculine left his body behind because he had to find and connect to the Great Masculine first, before he could truly own his physical body. This reminds me of Christ’s ascension, leaving his physical body through death while his spirit returned to God the Father in heaven, so that 3 days later he could return to his body through rebirth to show us that we can all be reborn, if we do as he did.
Yesterday I spent much of the day reflecting and writing about the relationship between my father and his father, and consequently my own relationship with my father. And how it all carries on in perpetuity. It began with writing a story about my conversation with my father the night before, and how all these conversations we’ve had define our relationship. I haven’t finished writing the story yet, but I believe it led to this dream, telling me that I need to ‘meditate on my Father’ – in all of his manifestations – to heal, make whole my connection to my masculine. That there is some delusion I have regarding love with the Father needing balance.
It is true that I’ve no memory of connecting with my father as a child, he was so much in absentia, that even as I want to connect to him now as an adult I am not sure how or where to begin. He probably feels the same way with his own father, even more difficult that so much water has gone under that bridge.
Our upstairs neighbour, on the other hand, is also tall, blond and pretty, but much more high-maintenance. She appears to be highly sensitive (and therefore critical) and averse to ‘invasive’ agents or contagions environmentally, though only of the old-fashioned kind: cat, smells, dirt, germs, but not store-bought cleansers, sprays, detergents that are loaded with chemicals and toxins, just as long as they disguise the ‘darker’ manifestations of nature. She seems to me the ever-cheerful type who is mostly concerned about appearance and image, all lightness and pleasantry, but terrified of anything dark or ugly or socially unacceptable. Of course, there is a part of me that is like that, wanting to cover up what’s embarrassing or ‘not nice’, and being so fearful of it that an over-active immune response develops, manifesting mental/emotional fear into physical symptoms, making it ‘real’.
In the dream I was giving my all to ‘erasing’ any trace of mess, dirt, or disorder, because I did not want her to have anything to complain or criticize me for. But when she did come home, she was so tired that she just sat down, her eyes downcast, not noticing anything in her surroundings. Her apartment was half glass and full of light, much like a fishbowl with everything inside on exhibit, though her energy was heavy and dark, the opposite of what she tries to be usually. She is a part of my shadow, and a part of my feminine, but she is sad and tired from trying to uphold that sparkling image of perfection our society deems worthy, just as I am. Her little daughter is the little young me who was taught to reach for that standard, be a good girl, be nice, look nice, please others so they’ll love you. That good girl replaced and stifled the real me, who could never touch that bar.
I am still trying to be ‘good’, the way the world wants me to be. I don’t know how to shake that, but the dream must have the answer in it. Hmmm… the little girl is the key, she is the one who was shaped by society into believing that she has to be good and conform so as to be showered with love and light, that she is not good the way she really is, the way she really wants to be.
She needs to be held in the arms of her mother, who understands because she has been through the same thing, who now throws open her heart and body and spirit to embrace her daughter without reservation, demand, or condition, just pure, soothing, mother love. In my mind, the visual drama plays out between mother and daughter. Everything is golden, everything is love. Incubate in this love until I am healed. I give gratitude for this healing.
_____________
Saturday, November 6, 2010
DREAM that I had a beehive hairdo, jet black, not huge but shaped slightly like a mushroom cap with a bit of a point. This part is somewhat vague now but I think I was doing something ‘good’ for the group…
Then I went out with a large group of people into the streets and we were all working on some event or task. When it was just about over and night was falling, Julius Freilich, the vice-president of the first ad agency I worked for, handed me a device with a cord attached to it, which he disconnected from the device or machine he held, and asked me to download it for him. I took it and said I’ll go get my car and come back, and whoever wants to go back now can come with me. Next thing I was in the car and a guy was in the passenger seat with me. I knew him in the dream because he was part of the group but we were just acquaintances. He was tall and his head on the large side. We were on a wide 4-lane road and I did a u-turn but the car began to fishtail out of control. The guy tried to look out for me and warned me a second before the car brushed by a big pile of kids all heaped on top of each other. I think they were all wearing blue, very ‘uniform’ looking. Even though the car seemed to be spinning wildly its movements were somehow ‘gentle’, so no damage was done. There was even a police car nearby. My passenger was gentle-spoken and never freaked out.
DREAMWORK:
Beehive… busy, up in the head… pointing up, aspiring… my head, is what I can best offer the group…
Julius was a wild-card kind of guy, though small in stature, he always managed to be the centre of attention. He loved the good life and company, always treating the employees in the restaurants and bars we frequented, at his invitation. He was forthright and loud, his every gesture big and forceful. Almost a buffoon sometimes, I think now that was how he disarmed people without ingratiating himself. A good guy, but you wouldn’t want to cross him. I think he is the wild-card in me, but also the part that loves the spice of life and the world, and knows how to get along in the world with savvy and ease, so even work becomes drama and play. And I need to download him in myself.
My passenger in the car was an animus figure as well, but more like a wise guardian angel. He exuded steadfast strength, peace, and safety, and covered me where I could not. I think he was there to keep company and calm, even in a situation where I had no control whatsoever. That situation would be my life, and I am in the process of letting go of the need to control, although I’m scared witless most of the time.
That heap of blue-clad children are the innocent young life I would not want to harm. They were not dead in the dream though they were face down and I couldn’t see their faces. I realize now they are not alive yet either. They are the future emotional life of children, dormant like seeds. They can be nurtured, or they can be destroyed. It is where children are most vulnerable, but also pivotal to their future growth, who they will grow up to be and how. I feel much tenderness toward this, perhaps it is part of my work to help protect and nurture their potentials.
I feel as if my guardian angel is telling me: “Don’t be afraid. I am always with you, and you are under the best kind of control there is. Just let go and enjoy the ride!”
In another part I was in our upstairs neighbour’s apartment, although it seemed like the ground floor and quite well lit with natural light coming through big windows. I was trying very hard to clean the mess that others have made. Nemo was there. Other people were there too, coming in now and then. Then she came in after work, tired, and sat down. She had her little daughter with her. I don’t recall much of this part now… I was just trying to clean everything before she noticed anything dirty…
DREAMWORK:
The first part is about the masculine. Michael is my beloved masculine, Nemo is my masculine animal instinct and nature. They are also the two beings I love the most. We are all at home emotionally, safe and secure in our bond. But Michael, my masculine, is sick. In the movie, Ryan Gosling played a young man with a mental illness, a delusion about love which manifested as a projection of his shadow. His mother died giving birth to him and his father became depressed so could not give him the love and nurture a child needed. He grew up without knowing real human connection, and had a phobia of being touched. In my dream, my masculine left his body behind because he had to find and connect to the Great Masculine first, before he could truly own his physical body. This reminds me of Christ’s ascension, leaving his physical body through death while his spirit returned to God the Father in heaven, so that 3 days later he could return to his body through rebirth to show us that we can all be reborn, if we do as he did.
Yesterday I spent much of the day reflecting and writing about the relationship between my father and his father, and consequently my own relationship with my father. And how it all carries on in perpetuity. It began with writing a story about my conversation with my father the night before, and how all these conversations we’ve had define our relationship. I haven’t finished writing the story yet, but I believe it led to this dream, telling me that I need to ‘meditate on my Father’ – in all of his manifestations – to heal, make whole my connection to my masculine. That there is some delusion I have regarding love with the Father needing balance.
It is true that I’ve no memory of connecting with my father as a child, he was so much in absentia, that even as I want to connect to him now as an adult I am not sure how or where to begin. He probably feels the same way with his own father, even more difficult that so much water has gone under that bridge.
Our upstairs neighbour, on the other hand, is also tall, blond and pretty, but much more high-maintenance. She appears to be highly sensitive (and therefore critical) and averse to ‘invasive’ agents or contagions environmentally, though only of the old-fashioned kind: cat, smells, dirt, germs, but not store-bought cleansers, sprays, detergents that are loaded with chemicals and toxins, just as long as they disguise the ‘darker’ manifestations of nature. She seems to me the ever-cheerful type who is mostly concerned about appearance and image, all lightness and pleasantry, but terrified of anything dark or ugly or socially unacceptable. Of course, there is a part of me that is like that, wanting to cover up what’s embarrassing or ‘not nice’, and being so fearful of it that an over-active immune response develops, manifesting mental/emotional fear into physical symptoms, making it ‘real’.
In the dream I was giving my all to ‘erasing’ any trace of mess, dirt, or disorder, because I did not want her to have anything to complain or criticize me for. But when she did come home, she was so tired that she just sat down, her eyes downcast, not noticing anything in her surroundings. Her apartment was half glass and full of light, much like a fishbowl with everything inside on exhibit, though her energy was heavy and dark, the opposite of what she tries to be usually. She is a part of my shadow, and a part of my feminine, but she is sad and tired from trying to uphold that sparkling image of perfection our society deems worthy, just as I am. Her little daughter is the little young me who was taught to reach for that standard, be a good girl, be nice, look nice, please others so they’ll love you. That good girl replaced and stifled the real me, who could never touch that bar.
I am still trying to be ‘good’, the way the world wants me to be. I don’t know how to shake that, but the dream must have the answer in it. Hmmm… the little girl is the key, she is the one who was shaped by society into believing that she has to be good and conform so as to be showered with love and light, that she is not good the way she really is, the way she really wants to be.
She needs to be held in the arms of her mother, who understands because she has been through the same thing, who now throws open her heart and body and spirit to embrace her daughter without reservation, demand, or condition, just pure, soothing, mother love. In my mind, the visual drama plays out between mother and daughter. Everything is golden, everything is love. Incubate in this love until I am healed. I give gratitude for this healing.
_____________
Saturday, November 6, 2010
DREAM that I had a beehive hairdo, jet black, not huge but shaped slightly like a mushroom cap with a bit of a point. This part is somewhat vague now but I think I was doing something ‘good’ for the group…
Then I went out with a large group of people into the streets and we were all working on some event or task. When it was just about over and night was falling, Julius Freilich, the vice-president of the first ad agency I worked for, handed me a device with a cord attached to it, which he disconnected from the device or machine he held, and asked me to download it for him. I took it and said I’ll go get my car and come back, and whoever wants to go back now can come with me. Next thing I was in the car and a guy was in the passenger seat with me. I knew him in the dream because he was part of the group but we were just acquaintances. He was tall and his head on the large side. We were on a wide 4-lane road and I did a u-turn but the car began to fishtail out of control. The guy tried to look out for me and warned me a second before the car brushed by a big pile of kids all heaped on top of each other. I think they were all wearing blue, very ‘uniform’ looking. Even though the car seemed to be spinning wildly its movements were somehow ‘gentle’, so no damage was done. There was even a police car nearby. My passenger was gentle-spoken and never freaked out.
DREAMWORK:
Beehive… busy, up in the head… pointing up, aspiring… my head, is what I can best offer the group…
Julius was a wild-card kind of guy, though small in stature, he always managed to be the centre of attention. He loved the good life and company, always treating the employees in the restaurants and bars we frequented, at his invitation. He was forthright and loud, his every gesture big and forceful. Almost a buffoon sometimes, I think now that was how he disarmed people without ingratiating himself. A good guy, but you wouldn’t want to cross him. I think he is the wild-card in me, but also the part that loves the spice of life and the world, and knows how to get along in the world with savvy and ease, so even work becomes drama and play. And I need to download him in myself.
My passenger in the car was an animus figure as well, but more like a wise guardian angel. He exuded steadfast strength, peace, and safety, and covered me where I could not. I think he was there to keep company and calm, even in a situation where I had no control whatsoever. That situation would be my life, and I am in the process of letting go of the need to control, although I’m scared witless most of the time.
That heap of blue-clad children are the innocent young life I would not want to harm. They were not dead in the dream though they were face down and I couldn’t see their faces. I realize now they are not alive yet either. They are the future emotional life of children, dormant like seeds. They can be nurtured, or they can be destroyed. It is where children are most vulnerable, but also pivotal to their future growth, who they will grow up to be and how. I feel much tenderness toward this, perhaps it is part of my work to help protect and nurture their potentials.
I feel as if my guardian angel is telling me: “Don’t be afraid. I am always with you, and you are under the best kind of control there is. Just let go and enjoy the ride!”
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