Thursday, December 2, 2010
DREAM that Michael and I were staying in a large livingroom on the groundfloor of a large public building, like a big hotel or conference hall. There were sectional sofas around the room. Suddenly the ceiling overhead separated along its perimeters and lifted upwards until it met the ceiling of the next floor up. I remember seeing the edges of the ceiling fold in slightly, as if it was made of fabric or some kind of flexible material instead of plaster and concrete. It was a saffron yellow colour. We were shocked and scared by this, and it was just darkness upstairs around the ceilings. So we decided to move over into the next room, which wasn’t really a room because there was no wall, just an understanding or perception by the dropped ceiling structure and the furniture that it was another room. In large hotel lobbies you see this sometimes.
In another dream I was eating with some people at a kitchen table. My host was the man of the house. I was eating a mango salad of just slivers of mango and nothing else, shoveling it into my mouth like a robot. Another guy, maybe Michael, was sitting to my right. Our host stood up to clear the table and said that he was going to put aside some food for his wife who was back there somewhere in the house. He took my plate and took some of the mango salad then gave it back to me. He was friendly and easy-going. I was kind of dull and on auto-pilot.
DREAMWORK:
The spiritual ‘ceiling’ (limit) of my life within the context of my collective (whoever they are) had just been raised. Saffron yellow is a colour I love and one I associate with spirituality (buddhist monks’ robes) and hope and life, like sunflowers. The ‘ceiling’ appeared to be organic and flexible, and either had a mind of its own or there was a mind behind it that controlled it. There was extraordinary care in the way it crimped just enough to avoid damaging the edges when it began to move. It was like a horizontal ‘veil’ that lifted, and Michael and I have been on our individual and collective journey for just that moment. Although when it did happened we were so startled and afraid because it was so unknown to us. It seemed to just go into a darkness we could not see past, and we were afraid of what might fall out. Perhaps I ought to ask to be shown what’s up there… through another dream.
Mango is also that same bright orange yellow and one of my favourite fruits, though I was eating it like it was a bowl of noodles. I was eating it definitely without tasting or savouring it, a dish that’s so full of flavour and colour and pleasure. I wasn’t enjoying it. I am not enjoying my spiritual food, even if it is only a salad, an appetizer. Why is it tasteless and joyless to me? Because I’m tired of the automatic feeding, even if it is now me who’s doing it. I have been conditioned to keep eating, keeping taking stuff in, even when I don’t need it. There’s probably nothing wrong with the food, or the knowledge, or the wisdom; it is me who is not ready to take it in and make use of it and enjoy it. As a vessel, I am not ready to receive. So my host, my animus, is taking some of it away to save it for the time when I will be ready, for the time when my feminine, his wife, will come to the table and be fed too.
Am I mindlessly stuffing myself with spiritual learning, whether it’s good for me or not? I am, the answer came. At least that’s what I have been doing for the last few years, as I have what can be called an ‘open appetite’ for learning. But it is time, and I have been feeling this lately, to focus on one path. I have been feeling the need to clean out my closet of all the pieces and loose ends of all the faiths, religions, philosophies, and practices I’ve taken in and accumulated. Some I’ve used, some still in their wrappers. The latest one is my time with the Six Nations Sacred Fire, in other words, Native American teachings and ceremonies. I felt very clearly that I am finished with it during the last ceremonial weekend we spent there at the end of November. A few days later I started to read Osho’s book on Daoism, and knew with certainty that it is my path.
Now I am debating whether to go to the workshop this weekend on indigenous wisdom and ecology, because after reading the founder’s personal story of how she returned to her own indigenous roots, I was quite moved and felt maybe I should go. I also liked the idea of the storytelling format for the workshop. But are those reasons I ought to go, or are they just exciting ideas of stimulation to me? I want the experience because they seem new and novel to me, and yes, I could very well learn something, or meet someone, but is it my path? I am a millimeter away from saying yes to it, I have planned to write an email to them tomorrow morning first thing with my reply.
No comments:
Post a Comment