Monday, July 25, 2011

Thanksgiving in July


Today is the 23rd anniversary of the day my husband got "Rolfed by a Buick," as he puts it. We celebrate the fact that despite getting hit as a pedestrian while standing on the sidewalk outside the train station and spending six weeks in the hospital, he is pretty much unscathed today.

What also comes to mind is the power of dreams to give us a heads up, as well as, the reality of psychic resources that become available when the manure really hits the fan.

Jim didn't keep track of his dreams back then, but he was well aware of how important they are to me. That morning, as I dropped him off to catch his train into the city, he turned as he was getting out of the car and said, "I had the weirdest dream last night." "Oh," I said, "what was it?" He replied; "I don't remember much, I just know I'm supposed to stop and smell the flowers."

I can't help but wonder what warnings that dream may have contained, and whether, if we'd had the whole dream memory that morning, it may have given us some kind of clue to help avert this less than happy event.

Still, with the consolation of hindsight, many good things did come of it. One was the certainty that help is available from sources beyond ordinary reality. Jim recounts how when he saw the car barreling towards him at a speed he knew made it impossible to evade it, he told himself, "I don't want to be here for this." He witnessed the rest of the gruesome happenings outside of his body. He also told himself to get his weight off his feet, and that saved his life.

In the hospital, from ER to ICU, he relates how a voice, not his own, in fact one that from the timbre and accent sounded like that of an African American male, kept up a continuous narrative of everything that was happening to him and around him, making him feel much calmer. It would explain medical procedures being performed for him or tell him who was outside the room waiting to see him.

Every July 25th since that day in 1988 has been a day we both feel especially grateful and glad to be alive. It's also a day where I give extra special thanks for guides and teachers and dreams.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Dream Humor


I love to pick a theme or image or guide or animal or something that I can trace back through my dream journals and see what comes up. This means I scan my dream titles and speed read the journal entry to see if what I'm looking for is in this dream.

On such a quest, I discovered this incredible gem of a dream from a year ago. I'm posting it just as I recorded it in my journal. I didn't do any more than write it down and I don't even remember dreaming it, but oh, what a wonderful laugh it gave me now. I also read it to my husband and several friends and we all love it.

For sheer sense of humor, this is a powerful dream, let alone, for the rich layers of meaning I can mine in the characters, plot and action; yet, it's not until now, one year later that I realize what a cool dream it is. Keeping a dream journal pays off in the short and long run.

April 12, 2010
My Pet Gorilla

My parents and I have a gorilla in our care. They tend to be really strict with him and deprive him of many things he wants to keep him in line. They go out and I’m in charge. I decide that what he needs is to enjoy some of what he wants, so I take him to the mall and give him some money and tell him to behave. I have to leave and I say I’ll meet him later., He’s a little more rambunctious than I would have liked, but, all in all, he’s well within reasonable behavior, I think.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

The Power of Dreams to Heal



I will soon facilitate an all day workshop for a very committed group of healers in graduate level training. I'm focusing the day on the healing power of dreams; dreams heal us body and soul.

In his foreword to Wanda Easter Burch's excellent book about her experience healing from breast cancer, "She Who Dreams, A Journey Into Healing Through Dreamwork" Robert Moss says this:

"Dreaming is healing. Our bodies speak to us in dreams, giving us early warning of symptoms we might develop, showing us what they need to stay well. Dreams give us fresh and powerful images for self-healing. Dreams are also the language of the soul; they put us in touch with wells of memory and sources of creativity and energy far beyond the clutter and confusion of the little everyday mind. Beyond this, dreams are experiences of the soul, and can take us - sleeping or hyper-awake - into realms where we can have direct access to sacred healers and teachers."

I know from personal experience that this is true; perhaps, you do, too. What I find so wildly exciting is the thought that access to this wellspring of healing energy may be in the process of going mainstream. Perhaps dreaming is reaching the hundredth monkey. If healers are practiced at dreaming and utilizing the benefits of dreaming, they will pass this healing practice on to the many people who come to them for help.

Once a significant number of people are paying attention to their dreams and acting on dream wisdom, a real healing transformation is possible for each dreamer, for whole communities and for Mother Earth. A dream connection teaches us to take responsibility for ourselves, for our own healing. It makes us open to new creative ways of solving our personal and planetary problems so we can dream a different future for ourselves than the dismal violence wracked apocalypse favored by patriarchal religions. A future where we're not motivated by fear and self-loathing because we're each directly connected to Spirit and have confidence in Love.

Possible or impossible? If an individual dream has the power to heal us, how much more can be accomplished by a shared dream?

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Sole Responsibility


Facing death, understanding that it is inevitable, leads to lots of philosophical questions. I particularly like what Ecclesiastes says in the Old Testament; “Naked came I into this world and naked I shall return.” To me this means that I have sole responsibility for my soul; this is the vessel I’ll ride out of here, so it’s up to me to steer, both here and once I cross over. I can’t let anyone else interpret the meaning of my life because no preacher, teacher or lawmaker is going to cross with me, let alone, for me. The dreamer is the only interpreter of her or his dream; my life, my soul, my crossing is my sole responsibility.

Dreaming is the bridge between these two realities for me. I live in this plane and I live on other planes, mostly at night, in dreams. It’s important to keep a balance, pay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, recognize the laws of waking, material existence and thrive there. The Taoist’s philosophy of Yin and Yang teaches that opposites can be balanced and when they are, we exist in harmony. Yin/Yang is a dance of opposites constantly in motion, flowing from one to the other.

Waking/Dreaming is also such a flow, such a dance.

I don’t remember a dream from last night in words, I remember it in the afterglow of feelings, like I'm returning from a very enjoyable experience. I woke feeling contentment and that’s the feeling I carry into my day; it colors my actions and words, my outlook and thoughts.

I take from the teachings of this waking world, its religions and philosophies, whatever feeds my soul; I reject what I feel shrinks my soul. From my dreams, I get the strength, courage and humor to live the best life on this planet I can. I offer these thoughts in case they help you. Jesus got into a lot of trouble for claiming to be his own authority, but he was right. The kingdom of heaven is within; all we have to do is pay attention and trust ourselves. “Naked came I into this world, and naked I shall return.”

Thanks again to my dear friend, Mally DeSomma, who gave me permission to use her beautiful painting.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

When A Loved One Dies


I'm sitting here thinking about my wonderful neighbor who this week lost his younger brother to cancer, and who had to make the choice, along with other family members, to take him off life support. Will his brother comfort him in a dream? Can he help his brother gain better footing on the other side; is there anything he can do for his brother now?

So many people have told me wonderful stories of dream visits from their beloved, and even not so beloved, dead. I take it for granted that dreaming provides a solid connection for people on both sides of the great divide who want to get through to one another. When people don't pay attention to their dreams, the hope of connecting to their beloved is sometimes the catalyst to bridging that gap and, perhaps, becoming a life-long dreamer.

Last post I quoted Robert, "a dream is a place." Death is a place, too. Perhaps, as Shakespeare intuited, the places we go in dreams and the places we go in death share a lot in common. All things are possible in dreams; perhaps the same is true in death. Robert has written about our lack of an "art of dying" in western culture; he believes the art of dreaming true provides connection for those leaving and those grieving. I heartily agree.

I remember the dream support I was able to offer my own mom when a few weeks prior to her death, she told me a dream where my dad, who had died six years earlier, was lying with her in bed. I shared with her how if it was my dream, I would feel my husband's loving presence and know he was there for me, waiting to help me cross over. Dreams offer immense comfort for the dying and the grieving; they can also provide a bridge across dimensions that allow relationships to continue and grow.

An art of dying? I've read that the majority of citizens of this planet believe there is some "afterlife". How many believe it involves bliss or damnation, reward or punishment? Religions promote various dualistic scenarios which involve these concepts in some configuration; followers are encouraged to tow the party line or pay the price.

What if after our personal experience of death, we have a personal experience of the afterlife? (A wonderful discussion of this is to be found in Deepak Chopra's book, "Life After Death: The Burden of Proof"). What if it depends on how acclimated we've become to inhabiting non-material planes, a continuity of dreaming in some fashion? Can dreams rehearse us for a possible afterlife; can they help us choose what that afterlife can be?

From my perspective, living on this side still, I feel great joy when I remember the dreams that have shown me what my soul might want after the crossing. Eternally? I don't know; perhaps we just keep dreaming our path. That dream self I see in almost every one of my night dreams, she might be my avatar. The better I get to know her, the better I know myself. I've seen her fly, face her monsters and dance her spirit; she makes me feel hopeful and gives me confidence that I will be alright when the moment comes to leave the material plane of my beloved planet Earth.

I know that the experience of being left behind by some dear person or sometimes, a beloved animal friend, really, really hurts. I've lost my mom, dad and others who have meant so much to me. If I suggest to someone newly grieving to pay attention for a dream visit, I phrase and time that suggestion carefully. I don't presume to offer a quick fix for the pain. I know from my own experience and those of many others who've shared theirs with me, that there is comfort in dream visits. For me, these visits have offered so much more than solace, as you may have read in some of my previous posts on this topic. I'm also careful to explain that dream time is very different than our time; a visit may come instantly or take months, even years to arrive. Usually, if we're paying attention, it comes just when we need it the most.

May each soul who crosses find a path of joy and fulfillment; may each soul who remains stationed here on Earth find a link to his or her beloved dead in the safety of dreaming.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

DreamTiVo: Dream Memory and Dream Juice


A friend emailed me that she had a wild and crazy dream the other night. All she remembers, she said, was that it was a musical, not a familiar one, something brand new, all original songs and lyrics. She found it funny and exciting. Even across cyberspace, I could feel the thrill this dream held for her. She said; “As soon as I woke up I wished I could have DREAM-TIVOED it.” Bingo, I thought; of course you can! Good handle for dream re-entry, DREAMTIVO.

Knowing her love and talent for writing, I replied enthusiastically; “If it's my dream, I'm going to sit down and write as many songs, even just the lyrics, that I can, in honor of my dream. Even if I can't actually remember the dream narrative, the spirit of it is enough to get me going. I'll give the musical a title and craft it's story. Maybe I'll design the staging, etc., too.” A good way to jump start this adventure would be to relax first and re-enter the dream, look around and dream it forward.

Sometimes all that’s needed to re-enter a juicy dream is lingering energy, emotion or images. Often, in my daydreaming state, new details return of the actual dream. It doesn’t matter how much or little of the dream I remember; it’s charged with energy. It's like getting a free pass into my own personal amusement park. Why would my inner creative child ignore this invitation?

Dream “juice” as Robert speaks of this energy, can last for days, weeks and even years. There are dreams that still thrill me; dreams I could re-enter alone or with friends anytime. I can also peruse my journals to find dreams with juice I may have forgotten. I’ve often experienced how time effects a sea change in a dream’s energy. Here's an example I posted in March of 2011, Erotic Dreams.

The possibility I hold out to my friend and to any dreamer is that, no matter how small the memory trail your dream leaves behind, you can slip through that little bitty dream gate and be back in the world of that dream. Robert often says, "a dream is a place". I invite you to think of the dream as a place, a locale you travel to, not a figment of your imagination (or as I prefer to call it, a pigment of your infatuation), but another dimension, a parallel existence, that you can re-enter at will, using imagination to fuel the journey. As with any cross-cultural travel, the more you visit, the more familiar you are with the differences from your normal existence and the more comfortable you are going there.

It all begins with our innate ability to sleep, perchance, to dream.

Monday, May 16, 2011

The Lesson of Rita’s Woodsman: The Dreamer is the Only Authority on Her or His Dream


A couple of years ago, when I was leading a wonderful group of women dreamers, all completely new to dreamwork, I experienced the powerful truth of Robert’s teaching on the absolute authority of the dreamer as interpreter of her own dreams, as well as the juicy power of Lightning Dreamwork to en-soul even an almost forgotten dream of power.

A lovely woman in her mid-forties, whom I’ll call Rita, shared a dream with us that came to her during the drumming. To her amazement, the dream was at least 20 years old, one she reported she’d often dreamt in her childhood and teen years, but had not remembered for many years.

In her dream, she’s in a very deep woods but she’s sitting at a lovely white vanity table in front of a mirror brushing her long beautiful blonde hair. In the mirror, she sees a very big woodsman coming up behind her. He’s a very big man, carrying an axe. Her dream ends.

She told the group that this dream puzzled and intrigued her until she learned it’s meaning from a psychologist friend of her husband’s. When she was first married, she related the dream to this friend at a social gathering; he enthusiastically proceeded to ask if she’d had the dream since she met and married her husband. Rita couldn’t recall that she had and told him so. “Aha,” said the psychologist, “the dream is obviously dealing with your adolescent sexual tensions. The woodsman represents your desires and fears about men and sexuality. You’re sitting at your vanity; that’s showing you your vanity as a young woman who wants to be desirable but is also afraid of male sexuality. When you discovered sexuality with a man in reality, your dreams stopped because the issues and tensions the dream signified were resolved.”

“Hmmm,” I said, “maybe, but I’m curious, how the dream made you feel – do you remember?” “Yes,” she answered, amazed at how clearly she could recall these feelings, “I was never afraid; he never seemed threatening even though he was huge and carrying such a large axe. I always felt calm that he was there.”

I didn’t do the reality check right then, that came later, but when I asked her what she wanted to know; she wanted to know who the woodsman really was and if the psychologist had been correct about him.

“Well, if this is my dream, I said, “a couple of things come very strongly to mind. One is the story of Paul Bunyan, although I don’t know it very well, I’d want to read about it.”

Rita sat up with a beaming smile on her face; “Paul Bunyan! I loved that story as a kid, it was one of my favorites!” He was the strongest and biggest man ever born!”

“Well,” that’s neat, I replied, “because it also brings to mind the biblical connection of hair with strength, pride and spiritual connections, hence the practice of not cutting the hair by Nazarenes like Jesus and also the dangers of cutting your hair and losing your strength like Samson.” So if this were my childhood and adolescent dream, I might see in it a way to access the birthright of my personal strength and power. I would like an ally like Paul and maybe Babe, the blue ox, so I’d maybe re-read those stories and think about how they made me feel, and I might also keep them around and call on them in times of need or to dialogue with them as guides and teachers. I might re-enter that dream and see myself at my vanity (or altar) in the woods, brushing the strength into my hair and feeling protected and safe anytime in waking life that I need to summon my courage for the challenges at hand.”

It turns out that Rita, (reality check) was facing some personal tests in her family that required her to be strong. She didn’t share much, since I gently discouraged too much personal revelation, but she said she remembered how her family had always praised her for unusual strength of character, something she hadn’t thought about herself in years.

It was clear to all in the group that Rita felt very differently about her dream and, judging from the energy she vibrated and the sparkle in her eyes, she felt differently about herself, as well. To honor the dream, she was going to do one of her favorite things, cruise the antique stores (again, a pleasure she’d not pursued for a while) and find her white vanity. Her bumper sticker; “My strength is inside me, always.”

Witnessing Rita’s experience, the whole group now understood how important it is not to project your interpretation of a dream that isn’t yours on to the dreamer; yet how powerful sharing your intuition of the dream as if it were your own can be. We all saw how dreams retain their juice over a lifetime and how they return when invited, to feed our souls just when we need it the most.

In my wonderful experiences as a teacher of Active Dreaming, I often find that the single most difficult thing about the Lightning Dreamwork process for many people is to hold back their judgments and projections and, instead of interpreting, tap their intuition in a genuine way, truly making the dream their very own. Playing “analyst” seems to be a role that’s easy to slip into, maybe because it’s so much easier to see the “speck in our neighbor’s eye and miss the log in our own.” as Jesus pointed out.

For me, the magic of dream sharing happens when I truly put myself in the moccasins of another’s dream and walk inside it myself. My feelings, my memories, my intuitions in symbol or thought form spring up spontaneously. I’m free of the responsibility or audacity of giving correct answers and appearing guru-like in my awesome powers as dream interpreter. Instead, I get to play in the landscape of another’s dream and bring back the gifts given to me, just in case they can be of use to the dreamer.

In this process, I’m conscious that there is more at work than meets the I, my personal ego. There’s me, there’s the dreamer and there’s that amazing third Participant that’s greater than just us. When a group finally experiences how this works, the dreamwork becomes rich and deep, fun and powerful. The energy of the dream moves like lightning around the group, crackling with genuine dream illumination, not only for the dreamer, but in some intimate way, for each person in the group.