Ecstatic Dreaming

I woke up from an ecstatic dream in the very early hours this morning. Crying, shaking, joyous, my heart pounding with the power of it. It took me some time to calm down.  I drank a lot of water. I held myself and let a hot river of tears come. Recovering from knee surgery, I wondered if the dream had been inspired by pain killers, or "just" me, or the divine. Then it came to me: it doesn't matter.

I dreamed of Kali, who is usually portrayed as a dark goddess of destruction, but who is also interpreted to be a loving mother. Post-dream I read up on her and learned that she is a very positive force in the universe, spreading wisdom and striking down ignorance.

"The goddess of destruction has begun her dance in our life to tell us that it is time to face our fears. Without losing the "fear of Kali" we cannot think of achieving her. Fear is actually the manifestation of the self-focused ego. When we lose fear we overcome the baggage and restrictive structures of our self-focused ego. Once this happen, then all that lurks ominously, either buried deep in our unconscious mind or close by in our external environment can be stared in the eye and brought into the light of consciousness. By doing this we lose the fear of the dark forces and the limitations set by the self-focused ego. We start speaking the undeniable truth and we start living the real life represented by our inner self." 

 ~ Karishma J. Anand

The entire dream was about losing my fear and limitations that my self-focused ego has held on tight to for so long.  The evening's vision was filled with loss: homes burning, people dying, people leaving me, me leaving me.  At one point, my frantic fight to gather up the basic utensils of life at a thrift store: bowls, pots, spoons, fabric.  I couldn't hold all I wanted in my arms, and inevitably everything would fall to the floor in a clattering shattering mess.  People from my life would float in and out, and we would talk about life, love, and loss.  One long-ago friend offered to loan me, interest free, all the money I could ever want: money to buy my freedom, money to live my life however I chose.  I couldn't believe her generosity.  The evening before she was to give me the money, her house burned down with everything in it -- including all the money I could want.  Burnt to ashes.  Her life, her things, my hope for the future of my life -- gone up in spectacular flames.

So much of the dream was a kaleidoscope of color and noise - a rushing tunnel through which I was sucked and spun, completely helpless to direct myself.

In one scene I was sitting on a porch with a couple of friends, looking out over a deer filled green meadow -- a paradise of trees and water, fowl and mammals.  I could stay here forever, I thought.  This is where I want to spend my days.

In a whoosh I was sucked back into the vortex only to come into the body of an ancient guru who was dying amongst his people.  He was covered with flowers, and had a serene yet exuberant smile on his face.  I became him in his dying, and was lifted by thousands who ran through the street carrying our body.  Now, here's a real subversive part of the dream:  here I was this ancient wise man in death, reaching out to the crowd and fondling everyone I could!  I was touching chests, nipples, penises and vulvae in a race to bring each person to ecstasy as I was being carried along.  People were having their la petite mort as I was having the big one. 

End of scene.

Drugs? The Divine? Who Cares?

Analyze This

my grandmother and her mother, taken by my great Aunt Bigelow, 1911

In my dream I was riding up in an elevator, pulling something viscous and stringy out of my mouth.  I kept pulling and pulling and soon there was quite a pile of disgusting vomit-like substance at my feet.  A woman tried to get on the elevator and I shooed her away, pointing to the mess and holding my nose.

I walked out of the elevator barefoot and my arms were full: carrying shoes, notebooks, jackets, all manner of things.  I was in some sort of commercial mall or office building in a wide and tall lobby filled with light and people.  They identified me as a 'healer' and I didn't know what they were talking about -- I had wandered into this group at random.  They insisted I was sent here to heal, and as I stood there, incredulous, I felt heat rise up from my feet, into my legs and blast through the top of my body.  As this happened, I floated a few feet off the ground and hovered there, for a moment.

When I touched back down they put a child in front of me and asked me to heal him/her.  I didn't know how in the world I was supposed to do this and I felt as if I was going to let these people down.  Then, just as before, a great heat rose in my body and I felt compelled to embrace the child -- I practically covered them in a classic duck and cover pose.

The child was healed.

Oh My Soul

photo by taradharma

A most interesting dream early this morning: I was wandering about an old friend's house.  She had died and there was an estate sale going on.  I was looking at her treasures, and her everyday items, things I have been looking at my whole life: glassware, toaster, paintings, a piano.  I came across photos taken of me playing in her yard as a small child.  Square small black and white prints.  I snatched them up -- could not imagine anyone else taking them!  They were precious and irreplaceable.

I was drawn to a 2 inch tall blue and white pitcher.  Folk art, rough and simple, like so many items in her home.  I picked that up as well.

I began to cry when I realized that all of this would be dismantled and taken away.  These familiar, objects, which were, after all, just things.  Things forgotten, but still enshrined within those walls.

I had my treasures, though, the things I really wanted.  It was time to let the rest go.

Baby baby baby, give me all the love you've got
Don't you know you've got the best love in the house
I said love, I said love, oh, my soul!

- Little Richard

Home

As the completion of the new house draws near, I am experiencing moving-in dreams.  Not content to dream of this particular house, my subconscious  is constructing scenarios of houses located next to crashing surf; houses in open fields; houses under water.  I am frantically directing the movers to place this here and that there.  I am not sure that these placements are at all right, but I don't have time or energy to work it all out -- and there's no need to drive the workers crazy with my indecision.

If I remember correctly from my Jung reading, water in dreams often represent the feminine, the intuitive and the emotional.  Houses often reflect the psyche.

I'd say that my dreams are pulling from my fretting about the logistics of moving, as well as contemplation of my new, permanent home.  I've been living in a state of suspended animation for 10 months, first at my parents', then in this apartment with my parents.  Most of my material possessions are either with my former wife (now they are my former possessions) or in a storage locker.  I'm tired of this temporary existence, and want some of my life back, in the form of familiar furniture, artwork and nick-nacks.

I've moved a lot in the last decade.  Living in rental homes is a tenuous business, subject to the personal and economic decisions of others.  I've become emotionally invested in the homes I've lived in.  I've made a lot of improvements to the properties I temporarily inhabited.  Then, like an unfixed sand painting, it's gone.  I must begin again.

One Year Later

I was standing at the Crossroads.  I was cloaking my question in general terms, but my question was about my life, my marriage.  One year later, here I am experiencing a very different life in a new city, with family and friends embracing me and holding me up.

I didn't feel I was living authentically, and I didn't quite know how to change that.

I had a dream: to live a more fulfilling life, a life where I was wanted and loved and appreciated.  A life that was free of the chaos I had found myself in -- free to be me and to ask for what I want.  It was possible, I knew, but could I pull myself out of my mental and emotional quick-sand and make it happen?  Yes!  It was a long process, and it was far from easy, but, Yes!

I have found that happy existence now: I can join friends for dinner at the drop of a hat and share good food and conversation -- just a short walk from my home.  I am delighted every day by the places I see, the people I meet, the friends and family I spend my time with.  I can have family stop by unannounced and stay for dinner.

There is nothing earth-shattering about this.  I'm am a soon-to-be grandma who just wants to enjoy her life and learn to knit a decent baby blanket!  I want to read, and see movies, and cook good food.  Take long walks.  Sit in the park.  The bare necessities.  And I want to do all this in the context of good health - mental, spiritual, physical.

I want to enjoy a live baseball game, and blog, and play with my photographs.  I want to drive up into the hills and visit my friends at their forest paradise.  I walk the streets of my neighborhood and soak up all the new visuals, sounds and smells.  Roses in this town are ubiquitous and so very fragrant.  Beautiful Victorian Ladies grace the streets alongside California Bungalows.  Then you turn a corner and there's a gleaming aluminum state office building with 'the suits' standing outside for their cigarette break.

Oh what a difference a year can make.  Change can be very very good.  And it's never too late.  Never.  Ever.  Carpe Diem, my friends.  Like the blog subtitle says, Wake Up! Life is transient, swiftly passing. Be aware the great matter. Don't waste time.

my daughter, moments after she was born in 1988

I had a dream the other night that I had found two identical bundles, wrapped in an unknown material.  Grape leaves? Seaweed?  Holding one of them, I sensed movement inside and began to peel away at the end of the cocoon shaped wrapping.  As I peeled, I was very careful, not wanting to injure whatever was inside.  The wrapping came off with great difficulty, it was slippery and seemingly impregnable.  When I managed to get the top off, I saw the fuzzy scalp of a baby's head and realized that I needed to continue to free this little being.  I placed my hands around the head and began to work rolling back the covering.  It was a tedious process, and took a fair amount of my strength, but it was working and the baby was emerging.  What a gift!  First I'll deal with this one, then onto the second bundle, which, I was sure would be easier, now that I had the know-how.

And on that birth note, Happy Birthday, John and Sean Lennon!