From Bruce:
May 15th 2018
A man is at the sight of a large ‘western’ dam, at a mountain top where a room is flooded, up to the knees (?), children are playing, the water is warm and inviting—and there he is with his former wife who was never his soul or body’s desire. Somewhere the words; ‘second visit’ were stated---and the words:” come on in, the water’s fine.” The door (and maybe the man too) are swinging open and shut between worlds, and traversing as we all do, the same spiral dance of our lives that offers us the opportunity to negotiate the same hurdles but in a new form. DAMN!
Another man finds himself in a line of people in a wooded scene where across a small creek there stands, and sits, the M.C. of this affirming ritual at a grand piano, playing music while he ‘orchestrates’ a ceremony to bless and celebrate the lives of each
Participant. The man waiting his turn notices that the M.C. bears the same name that he has, and the name also carries the name and invitation that Abraham (and Sarah) followed to enter a new land.
Apparently these invitations to try a new thing do not stop at a certain age. (Abraham was 100 +) and Sarah too became pregnant at such an age. Second chances abound high on mountains and in in wooded forests—water seems to always be present. . . the water of life, grief, redemption, the unconscious? Take your pick.
And finally: a woman has with her, or in her, a ‘tiny car’ as she is about to have an operation in the hospital. She fears that this precious small vehicle will be stolen and has it squeezed into a small cabinet. She is cold, and the nurse asks her why she has left the door open? The dream group seemed befuddled by this small dream but remember: She has ‘left the door open’ to all of this. Perhaps even a skilled group of dreamers and healers ought to let the open door bring unexpected events. One dream participant even evoked Rumi’s “The Guest House” where a ‘wind’ blows what is familiar around and away. Let this dreamer’s cool wind
bring a new adventure . . . that we cannot name or predict. Hospitals are where dramatic events involving change occur.
Maybe the usual vehicle she moves around in must be crammed into a closet at times. Who knows?
Friday, May 18, 2018
Wednesday, May 16, 2018
From Bruce....
April: come she will . . . (4/17)
Spring arrives with her journeys along the various elements.
Water surrounds us always: rivers and oceans and atmospheres of higher mind calling to be explored. The current is swift and precarious and calls us to the right/write to find our way to solid land . . . where perhaps . . . what is fluid and esoteric might take earthly form? Perhaps the dolphin is the Hermetic link between those worlds—supporting and leading us toward the feast awaiting us. The cheese? The “milky” way/whey waiting for us to partake?
Another journey is unfolding on the earthly mountain top that holds its own danger . . the danger of going down. We seek safer routes to our destinations and the wise elder honors limits; at the same time that same elder in that same living room spoke of singing his great song, or not! Is going down carefully the only message from the mountain top? Moses saw the spark that ignites the universe burn but not consume that bush; the fires that burn within on harsh mountain tops give us the vision to see what we miss from down below. (golden calf worship being omnipresent) but that great song! Not to be ignored or to ‘lose sight’ of.
And yes: the partner, the friend, or the guest is being stalked (?) by a great lion, a beast that lives not in this land, a foreigner with great strength, not to be denied. Is the queen in danger? Great mystery and uncertainty lurks here. Is what we call danger in the stream, trekking down the mountain, or with a fierce creature, risk to be denied or maybe, the wake-up call so we “don’t go back to sleep.”
Our dream ‘cave’ is older than ancient Greece and probably as playful as modern Grease if we don’t take ourselves to seriously.
There’s nothing to fear, it’s all ‘in the cards’ so beautifully drawn by the visiting artist, thank you Carmen for reminding us.
(again, please excuse my projections within the mix). B
April: come she will . . . (4/17)
Spring arrives with her journeys along the various elements.
Water surrounds us always: rivers and oceans and atmospheres of higher mind calling to be explored. The current is swift and precarious and calls us to the right/write to find our way to solid land . . . where perhaps . . . what is fluid and esoteric might take earthly form? Perhaps the dolphin is the Hermetic link between those worlds—supporting and leading us toward the feast awaiting us. The cheese? The “milky” way/whey waiting for us to partake?
Another journey is unfolding on the earthly mountain top that holds its own danger . . the danger of going down. We seek safer routes to our destinations and the wise elder honors limits; at the same time that same elder in that same living room spoke of singing his great song, or not! Is going down carefully the only message from the mountain top? Moses saw the spark that ignites the universe burn but not consume that bush; the fires that burn within on harsh mountain tops give us the vision to see what we miss from down below. (golden calf worship being omnipresent) but that great song! Not to be ignored or to ‘lose sight’ of.
And yes: the partner, the friend, or the guest is being stalked (?) by a great lion, a beast that lives not in this land, a foreigner with great strength, not to be denied. Is the queen in danger? Great mystery and uncertainty lurks here. Is what we call danger in the stream, trekking down the mountain, or with a fierce creature, risk to be denied or maybe, the wake-up call so we “don’t go back to sleep.”
Our dream ‘cave’ is older than ancient Greece and probably as playful as modern Grease if we don’t take ourselves to seriously.
There’s nothing to fear, it’s all ‘in the cards’ so beautifully drawn by the visiting artist, thank you Carmen for reminding us.
(again, please excuse my projections within the mix). B
From Bruce....
Dreaming questions that probably won’t be answered: 3/20/18
Should the messages chronicling the world’s worst inhumanity be expunged from the ‘large’ metal pot or be preserved and remembered?
Should the dream-time invasion of a friend be embraced with open arms or tossed into the compost heap? And might the composting itself be the greater teaching?
Have I sung the great song I was called to sing? Has it eluded me or am I indeed singing it to an audience of one; whose voice is pure and whose feet are bare as she stands upon the stage built for her? And I have yet to face the gilded presence of El . . . what might THAT be like?
And oh my! On the day that my poetic search into the heart of a poem is published I am invited into a mythic underworld ‘down’ in ancient Mexico where sacred steamy vapors drift over secret hieroglyphs. I say I am lost on this path but I’m eager to consult the voice of the oracle in order to be launched on to planes of reality that I don’t yet comprehend. My questions are numerous.
We are considering our legacies, but clearly there is much
living to do in the (stew) pot where we find ourselves, in the house that is ever being deftly invaded with teachings, where we are being jettisoned from reality to reality and where perhaps, all we do is being chronicled in a great library. (go to the rear of the archives dear, and check the Akashic Records under “Great Song.”)
(please excuse my all too constant projections)
Dreaming questions that probably won’t be answered: 3/20/18
Should the messages chronicling the world’s worst inhumanity be expunged from the ‘large’ metal pot or be preserved and remembered?
Should the dream-time invasion of a friend be embraced with open arms or tossed into the compost heap? And might the composting itself be the greater teaching?
Have I sung the great song I was called to sing? Has it eluded me or am I indeed singing it to an audience of one; whose voice is pure and whose feet are bare as she stands upon the stage built for her? And I have yet to face the gilded presence of El . . . what might THAT be like?
And oh my! On the day that my poetic search into the heart of a poem is published I am invited into a mythic underworld ‘down’ in ancient Mexico where sacred steamy vapors drift over secret hieroglyphs. I say I am lost on this path but I’m eager to consult the voice of the oracle in order to be launched on to planes of reality that I don’t yet comprehend. My questions are numerous.
We are considering our legacies, but clearly there is much
living to do in the (stew) pot where we find ourselves, in the house that is ever being deftly invaded with teachings, where we are being jettisoned from reality to reality and where perhaps, all we do is being chronicled in a great library. (go to the rear of the archives dear, and check the Akashic Records under “Great Song.”)
(please excuse my all too constant projections)
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