My dreamspace is filled by a great animate power of synchronicity. It is growing bigger and bigger, until it bursts into the physical world, like a great Mother Bear with many cubs. While most people can't see her, they'll find the tracks she leaves, mysterious but meaningful, and for at least a moment they'll slip free from linear understanding into the dream logic of the world-behind-the-world where synchronicity is born and grows, again and again, until it has to burst into everyday reality.
I was thinking about this, walking in the park and watching red and gold leaves skittering away in a moody wind, when my BlackBerry throbbed in my pocket. I found a fresh email from Robyn Johnson, a poet, photographer and teacher of Active Dreaming who lives on the edge of a nature preserve on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State.
She included the photos above, with this report: "Look who came strolling into our backyard from the neighboring preserve! Yesterday I was working on my computer just before dusk and looked up to see this mama and her two cubs. They nosed around exploring and then came up towards the house.
"When I grabbed my camera and slipped out onto our deck, mama called to her babies and scooted off into the preserve. I’m sure they’re around for the free salmon dinners being served up daily compliments of the coho, in the bay. It was a day of synchronicities. When I looked up to see these magnificent beings I was writing an email to my daughter congratulating her for a breakthrough story she wrote about her dreaming. It was also my mother’s 94th birthday.
"I awoke this morning singing our Bear Song. What a thrill seeing those three bears."
I shared Robyn's sense of blessing. The timing of her message, with the three bears, seemed lovely confirmation of what I had dreamed, about the synchronicity beast growing bigger and bigger until it simply HAS to burst into the world, perhaps for a salmon dinner...