Thursday, December 30, 2010

A library full of seeds


Around the turning of the year, I make time to look over old journals. This is part of the ongoing process of composing a life story. It also helps me to keep track of my dream double, and how far and wide he has traveled beyond the milder adventures of my waking self.

Just now I turned up the following dream report from May 2003:

A LIBRARY FULL OF SEEDS

In my library, I am surprised and delighted to see that a shelf has been partly filled with white-covered booklets, in stacks facing outward. These booklets resemble large packets of seeds. The covers are somewhat spackled by time and weather. I have the impression that they have been brought out of old trunks and boxes, including boxes bequeathed to me by a scholar of an earlier generation in my family.

The first brochure I examine is on dreams, and contains the text of an ancient dream - possibly the dream of Scipio (recorded by Cicero) that was central to the medieval study of dreams. As I look over the stacks, I see that the brochures have been organized alphabetically and cover a tremendous range of information. Some titles are the names of countries.

I am excited by the prospect of using these materials. I glance at the larger bookcase on my left, and notice that quite a range of books I had not noticed before (or were not there before) are now on the shelves, including a volume from the chunky Cambridge Medieval History series.

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I find this a cozy and comforting dream in this winter season, when I am at home for a few weeks, reading wide and deep, and letting the seeds of ideas and stories germinate inside me.

10 comments:

Wanda said...

I love this dream of seeds and seeding. What beautiful imagery to describe what happens when we mine the knowledge of the past - like the old seed packets from trunks and other places and the old texts - and re-plant it with the perspective of new experience. You do this masterfully.

Justin Patrick Moore said...

Johnny Applegate, son of Johnny Appleseed has a lot of good work in store for him come 2011

Irène said...

Clarissa Pinkola Estes, a Jungian therapist, author and storyteller, often proposes garden work to her clients as a literal approach to creating a bridge between the conscious and unconscious mind/world. I read that she would recommend to all her clients to have at least one house plant to take care of in order to observe what happens, quite literally, to the seeds we've planted. Do we plant them in appropiate soil? Do they have adequate (not too much, not to little, perhaps not direct) sunlight and water, etc. I've been thinking about the New Year and will now think of what I can
plant, inside or outside the house (hmmm, interesting just to ask the question) to honor this New Year's energy. ... I think I'd better have a look at what's "growing on" inside & out beforehand. As I write these words, I see from the corner of my eye the quiet, neglected yellow leaves of my ficus dropping to the floor. So I guess I'll get started on triming up my house plants (I've got 2 days left) and taking care of the life I've got before I ask to see the new seeds of 2011.

nina said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Worldbridger said...

The only problem I have when confronted with a dream such as yours is the sheer impossibility of ever transcribing even a millionth of the vast storehouse I see. I guess that's why dreaming is shared - it can't all come through only one person.

Robert Moss said...

Wanda - Yes, I love the image and the potential of seeding ideas and stories too. I am reminded of the Mohawk word for "interpreter", which you and I have had occasion to discuss. It means literally "one who transplants from one soil to another."

Robert Moss said...

Irene - I think Clarissa may have that right. Hearing from you, I am reminded of a more recent dream in which I am preparing for a big event at a bookstore whose name is something like "Haven Chive". I have chives growing at my back door, though I won't be picking them until long after the snows are gone.

Robert Moss said...

Nina - Lovely dream of the Belvedere, which I have seen only in winter, leached of color. How wonderful to find that garden dreams mark important transitions. You are reminding me of garden dreams of my own, and of a vision from a group journey (in wide-awake shamanic lucid dreaming) of a garden of the heart.

Robert Moss said...

Worldbridger - I'm more gungho that you about how much it is possible to bring through, though I readily agree it is grand and desirable to secure the active engagement of others. Since this dream, for example, I have published my own version of the Dream of Scipio (in my "Secret History of Dreaming") and ventured deep into medieval history in my travels, research and writing (see the chapter on Joan of Arc as a voyante in my "Secret History", for example). Many other seeds from that seed library have also sprouted.

Sal Ruiz said...

Robert - If it were my dream, I would take it that I was being advised that my delving research and investigating nature would potentialize new leads, worlds and areas of discovery - especially in the ways of how the ancients experienced, deciphered, and finally lead to recording of their dreams to re-"mind" them.
Lastly, because it was to my left (or, your left), I would say that I
was being shown how to reconnect with that ancient understanding by way of looking into the Medieval historical texts of the ancient world--especially what medieval texts exist in the countries/languages of the world that were in my dream.
Mele Ke Liki Make y Feliz Ano Nuevo!
Mon Ami...