Friday, March 4, 2016

Find your personal myth through Active Dreaming

Myths are collective dreams that often begin with individual visions. Our dreams give us personal myths, and connect us with the collective dreaming, with humanity's neverending stories. Consider these.


I sense the iron inside my body, and I know that it is the dust of an exploding star. The iron in my body connects me with the supernova that created my galaxy, and as I move and stretch I feel the whole cosmology is alive in me. 


Our Lady of Guadalupe is leaving us. I see her starting to rise up off the sun-parched earth where her children in Mexico have been savagely abused. I am saddened to think that the cruelty and ignorance of humans may be losing us the support of higher powers. 


I go to my special place in nature, by the white pines along the creek. For the first time ever,I find no solace here. I feel separate from nature, after separating myself from the hurry of people at the office. I try to imagine myself going deep inside the earth and finding refuge there, but today I can't manage that either. What has happened to divorce me from nature? Is it me, or is it all of us? 


I am at a train station. I encounter an old woman with her daughter. Their heads are those of ravens. The old woman turns to me and her feathers turn white. The white-capped Raven Woman says to me, "Things are all happening too fast in your world. It's time to lift off. We'll come back at the right time." With this, she flutters up into the air. I realize that from her perspective it's possible to see far across time and space, beyond our present confusion. 


I come to a living tree, There is the living face of a woman in the bark of the tree. The tendrils of her hair are like the serpents of Medusa. Now a great bull comes, stamping and snorting, magnificent and scary in his virile strength. As he stamps down, his hooves take root in the earth and little by little, he becomes part of the tree. I am amazed that the bull energy can be rooted and grounded like this. I want to plant this strength around me, in my life. 


I am on the track of a part of myself that has been long buried in the ground. I feel the presence of a being that loves me, holding me by the shoulders, gently supporting me. The name of the woman that has been buried sounds like Michelle but is actually My-Shell, the part of me that had to hide and make itself small. I will dig as long and deep as it takes to bring her back to me. 


These are summaries, in exact sequence, of dreams and visions that were shared by members of an Active Dreaming circle that I lead in my home neighborhood. Not only does each report have mythic power; it is possible to read the whole sequence as a single mythic narrative.
    It starts (where else?) with the creation of our world. It dramatizes the perennial danger of the Dark Times that come when human behavior forfeits the support of higher powers and estranges us from the Earth. It introduces uncanny guides and living symbols: the woman who becomes White Raven, the bull (primal power of the ancients, consort of the goddess and preferred form of the gods) who becomes a tree. It brings the story home to us in the invitation to a personal quest for soul recovery, to bring out of the Earth what has been kept safe there through a time of trouble and trauma.

Art: Tree Message by Annick Bougerolle


Patricia said...

All I see is me riding a horse and wearing my simple ivory dress. A deepening of my sensing enfolds into this dream space. I smell the green and watery freshness. Then my senses grow wide and I hear the songs of birds rich in this space of no cars, beeps, or the buzz of artificial light. My body quivers from this hearing then my senses grow narrow. I feel the touch of dress on skin and the steady rocking of my pelvis with the rhythm of the horse. A sense of time as I might feel a slow reach of my arm lengthen into space, flows in and I travel to my body in bed. Before I can make it back to the dream, a train sound enters the room. Louder and louder until I am fully awake in my bed. I stay still feeling the warm electric fuzz whole through out my body. I smile as I move with larger range of motion then before I went to sleep. I imagine receiving this fluid dream has melted the tissue fuzz that grows between the layers of muscle fascia at night. At four in the morning I drink water. I get my clay out and sculpt a simple goddess figure of wide hips and buttocks. I am vice-regent to the Great Goddess. I am alive with many shapes and dresses.

Thank you for that vice-regent wording Robert.

snodoggirl said...

I am so moved this morning read this blog. I feel all of it and it excites me. I need to be excited as I have been covered up. My little wings clipped. Not now. They are unclipped thanks to being a part of this incredible dream group.

Thank you.

Roll Cage Mary said...

Why entertain images of a Virgin or crow-headed crones who
cut-and-run when 'fruitful courage' is needed? Is that
not playing into the 'weaker sex' imprinting.....bring on
the empty unicorns and brain-dohs