Breaking the surface, I tear off my mask and gaze into the deep blue sky. I add air to my BCD, lean back and allow the salty sea to support me. Gazing at the moon on the far end of the horizon and the reflected light rays shining across the water, I ponder my place in life. Millions of stars flicker overhead, like skies of my childhood. An astronaut caught between worlds below and above, I murmur, “Nothing but the Universe and me.”
20AugDiving in the Dark
Most of all I remember the way my grandmother transformed ordinary encounters and daily experiences into magical occurrences, ones that later would feed my imagination for stories I would write. Of all these precious memories I still remember a pesky squirrel that climbed the screen door on the back porch hoping for a handout. My grandmother encouraged me to feed it, and as a result it became a daily visitor at her backdoor.
When the goddess releases her desires to what is the highest well-being of herself and others, she makes decisions that represent her highest values. And while her ego resists, her soul knows it must answer the call from its sacred source. For in the cave of the wise heart of the goddess is stored the deepest healing for both the hero and goddess, and the truest form of love.
Much of the hare story about the connection of Hares to the season of spring has its origin in Celtic mythology. It is a story that was absorbed into other cultures, religious traditions and rituals commonly celebrated around the time of the vernal equinox in the northern hemisphere and associated with the Christian holiday honoring the resurrection of Christ.
This blog post is about a dream that inspired me to open a box of old letters and photos belonging to my Great Grandmother Nella Seymour, my Grandmother Floi Tyler and my Mother Katharine Grey. After I recorded the dream in my journal and shared the dream with others using The Lightning Dreamwork Process, I determined what the dream meant for me. When I became the final authority of my dream, I experienced great joy bringing the results of its meaning into my waking life. Below I describe the way I worked through the dream and the things I learned after putting the Action Plan into place.
The world speaks to us with signs, symbols, messages, coincidences, and synchronicities. Active dreamers become aware of the gifts of magic in these special moments of awareness. Active Dreamers are choosers. They learn they are the final authorities of their own dreams, that dreams are more than symbols to be dissected and analyzed, and that the dreamer has the power to choose his/her attitude in any situation. Active Dreamers know they can change the dream of life, that thoughts, words and actions create and project their perception of reality.
After attending a dreaming retreat in the Adirondacks of Upper State New York this month, I returned home inspired by the talented men and women who had shared their gifts with open hearts. I began reflecting upon the lessons I’ve been learning through the practices of Active Dreaming, ones I often share with others in dream circles or express through my writing and photography. I realize that the study of dreams is a lifelong journey which requires disciplined journal keeping, in depth research, and connections with other dreamers.
Dreams are the fire of the imagination, a place where one finds the dragon that wakes us up to what is possible. On this adventure, I found that dragon, a blue one who discovered he has more than smoke left in his belly. And I tasted some Romanian soup for the body… and for the soul, a reminder that the light of our gifts will provide all that is needed for creating the best reality from our dreams.
As I’ve aged, I have thrown some soles away when they no longer served a purpose, and I have imagined other versions of myself in other times wearing different shoes. Most importantly, as I look back upon my life, I have tried to stay authentic to the Higher Self, recovering and honoring the parts of Soul that are the brightest parts of myself.
His family asked for donations to a fund for esophageal cancer research. That just did not seem enough for me. I chose to set aside a number of $100 bills to tip people that Sal would have enjoyed. I was not prepared for the joy that I received by giving a $100 tip. It has become quite addictive.