You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Dreams’ tag.

At 4:00 A. M., I awoke with this supportive dream:

It was suppertime, Paris, France. I walked into a restaurant and recognized a fellow traveler from last year’s tour seated at a table near the entrance. I greeted him, but was unprepared for his enthusiastic response; he had been only an acquaintance. To my surprise, more tourists from that group also entered the restaurant and swelled the camaraderie among us. My new friends filled the lonely fissures in my heart. I felt whole.

My psyche gladdened me with this glimpse of camaraderie: a conjoining of male and female energies, an enlivening that contrasts with my waning physical energies.

The time of the dream, suppertime, alludes to the end of day/time, my present circumstances. The image of Paris, France suggests the Sacred Feminine, the former hub of Christianity with its multiple soaring cathedrals, many of which I’ve visited.

The fellow traveler, in Jungian terms, is a positive Animus figure: the Sacred in the disguise of my new friend. A slow trickle of male/female couples pull up chairs to the table and joins us, more evidence of the Sacred. Still the trekker, I welcome each day’s new sightings from my psyche

This dream supports the loneliness of my individuation, in process for decades. Never am I alone, existentially, and for that I’m grateful.

So it’s about the Hebraic conversion of heart, shuv, the ongoing response to my sinfulness, as found in the Mosaic Law. Convinced that I am powerless to effect this existential change on my own, I rely upon the psalmist’s prayer, “Create, O God, a clean heart within me!” or simply, the mantra, ”Mercy!” together with working the Twelve Steps.

In my perception, however, the concept of sin appears forgotten or unimportant by many, from the global elite to street gangs to the politically and socially and academically prominent. Even spiritual leadership rots in its sanctuaries. Few to none participate in the world of the unconscious, source of dreams and spiritual direction. Instincts have a field day spinning subtle errors; recourse to head-language sets norms for what’s called moral behavior, until accepted in common practice.

Such unbridled insanity/sin leave the psyche’s doors wide open for the ravages of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse: war, famine, pestilence, and death. The media reports their galloping the high and low roads of our globe; they are everywhere. Chronic shuddering attests to their presence—No denial or substance abuse can assuage their terror. “Getting back to normal” seems illusory.

As bleak as this scenario appears, conversion of heart still works; its access requires rigorous honesty and humility and simplicity, within the context of prayerful solitude. We are not God and never have been.

At 1:15 A.M., I awoke with this spirited dream:

Alone and in full health, I’m traveling through the Middle East. As I approach the outskirts of a dusty village, an old man with a serene countenance approaches me. On his forearm he carries something colorful. He tells me of tonight’s festival in the square with the fountain; then, invites me to come—Even has a long dress for me to wear so I’ll fit in with everyone.

Later as I stand before the mirror in my hotel room, I discover that the long dress with scoop neck and short sleeves fits perfectly; its hem stitched with tiny brass bells jingle with my movements. I smooth my hand over the coarse fabric, then trace my finger around swirls of vibrant reds, whites, blacks, and turquoises. My shell jewelry and sandals complement my new dress.

That evening, I walk to the square and join the dancing, already underway. Laughter tickles every cell in my body.

This dream speaks of wholeness, adventure, and relationship: wholeness in my robust health; adventure in the exploration of unknown worlds; and relationship in my socialization with others. Introducing me to such experiences is an old man who seems to have been watching for my arrival. He knows what I need for further spiritual maturation: dancing, in the sense of deeper communion with Higher Power, on my way through end time.

He also knows my need for proper apparel to fully benefit from the festivities planned for later and provides accordingly. My reflection in the mirror stuns me, perhaps like the guests attired for the wedding feast in one of Jesus’s parables.

Such dreams hearten me …

Available on Amazon

%d bloggers like this: