The power of dreams

One of the nice things about writing a weekly blog that very few people are reading is that occasionally I can say outrageous things and no one will notice. I am now beginning to think that Marc Bregman is the dreamtime Antichrist, spreading evil by disempowering the dreamer’s ability to receive meaning through her own knowing, thus necessitating the sending of dreams to strangers in order to receive revelation.

I acknowledge that in recent blogs I have praised Bregman’s radical non-interpretive approach to dream work, as described by Roger Kamenetz, and I am still impressed with many of the points made: that the meaning of our dreams are manifest in their images and our feelings rather than in hidden layers of encoded symbols; that often “bad is good and good is bad” when understanding our dream characters and their actions; and that dreams present a fracture in the logic of their structure or sequence (i.e. waiting to board the ferry while seeing there is no ferry or terminal) which allows an entry for meaning.

Instead I am disquieted by the apparent belief of Mr. Bregman and his followers that I, the dreamer, am the least trusted to see the true meaning of my dreams. I feel deeply that the giving away of my faith in my ability to understand my soul’s progress in my dreams is the beginning of the darkest night of the soul that I can imagine.

I asked the Journey Oracle to show me about this situation and I drew this card. This fantastic turkey is the image of the Celtic tree month Ivy. I was especially drawn to the four themes of meaning associated with the tree month suit: Connection, Exchange, Intuition and Power. This is my relationship with my dreams. At some point, as a child, I walked out on my imaginary companions. I must have because I can no longer remember their faces or call their names. Sometimes when the dark is cold and quiet I feel I still hear that slamming door. But I cannot walk out on my seeking meaning in my dreams. The sound of that door shutting would be the death of my spirit.

Choosing a life path

What helps us to radiate the energy of the life path we choose to walk? While at a community event last night a young friend said, “You are certainly looking shamanic these days.” He quickly qualified this by saying there was something in my manner and my energy that felt shamanic, and not that I was wearing something or behaving in a way that could be labeled shamanic. I smiled and said, “Lots has been going on,” and then later wondered to what I was referring in that brief exchange.

Many projects begun over the stretched-tight dry days of summer are now coming to fruition. Drums that seemed to languish have found their names and faces, a painting that felt stalled has moved to the framer, clients for shamanic work are returning like the rain who’s blessed sound drums on these days of autumn. Yet other projects are going quiet from a summer’s heat of effort. My promotion of the Journey Oracle deck is not so public right now, because these divination cards in their hand-crafted cases are undergoing changes in printing, which will make the price more accessible. I am also beginning to gather the earlier spirit-directed layouts for reading the cards into an exciting advanced workbook.

And the answer to this question? I think we radiate the vitality that the energy of making a choice gives us. When doubt and indecision plague our awareness—our physical, emotional and spiritual energy is blanketed by a fog that chills through our bones like the grey light of November. It seems that what matters is to choose, to decide; what matters is to act. Why am I looking shamanic? Because I am acting shamanic.

Full moon meanings

The three days of the full moon are each filled with a special energy, and any one of the three is appropriate for gathering--depending on what a group might want to do. Some practitioners of the Old Religion say the waxing first day of the full moon is for increase, the full second day is for reckoning (accounting) and the waning third day of the full moon is for clearing, and/or for sending wishes to manifest within the month of the next full moon...which would then be welcomed on the day of increase and "reckoned" on the full moon day and on and on.

Each of the four card suits in the Journey Oracle is associated with themes of meaning. The full moon cards carry the themes of Discipline and Trust. It takes discipline to honestly reckon the way in which our intentions and wishes have manifested across our month of daily experience, and certainly it takes trust to cast our desires like a shimmering net out to the next moon, hopefully to catch what we need more than what we want.

Discipline and trust are best not treated as conditional. Discipline lives at the core of responsibility. It means feeling what is required, and doing it, more than negotiating or interpreting what is known of that responsibility. Trust lives in the rarest atmosphere of all. The one that surrounds us when we feel that someone or something is depending on our actions. Trust relies on discipline like the tides need the full moon. Ultimately, the only question that really matters is this one that came in a dream for the Blue Moon card in the Journey Oracle.

New shamanic art

I have just finished a new shamanic art piece and now see that the lesson in this work is about “painting what is not there.” Water is a very strange substance to render visually. The surface is always shifting and only visible at all because of what it is reflecting in each moment. This is also how I understand the experience of the alternate realities, whether these be the dream worlds, the subtle ah ha we feel when we catch the significance of a synchronicity in time and place, or the way that metaphor and analogy can shimmer on the edge of our awareness in the moment when we grasp their larger correspondences.

Often our response to this shifting water experience of seeing and not seeing is doubt. In my shamanic mentoring practice I counsel so many people who know what they have seen, and just as quickly doubt that anything was there to be seen. I often have clients experience a shiver of insight during a Journey Oracle card reading, only to doubt that such an awakening will make any real difference in their situation.

Richard Wagamese writes so beautifully in Keeper’n Me about how we all have to search out our own truth and find our own life. How do we find what is true for ourselves when mostly what we see is a reflection? For myself, I am learning to stop asking so many questions and just watch. Watch the day, watch the weather, watch the seasons always transforming in each moment. In this painting, titled Reckoning, I watch my truth emerge in a bear skull and water and the shifting of life and death back to life.

Dream Counseling

Like most people, I resist change when it first comes into my awareness. But sometimes that moment of awakening is so compelling and complete that the change happens in the turn of my head, or in my pause between breaths. I have recently been reading The History of Last Night’s Dream by Rodger Kamenetz. His bold advice to stop translating my dreams felt like being told to “Wake up!” and my sleep hasn’t been the same since.

Following his guidance I have been able to enter my dreams at a completely different level of meaning, derived from visuals and feelings rather than symbols and words. I went to bed last night thinking about what the Journey Oracle cards could show me about this new way of being with dreams and thought of this card.

During the night I had this dream: I’m going with First Nation women to what appears to be a restaurant. Inside I see many babies in rows on several beds. Each is in an open CD cello storage envelope. None are crying or fussy; all seem to be either quietly waiting or sleeping. I touch one child like I am going to pick her up but she turns away from me several times, each time seeming to grow older and larger but still not showing me her face.

I associate First Nations women with emerging potential and enduring strength; especially I feel this of the Klahoose first nations women I know here on Cortes Island. Yet the “hole in the dream” that Kamenetz refers to suddenly became the question, “What are all these children doing in CD wrappers?” I store my divination decks of cards in these cello envelopes, and often display the individual cards in rows. I realized that these babies are the Journey Oracle card decks, waiting for me to go more deeply, but to what?

I have always thought of understanding each card, and especially of understanding the story that corresponds to each card, in a way parallel to translating a dream. Perhaps translation is not what is called for. Perhaps they are waiting for me to “return to the source” and receive meaning from visuals and feelings. Perhaps the dream work is not to be kept in the night, but brought as a counselor into the day, teaching me a new way of finding revelation in the Oracle’s spirit-directed art.