This shamanic painting titled I never dream I sing comes from literal experience. Although I consider my singing to be a core element in all my shamanic work--especially calling and feeding my helpers in the Spirit world with song--for a long time I noticed that I never sang in my dreams. I even spent time focussing my dream intention on singing before I went to sleep, but never did I succeed.This chalk pastel work began as a scribble drawing on newsprint in an art mentoring class here on Cortes Island. I was demonstrating how our muse can inhabit anything of our making, if our intention is clear and our effort is honoring. I was gazing into the resulting pattern of scribbles to find a presence and saw the faint traces of what transformed into this haunting scene: youth and wisdom creating the breath of both worlds in song. Still, however beautiful, the finished piece also felt like a dream message of sadness because no singing came in my dreams.
And then one night after a community meeting in which I facilitated a discussion between Island Timberlands, a logging company, and island residents--using all my humble skills and attention to hold a space for the other-than-human wisdom of nature to also be present and to be included in the dialog--I had this dream.A man who is sitting on my left asks me who I am--and then before I can answer he says "you are a shaman with a family." I begin to sing one of my medicine songs to the tune of Amazing Grace. While I am doing this I am aware that for the first time I am singing in my dream.
I think our ancestors and spirit guidance do not waste these precious moments, but save them until the dream sequence can be aligned to an important experience in ordinary reality, and so use these dream messages to be wayfinders along our path.
