Archive for the dreams Category

And so…

Posted in Autumn, dreams, Forgiveness, Healing, Initiation, Medicine Wheel, poetry on November 9, 2016 by Standing West

We get the government we deserve…

It is decades of greed, arrogance, fear mongering, laziness, stubbornness, bigotry, Jingoism,unbridled Nationalism, and our refusal to play a larger role in our own governance that have led us to this place.

And now that we’re here, what will we do? Will we, as a people hunker down and learn the hard lessons? Will we wake up? Become more politically involved? Learn the power of protest? Change the system that spawned this entire affair? Will we look deeply into the soul of this country and pray for the courage to admit and accept the sickness there? Will we do whatever is necessary to bring about its healing?

Or will we continue on same as before: asses glued to couches and bar stools; bitching about how “the system is rigged” and how “we can’t change anything…”

All the while ignoring the fact that WE are the ones who’ve allowed this to happen.

And yet a soft rain falls. Grackles and starlings peck the earth for a last few seeds before the first snows come. The rain feeds us. Washes away the dust of what came before. It brings life, and assures us green…in time.

We stand in the place of work and responsibility. The time of gathering in what we have sewn.  Soon we will eat of it; letting it carry us through the long dark of winter.

We’ll sleep in our thoughts and plan for spring.

But what will we do when the snow melts and the rivers flow again?

Advertisements

One little push. . .

Posted in dreams, Healing, Inspirational, prayer, Shamanism, Spirituality, visions on February 28, 2013 by Standing West

It’s been an interesting ride, to say the least, balancing a full-time day job along with a marriage, healing practice, online education, and the usual assortment of life-stuff. To be blunt, for most of the last year and a half, there were many times when I felt as if I were literally being drawn and quartered. Some of it was my increasing mundane workload playing against the rapid spiritual changes I’ve been experiencing; but a good deal of it can be chalked up to the cluttered conditions of my own personal head-space.

Eventually, predicaments like this generally end up working themselves out. It’s a matter of muddling through and treading water until the tension breaks. For me, that moment came the other night.

I was blowing off steam about my situation for the hundredth time to my wife (I fully acknowledge how difficult this particular stretch has been for her, and I also realize how blessed I am to have found a partner who, even while facing her own questions about where to go with life, is willing to simply listen and be supportive.) In the midst of it all, I looked up and said, “I’m not asking for much here. I don’t want to hit the lottery. I don’t need to know how it’s all going to work out. I just need a little push. Just a little sign to show me where I’m headed; something so clear that I can’t possibly miss it.”

Tired and frustrated, I went to bed shortly afterwards, and the answers came that very night in the following dream.

I‘m standing in front of a Doctoral level math class, which I’m expected to teach despite my being an English major. Behind me stands an older professor taking notes on my performance. Then I remember that before the class can begin, I need to lead them in a song. I fumble through a hymnal, and before I can find something appropriate, a group of women in the class begins to sing. I attempt to sing with them, and they all fall silent.

I have no clue as to what I’m supposed to lecture the class about, and everyone in the room begins to sense this.

Suddenly, an idea hits me. “What were the problems you covered in the last class?” I ask.

The professor smiles, nods, and starts to write something down on his clipboard.

The class begins to answer, and everything they say goes completely over my head.

The professor steps up to the board, draws a diagram, and begins to explain it to me as if I’m fully versed in what he’s showing me.

This scene fades, and I’m standing in a mall. Ahead of me are the Math professor, a security guard, and a rustically beautiful woman with olive skin and a short boyish haircut. I’m aware that she and I have very strong romantic feelings for one another, but up to this point, we’ve really only flirted.

As I approach the group, the professor and the security guard turn to leave. The woman walks over to me and we embrace. We turn to walk through the mall, our arms around the small of each other’s backs, and she turns toward me and kisses me very lovingly. I return the kiss, and then I feel myself wanting to be more forceful. As I try to kiss her more passionately, I’m aware at my sense of disappointment at how gentle she’s being. With that, the dream shifts, and I’m staring at a bathtub drain with a stopper covering it. I grab the chain, and then I wake-up.

Looking back on it all, the first part of the dream reflects recent changes in my work environment. Due to shifts in the official structure, I now find myself surrounded by highly technical people. I’m often amazed – and not a little bit humbled – by their knowledge. This often leaves me feeling like an outsider. And yet, because of my Training position, there’s often an assumed level of knowledge on my part. Being a non-technical person by nature, it’s ironic to find myself in the position of IT Trainer, and the people around me sometimes don’t quite know how to take me.

The second part of the dream speaks to one of the central issues I’ve been facing since I began seriously walking this path. The woman, a beautiful and earthy balance of masculine and feminine qualities, clearly represents my calling to a life of healing work. I know that should I completely devote myself to it, the practicality and security of my daytime job – as represented by the Math professor and security guard – will completely go away. That being said however, I know that there will eventually come a time where in order to fully serve my Creator and All My Relations, that this is exactly the step that I must take. And yet, as her reactions to my advances in the dream clearly demonstrate, I must be patient, and come to this gently. Otherwise, as the somewhat obvious third part of the dream suggests, I’ll pull too hard, and everything will go down the drain.

Since the dream I’ve had a better perspective on things. The duties of my job are starting to change, and falling more in line with what I’d originally envisioned them to be. My sense of dedication to my healing work has also been renewed. I’ve come to know a deeper sense of peace with myself and my surroundings. And I have been shown, yet again, that the Creator turns no deaf ear to the words of those in need. . .

Gratitude…

Posted in dreams, Healing, prayer, Shamanism, Spirituality, sweat lodge, visions on January 10, 2013 by Standing West

Luke Skywalker: “I don’t believe it.”
Yoda: “That…is why you fail.”

I am no longer amazed by the generosity of the Universe. Instead, I have come to accept it as being as much a part of its existence as the very air we breathe.

I’ve been in a pretty strange place these last few weeks. I’ve been drifting quite a bit, and feeling like most of the world has been slipping away. I’ve been lost, and emotionally rocky, but somehow through it all, I’ve not lost the awareness that it’s simply part of the changing patterns of my life; and that once I’ve walked through it, I’ll be much better for the experience.

As I alluded to in my last post, I attended a very powerful sweat lodge last Saturday which was poured by a very loving Elder whose humble and mirthful ways speak volumes of his power and connection to Spirit. I knew, as soon as the flap came down, that I was in for an E-Ticket ride; and after the sweat was over, I was certain that some subtle, yet powerful shift had taken place. This was confirmed for me when, for the entire next day, I had almost no energy whatsoever. This is odd for me, because generally I feel charged the day after a sweat.

Yesterday morning I woke up sweating and feeling a slight chill. I attributed this to processing what had happened in the lodge and a heavy cold due to recent stress. My calendar at work “mysteriously” cleared the day before, so, taking my wife’s advice, I called in sick.

After feeding the cats and attending to a couple of morning chores I went back to bed. As I was lying there, I decided to open up to the healing energy as I’ve done whenever I’ve given myself Reiki. I lay there, feeling very highly connected to the living energy and Spirit’s presence. I asked Spirit to let the energy flow gently, so I could process it; and in my head I heard a voice very loudly and clearly say the word “LOVE”.

Then everything went silent.

I drifted off to sleep shortly afterwards. I dreamt that my wife and I were in bed. She was sitting there in a white silk robe looking 20 years younger. Her skin was almost pure white, and she was radiant. The blinds were up, and the sunlight was streaming into the room. My head was in her lap, and she started doing some Reiki work with me. Then, she took her fingers and began to press, gently but firmly, into my eye sockets, just above my eyes; a technique I’ve learned to relieve tension headaches. It felt amazing, and I could sense the energy flowing through her fingers and through my brain.

I immediately woke up. I had the slightest headache, which left after a couple of minutes, but the cold, and my emotional issues, were completely gone.

My gratitude for this healing is beyond words. Even now, if I sit quietly for a few moments, I can feel the living energy flowing through me; and I am greatly aware of my interconnectedness with everything.

What a blessing it is to be a part of so much love. . .

Ascension Dream. . .

Posted in dreams, visions on November 29, 2012 by Standing West

Up until two nights ago I hadn’t slept well for almost a week.  I should have realized something was up, because my irregular bouts of not sleeping are often broken by highly vivid dreams or visions.  This time was no exception. I sat with this for a bit and told no one because I wanted to give it time to sink in…to “let it cook” for a while, as an Elder once told me.  Now, I feel, I can effectively speak about it.

In the dream, my wife Marie and I are sitting in a darkened room amongst a circle of women.  I’m beginning to feel out of place here, like this is a gathering specifically for women, and I should leave.  In the center of the room, lying on the floor is a woman who’s requested healing from the group.  A few of the women are on their hands and knees over the woman lying on the floor.  I understand that they’re placing their wombs over her, (representing the unlimited creative potential of “The Spirit Within”), to allow them to act as a gateway for the healing energy to pass through them and manifest itself within the woman’s body.

As I witness this, I really start to feel like an intruder.  I’m convinced that this is a mystery belonging to women only, and that, out of respect, I should leave.

At this point, the woman at the head of the circle, a friendly, maternal woman in her 50’s or 60’s comes over to me and invites me into the back room with her.  We sit on opposite sides of a large desk and begin to talk.  Behind her, on a set of bookshelves are a large number of sculpted frogs (representing transformation), the largest of which is a fountain with water running out of a frog’s mouth.

She begins to tell me about a woman who was there recently who was a well-known spiritual leader.  She tells me that her people went to a lot of trouble building sets for the woman and that, after her lecture, she took the sets with her and paid the people who built them 3 dollars per piece.  The older woman is very disappointed in the lack of respect that their guest had shown for the people who did all the work.  (I feel like I’m receiving a warning here to be wary of fraudulent teachers, and those who are only into it for the money and the fame.)

Suddenly, I’m aware of the sound of rain.  I look out through a screen door which has appeared in the back wall, and see a herd of goats trying to get in out of the rain.  The woman just sits there talking to me, ignoring the goats.  Suddenly the rain turns into marble-sized hail.  The goats are getting pounded, but she continues to ignore them. (This, I interpret to mean that some people just won’t get it until it’s way too late.  I think the notion of  “separating the sheep from the goats” here is pretty accurate.)

Then, the ground begins to rumble, and through the back door I see a wave of earth rolling towards us, shaking the building.  “What was that?” I ask.

“An earthquake,” she answers.

I watch as the wave ripples past, and soon an enormous mountain peak bursts up through the ground, sending another shockwave through the building.

We get up and go to a window on the left wall.  Through the window, I see a gigantic archetypal male form in a fetal position beginning to unfold and rise up on its back into the air. The form is composed of energy, and I’m aware that this means that the Ascension is taking place; that the energy form represents the male-oriented consciousness of the current society, and that it is finally is beginning to reach a higher spiritual level.

I’m also aware of thinking that I should go and wake up my mother, so she doesn’t miss this.  I’m torn, because I also don’t want to leave while this is happening.  Then I realize that even though my mother is asleep, if she’s meant to ascend, she will.

I turn to the older woman and say,” It’s finally happening…It’s finally happeing!”

She smiles.

Next, I see a building all done up in gaudy neon lights, similar to the Luxor casino in Vegas.  From it rises a looming male figure (a cheap neon imitation of the figure I’d seen earlier) ascending towards the sky as crowds of people gather to watch.  It feels hokey, and I keep saying, “This isn’t real…this isn’t happening…”  The woman looks sternly at me, and I add, ”What we’re seeing here…THIS isn’t real.”

She smiles again, and says something like, “Be sure you say that.”

I look up and see a second moon forming in the sky.  The second moon is blurry, as if out of focus.  The second moon  comes into focus and shrinks down to the size of a star.  When it does, a red circle of energy forms around both, and the whole construct streaks across the sky to stop over what I know is New York City.  When it does, waves and waves of fireworks and flames shoot upwards from Manhattan, forming what looks like a mushroom cloud.  I know instantly that what I’m seeing is taking place on a spiritual level, and that it isn’t a nuclear attack.

Suddenly, it’s no longer nighttime.  From the looming mushroom cloud, a billow of smoke forms into an enormous, ghastly looking fly and swoops down towards me.  I’m unafraid, and I hear a voice in my head – my own – saying, “it will appear to some people as a fly.”  (I know in the dream that I’m remembering a prophecy that I read.  The prophecy indicated that most people will only perceive the physical events taking place around them, and will miss the spiritual implications completely. )

Now I walk away from the window.  I meet my mother walking in her sleep.  Her body is bent at an odd angle, and her hair is white and straight with short bangs. When I wake her up, her hair becomes curly and gray, and her eyes turn a golden yellow / brown.

Now we’re in the basement of the place.  It’s a cavernous basement many floors deep.  Here and there are the remains of white brick walls.  The floors have been ripped out, and the older woman who talked with me  is going about some kind of ritual work.  As she does this, a group of young men come in.  One drives a vehicle adorned with snow fence and pieces of junk made to resemble some kind of fantasy creature (or maybe a triceratops).  Another, dressed in a barbarian costume swings a heavy sword at it.  The third man, also dressed in fantasy style (black leathers and green quilted vest) gets run over by the vehicle. (This, I interpret as our getting lost in entertainment, video games, and movies while the world crumbles around us.  We escape into other people’s dreams as our own fall away.)

After this, Marie and I are walking through the streets of a city that is filled with trash, but almost completely devoid of people. Ahead of us, in the distance, is the mushroom cloud.  I stop and grab a paper from a newsstand.  The headline reads, “A City on Fire.”  I page through the paper and the newsy, an Iranian man, tells me to put it down and grab another one, the reading copy, to look through.  As I open to the title story, I see photos of mutilated corpses.  These are undercover cops who’ve been working on infiltrating the New York Mob and have had their cover blown.

This confirms for me that the events I’ve been witnessing have taken place on two levels. On one, it’s a spiritual ascension.  On the second level, the city is beginning to devour itself, and the average man, embroiled in the media hyped crap and petty struggles of the day, has missed the whole thing.

I set the paper down (I don’t “buy it”), and Marie and I resume our walk toward the mushroom cloud.  I’m aware that my perception of the city is metaphorical, and that even though to me it seems almost completely deserted and overrun with trash,  to the ones who haven’t ascended, it appears the same as it always has.  I turn to Marie and say, “How can I go back after this?”

She looks at me and says, “you can’t.”

It is at this point that I wake up.

I’m still sitting with this, but even after this short a time, I know this to be a life altering (and affirming) dream.  I’m sure there are implications here which will affect me for a long time to come…

 

Looking Northward. . .

Posted in ceremony, dreams, Inspirational, Medicine Wheel, prayer, Spirituality, Sun Moon Dance, visions on July 9, 2012 by Standing West

Today is July, 9th.  In 10 days I’ll be stepping into the arbor again for the Sun Moon dance at Birdsong Peace Chamber in Pottstown, PA.  Perhaps “stepping into” isn’t really appropriate, for I feel as though I’ve never completely stepped out.

This will be my fourth Sun Moon dance.  As the directions go, I’ll be dancing in the North, the place of spiritual healing, where the blessings of our visions are received.  I can’t even begin to predict what that might mean – not that I’d even attempt to in the first place.

Those who routinely read this blog have probably noticed a recurrent theme of late.  Over the last few months, I’ve been blessed with several important dreams, journeys, and visions during which I’ve found myself in the presence of indigenous Elders.  This, I’m sure, is not unrelated to the direction of the upcoming dance, because the North is also the place of Wisdom, and the Grandmothers and Grandfathers who carry it.

I’ve also noticed, for the last several months, that my heart is beginning to open in ways I can only describe as “magical”.  When the Monkey Mind starts chattering away and rattling the bars of its cage,   I find myself sinking into love, or rather, allowing the love that’s always there to move through me and out into the world.  With this the mind falls silent, and contentment floods in to fill the empty space.

I’m grateful for the teachings I’ve received, and ask only to become a hollow bone; that their wisdom and light might flow through this body and out into the world that the People may live…

This, Too, Shall Pass. . .

Posted in Coyote, dreams, Inspirational, Journeying, Shamanism, Spirituality, visions on June 19, 2012 by Standing West

During a journey the other day, I found myself in the presence of a circle of Elders.  The air was filled with a heavy sense of purpose.  It was obvious that the Ancient Ones had called me here to stand in the presence of Power.  The oldest Grandfather handed me an Eagle feather, and presented me with a ritual I would need to perform every day for the next 31 days.

Immediately a litany of excuses tore through my mind.  Surely there wasn’t enough time for me to perform the ritual before work.  I get up at 4:00 every day as it is.  And I certainly couldn’t do it after work.  There were books to read for my classes and patients to journey for.  I stood there absolutely powerless as these and other equally invalid objections raced through my head.

The feather was taken away as quickly as it had been offered.  The Elders continued watching me without judgment. Next an ornate wooden cup was placed on the ground before me.  The cup was filled with a shiny liquid, so black it reflected everything in the lodge.  Without hesitation I took the cup and raised it to my lips, draining it nearly to the bottom.  I emptied the remaining liquid upon the ground as an offering to Spirit, and I heard the voice of the Elder who’d initially handed me the feather.

“The path of the Visionary is not for you.  Instead, you will walk the path of the Healer.” 

Upon hearing these words, I was filled with a sense of place.  There was no regret at my initial resistance to the offering of the feather and its required rituals.  Instead, I felt as if I’d finally arrived.  I knew now the direction my life would take, and for the first time, I felt my spirit exhale.

I thanked them for their teachings, and left them with gifts of food, tobacco, skins, and a sacred pipe.

During a second journey that day I was given a healing song by an Ancestor Spirit.  The Elders, it seemed, had more than made good on their word.

As the week wore on, this sense of purpose continued, and I began to feel detached from the usual distractions around me.  It was as if I’d left a good portion of my attention “over there”.

Enter: Coyote.

In his breakneck, howling, and often infuriating way, Coyote invites us to dance with the darkness of our souls.  His tauntings and misdirections often flood those murkier parts of ourselves with the light of our own awareness; calling upon us to examine them closely, and challenging us to accept these things as part and parcel of who and what we are.

Last Saturday, the Ragged-Assed One decided to send me a teaching in my dreams.  I was standing in the bathroom, and discovered that I had blood in my urine.  I decided to ignore it, but further attempts yielded the same results. As I couldn’t deny it any further, I instead decided to pay attention to it, and immediately observed the swirls of red and yellow blending together.

I awoke, writing it off as a “crazy dream”.  Yet something about it had unsettled me to the point where I found myself snapping at my wife. There was no logical reason for my outburst.  We hadn’t argued or found ourselves at odds in any way.

No, this energy was flowing from a deeper source.

As I tried to push it aside, a rage welled up inside me, followed by a heavy sense of confusion as to where it was coming from.  Finally, unable to locate the source of this emotion, I decided it would be better off if I just embraced it and sat with it for a while.

In that moment, the dream came rushing back.  Yellow: the color of the East, and place of vision.   Red: the color of the South, and place of emotion.   Coyote was showing me that regardless of everything I’d learned about myself in the last few days, I wasn’t ready to move on just yet.  And that even though I’d been given a vision of the purpose of my life, there was a darker, emotional part of me that couldn’t be ignored; and that struggling against it would only lead to greater consternation.

I thanked Coyote for his teaching; and laughed at the earthiness of his dream. In his own visceral way, the Mongrel Trickster was telling me that all I could do was accept this part of myself, and that in the end, this difficulty would pass. . .

Posted in dreams, Inspirational, Medicine Wheel, prayer, Shamanism, Spirituality, visions on May 9, 2012 by Standing West

The Elders come to visit me in my sleep.

Mud Runner, a Medicine man with long grey hair swept back across his forehead by a red bandanna shows me the proper way to pour tobacco and cornmeal around the Wheel;  teaches me to drink tobacco water to enter sacred space.

The next night I wake up chanting.  The vision of an African man with short-cropped hair and steel gray eyes escorts me to the waking world on currents of whispered syllables.

We live in a world where sacred cattle are slaughtered.  Where millions starve and social programs are shut down to fund the ever-increasing threat of global war.  Our children’s lunches come from laboratories, and the oceans blacken with oil.  Chemical spills and nuclear mishaps poison the Earth and the Sky.  And the wealthy retreat to their enclaves and wait for the storm to pass.

The system is broken, and there’s nothing we can ever do to fix it.

We’ve swallowed the lies for so long now that most of us have become fat and lazy.  We stretch and yawn a bit whenever something taps against the window, but rather than investigate, we shift our eyes back to the screen and wait for the commercial to end.

We bury ourselves in other men’s dreams and pay them for the privilege.

And yet the Elders visit me in my Sleep. . .

%d bloggers like this: