Someone Has to Look After the Youthful Wild Boys

I am moving back into my night dreams through a liminal state. I see board pieces from a previous dream fall away. Then I am watching and I am part of these bears birthing from a cave. It is intense and hard work to be birthed past this membrane that has been nurturing us to full fruition. We are joined together in an unwavering movement of birth. As witness it is rather beautiful to watch the form taking place. I love the faces of these Bears. I travel as witness for a time watching them shake their fur into being. They stay together as pack which seems evolutionary or a uniqueness on a soul level.

Then that sensation of softening into an expanse comes in. Kind of felt like how you step from indoor space to outdoor space with quiet and deeper awareness. Now I am in a dream of exodus. There has been a happening and what could be salvaged was in a covered space. We are refugees and must travel onward to find a new home.  I am having to assert myself to get my dyne that my mother gave me. I take note that it is the same blanket I am sleeping with in my physical body in bed. A man announces that we all need a towel, which has me thinking of Douglas Adams. Maybe this is dimensional upheaval? I am asked to hold vigilance for a few young wild boys. This is not a new request as I often accept responsibility for the young wild boys. We land the night on a strange landscape where the grass is red. The sky is becoming more available to our senses. The boys wish to bunk in a cave. I am done arguing that this is not a good idea, they should stay with the others on the open grassland. I stay just outside the cave so I can watch them and help watch for the openings in the sky. I see one is digging in some small cupboard built into the cave. He finds this strange spider like creature that is plastic and goes to scare the other boys. I see the live one under the cupboard wake up, it is a trap. The hand sized spider like creature moves to go after the boy. I run, putting on my work gloves and grab the thing and kill it. That's it! Look at what happens when you are reckless in play. I make them go to the open grassland and the whole dream feels safe now. This clan is making it's way and I am delighted at the many options toward open sky. I stay until dawn. It is a good sun.

Image: thoughtco.com

An Ancient Calm

Last night when she licked my face to startle me awake I was not so grateful. I put on my warmest clothes and went for a walk in the milky light, full moon so bright. The walk took us around the shed and down a walkway beside the marshy patch. It was when I stepped into the place of trees, I finally grew gratitude for this puppy who woke me. 

Back inside I slipped under that cozy blanket into a wakeful sleep. The hypnagogic is filled with animals again and I was peaceful enough to hold that flow without becoming overwhelmed. I entered this state of being from the state of being brought to me on my moonwalk. I continued the practice of calming beyond alerting to every animal rushing by. My curiosity entered me and grabbed attention toward a most unusual deer. She lay there so calm in the rush of animals.

Before the experiences of the deeper dreaming, my being in the liminal prepared my senses into a focus for the next field of being. It is not unlike putting on a warm coat for a wintery moonwalk about the farm. Breathing into that warm pause I notice her antlers reforming. I hold my attention to the “Fearn” letters. Now there instead of antlers is a message. All my senses, like a warm blanket gathered to listen, “I will take you to the alder tree. The doorway opens with the sound of my hooves. Ride with me now. Ride.”  It was a smooth ride, the sensation shift was not unlike going from the outside into my home space. I dropped my thicker coat of consciousness. Then dropping bare feet onto the warm moss, I pause into that sensation. To be awake in my dream body not as solid as the physical, seems to afford me a deeper sensual connection. The brook here filters only the freshest of babbling sounds, touching the ancient stones. My hiraeth is at ease. This is a much-needed respite from the loud tumult of modernity’s fears. This, I carry back into my day. The moon gently bows to the sun lit time. This an ancient calm that does not shout, nor worry, I carry back with in me. I carry it back to the sun time of my physical body. It is a warm, steady sensation, fluid upon the ancient stones, song steady and I part ways from the chaos of modernity’s fears.

Image by Semka

Traveling the Stars

I sat with the old man. I the dreamer and me the dreaming one, loves him.  When I first met him in my travels, my stubborn mind got that aha of ease that is abounding radiance. As it is among the stars, place is without travel, it is one experience into another. I first experienced him in the bush country. I like it there on nights where the clear fresh twinkle of stars touches my senses as I breath air on this playground called Earth. My mind, less stubborn now, whispers of unbounded radiance, "It’s not  like we all weren’t part of it all along". It’s so easy to love unbounded when another steps in to share.  When one or more from my species twinkles back the eye of their star, wow! There is this aliveness here, on the playground always speaking, sharing, yearning it’s love outward.  He reminds me into my wholeness to lead with my heart. Sitting with him I experience an infectious luminosity that grows easiest in all living beings, in the sharing of presence. He speaks all different ways and I laugh at the accents and words he wears. 

I say this,

Words from the clinging of that hierarchy of value placed on living beings feels like vomit to me. I see it sometimes as a chain around the heart and step back to avoid the vomit that comes from the chain.

He says this,

“It ain’t no good this better then you

It ain’t worth a spit in the bucket

So I’m choosen

Love

And Again Love and again…

It ain’t easy, but it sure is livin

This choosin

I choose my battle

Spit out when I have to

It ain’t a thing I am wantin to be

More or less or... then who I am

You best watch what happens when you are steppin back

Don’t be clingin to the chain of thought”

He draws closer to me and we don’t move an inch.

“When you step back, stay deep inside until that chain holds no power

You have no time for drama in your daily affirmations

Your mind can close doors as easily as it opens them

You share this playground with All that is Now

Play nice”