A recurring aspect of former Musings was my references to dreams. I was part of a dream group led by Don for several years and participated in a Brugh Joy dream workshop many years ago. In a short dream the night before our first gathering, I dreamed that I threw salt down the driveway and watched as it turned to beads of milk that had rainbows in them. Brugh used the word “numinous.” Now, years later, as he predicted, it continues to work me. Its many reverberations and interpretations have led me to ephemeral insights and glints of meaning. I wonder at how a simple dream can be infused with so many layers of meaning.
My dreaming, my searching, and my journey continue. My husband and I have been involved in one of Kathleen Sullivan’s dream groups, which meets three times a month. I am realizing dreams are flashes of my soul, when simplified as metaphors, are then held in a web of my wonderment. They glisten like dewdrops embellishing the web of life with new vistas, renewed purpose, energy and even release. My body reacts with a shudder of knowing, my roots search out more unconscious terrain, my limbs reach for the fruits of wholeness. I am relaxing around shadowy resistances, fanning the sparks to ignite creative energy, coaxing unconscious eccentricities and fuzzy edges into sharper focus—building a foundation to settle the soul and free the spirit.
In a recent dream, I am assisting a ten-year old boy with an installation for a hologram. Tiny beads catch the light, to produce an abstract leopard print with a clear space in the middle. At the end, I look up to see an oceanic scene—a hologram of sea and sky with the sky as sea and the sea as sky —yet another creation of my psyche using beads.
These beads of being find their way to touch me deeply, and connect me to a light show of metaphoric images. I enter a deep sleep and dream myself to a holistically simpler and clearer place, relaxing into a fullness that is like a hologram.