Your visual system wants to feed you with joy and beauty. Are you allowing it in?
I’m walking through a school building, aware my class will be starting soon. As I search for the classroom, a few of my fellow students gather. No one seems as concerned with finding the classroom and getting there on time as I am. I see a posted schedule behind a glass panel, which says our class (called Dreamgates) is in room 211 and starts at 4:30. I’m slightly relieved, as it was originally supposed to start at 4PM and we would have been late. Yet I still need to find room 211. I note the room in front of me is 091, and walk down a few doors to see room 094. Maybe 211 is a couple of floors up.
A skinny nervous guy with dark hair says something to the group, then walks away. A blondish guy who has a bit of a temper makes a disparaging comment about Nervous Guy, and I stop him from going into a rant. I say he (Blond Guy) can come across as angry when he just shows up, that sometimes I can feel the ready-to-boil energy coming from him, like a pot simmering on the stove that’s about to spill over. I go on to say that I suspect Nervous Guy feels this too, and it makes him more nervous.
The others look at me in surprise — I’m saying what they all know but would not have said themselves. Blond Guy is insulted, not wanting to accept any blame for someone else’s reaction to him, and says he’s leaving, that he’ll see us all for the next lease. I assume this means the next semester’s classes. I sigh to myself as I see him walk away. Should it be my job to coddle people’s touchy personalities? I want to focus my attention on getting to class and learning something!
I wake up amused at this seeming blend of my dream classes and my energy medicine classes. I’ve dreamed about not being able to find my class many times in the past. I wonder just a bit about the room numbers — will something happen on September 1st (091) or September 4th or next year on February 11th?
The role of truth-teller is familiar, and of trying to point out other’s behavior in a way that they can see it too, so they can make changes. Yet notice in the dream I still didn’t get through to Blond Guy, who left the group.
Finally, I wonder if the “classroom” I’m so eager to find is right in front of me in the hall full of other human beings. I note that in a way I defended Nervous Guy, explaining his possible reaction,since I’m prone to nervousness myself and often feel misunderstood for that. Yet I did not attack Blond Guy, just told him what was happening. I am still learning how to communicate!
My latest newsletter, with an article on investigating the characters in your dreams more closely, and one on revisiting past newsletters. Enjoy!
Are you going so fast you’re missing seeing your life, and the delights around you?
I’m sitting in the road talking with a guy I knew over 30 years ago, about the challenges of finding enough time for both work and personal tasks. Suddenly a big yellow school bus is lumbering straight toward us. I get up and walk away briskly. The bus starts to turn left and runs over my companion, then stops.
Why did he just sit there? Is he dead? I wonder as I jog back in that direction. Is it possible he stayed between the wheels and didn’t get crushed? A bystander reaches under the bus and pulls him out, looking limp and flattened. The standing man shakes him vigorously, up and down like a towel flapping on the clothesline, probably trying to revive him.
I wake up a bit stunned — I’ve often dreamed of classrooms and being either a teacher or student, but this is the first time I’ve dreamed of a school bus! I remember hearing that the guy in my dream had taken a job driving a school bus a few years ago, which feels like the dream emphasizing to me school, that there is important learning here for me.
I was not particularly close to this guy, who seemed somewhat shallow to me and not that bright. In the dream when the bus hit him I did not have a strong emotional reaction, other than simple human concern. I wonder if there’s something here about staying aware — it was probably not a good idea to be having a discussion sitting in the middle of a busy street!
I’m also interested in the theme of our brief chat, not letting work take up your entire life, which is certainly an ongoing challenge for me. I do love my work, and I also don’t want to get obsessive about it, skimping on my sleep or other important self-care to get one more thing done. All work and no play is not good for me, or anyone else! This is a lesson I am constantly re-learning. It is also one I can teach my clients, and to do that, I’ll need to be a good example!
My latest newsletter, with an article on memory and vision, and one on discovering a dream ally. Enjoy!
I look out the window to see a downward sloping lush green lawn, with a small wheat–colored terrier walking up the rise toward me. His hair is mussed and tangled but not matted or dirty, hanging over his eyes. He has alert pointy ears sticking up from under the mop of hair. Somehow I’m now out on the lawn myself in front of him. I crouch down to get a closer look and connect with him better. He’s standing there quietly looking back at me, and I realize with surprise his left eye is missing, just a cross-stitch of black thread like a doll with a shoe-button eye which fell off.
I reach my arms toward him, one hand on each side of his head. I hold my hands still, and start crying looking at him — how awful not to have 2 eyes! He doesn’t seem sad, just accepting. My hands suddenly start moving back and forth on their own, slowly like paddles, or oars rowing a boat. A multicolored guinea pig, his short fur a pretty design of black and rusty brown and white splotches, comes up the hill behind the dog, curious to see what’s happening.
I wake up, recognizing the lawn as belonging to a house my mother bought after I grew up and moved out. I have never owned a dog and this dog is not familiar to me. The missing eye makes me think of vision challenges, and perhaps is a message to me that the dog is so content with his condition, which others might see as handicapped.
I just remembered a session with a healer several months ago, where she led us on a meditation to find a guide to help us with a personal challenge. I “saw” a shadowy woodsman in animal skins, whose dog came up and licked my hand. The healer said the dog was my guide, and my message was Unconditional Love. A dog is a perfect example of this trait, and unconditional love can heal anything.
The automatic movement of my hands reminds me of the healing my energy medicine teacher Deborah King does, when she says a Guide is working through her, that “My hands don’t usually move like this”. It also reminds me of a dream years ago in which a little girl brought her broken doll to me to fix, its jewel-like purple eye dangling out of the socket. She had utter faith I would know what to do.
So perhaps this is some kind of a healing dream, not necessarily that I am healing the dog, but that his calm attitude and love may be healing me! And I’ve learned from Deborah that whenever we do healing work for someone else, the universal healing energy comes through the healer on its way to the client, so both are healed in the exchange. We’re all connected.
Humans have vision because of the sun. Why not appreciate it instead of avoiding it?
Today’s newsletter, with an article on being aware of your peripheral vision. Enjoy!
A deceptively simple vision practice which is like meditation for the eyes.