Inner Journeys May Gang Aft Agley

 

I wrote the first part of this over a year ago,and will update it at the end.

My question for this inner journey exploration was “Why am I finding it so difficult to lose weight?”

The Topsie Turvets suggest…

Things need to be looked at from a different angle. Back out of your emotional entanglements, take a deep breath, and look anew. Much of the apparent confusion about your current situation is caused by a faulty point of view.

Get the honest opinions of sensible others, and then re-look at your own. Defensiveness and denial may be causing much difficulty.

Try imagining that you are looking at the situation from the viewpoint of each of the others involved. This is not an exercises in seeing how others “ought” to see things, but in simply understanding what they feel. Words like “he ought to see that…” are not useful at this time.

And don’t be angry with yourself if it turns out you were missing something and need to change your point of view. It shows you are learning and growing and to be congratulated!

Faery blessings on your little toes, for they will carry you into wonderful things!

I’m thinking that perhaps in this case “others” may refer to different aspects of myself — it might be useful to think of them as body, mind, spirit — or perhaps as the chakra system with each chakra an individual entity, linked though it to all the others. I don’t know — it might be something else.

I also am not certain who I need to ask to speak to. I think I’ll draw another card and see if it suggests someone.

The Faery Who Was Kissed by the Pixies, Morna, says, “The answer to your question is, put simply, love — love given with wisdom and compassion, love without selfishness or possessiveness.”

Morna tells us that giving and receiving love and intimacy in a wide variety of relationships is important at this time. She gives you notice that this is a time to open and heal your heart.

Different aspects of life may well be flowing happily together, healing separations and hurts from the past. Bonding may take place and deep feelings emerge. Changes for the better may occur in all aspects of life, but especially in relationships which are deepening and becoming richer.

You are experiencing love therapy for your heart.

Faery blessings on the loving!

So perhaps it is about Morna. Perhaps it is about loving — loving myself? The best I can say about where I am with that is that I’ve overcome my antagonism with my body, and my body and “I” are currently on moderately friendly but distant terms. I try to take care of myself — but things like nurturing and sleep seem to come after everything else. Right now I’m doing a typical thing. I’m quite tired, having trouble staying awake, but at the same time, here I am trying to do an inner journey because it’s important to know why I don’t take better care of myself! Is this ridiculous or what?

I shall close the computer right now and sleep. And if I awaken during the night, I shall go back to sleep until morning. Then I shall think about this!

But I didn’t do that. Instead I went ahead on to the inner journey:

There is a small garden. I know that Spring lives there. She is waiting for me to come out of winter into her garden. Her other name is Aurealia. There is a prickly hedge around the garden — hawthorn or blackthorn. It has buds, but is not yet blooming. A cold wind blows across the back of my neck. I walk around the garden looking for a way in. No gate. Is it a magic word I need?

I say, “Please, may I come in?”

The hedge pulls apart in front of me, and I walk through. It rustles impatiently. “Thank you,” I say. It closes gently. My grandmother’s “magic words.” The fae love them too.

There is a winding path, edged by tall banks of flowers — hollyhocks, delphiniums, sunflowers, other tall ones I can’t think of the names of. Or don’t know them. I follow the path and from the turns begin to feel that I’m in a maze — not a maze, you can get lost in them. There are no choices to make here — this is a labyrinth instead. One path to the center. It’s a long way, a lot of walking. I’d like to sit and rest, but there is no place to sit down. I look behind me and the path has disappeared, the flowers drawing together. There is only one way to go.

I’m still walking. And thirsty. I don’t see how it can be so far — O, silly me. Of course it can be as far as it wants. Wait. A hollyhock whispers, “It is as far as you make it.” I stop again. My fingers are sticky. I touch one with my tongue to see why — it tastes like honey. Odd. I haven’t touched anything. “No,” a sunflower says, “but that doesn’t mean you haven’t been touched.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I lick the honey off my fingertips. It makes me more thirsty. I should quite like a glass of apple cider vinegar and water. Lots of water. Or cool tea with lemon. I just discovered I am wearing two pairs of glasses hanging on strings around my neck. Did I think that would help me find my way? My way is very plain. I remember that usually I ask an animal to come and guide me to whoever I’m going to meet, which may be Morna, the Faery Who Was Kissed by the Pixies. Or it might be Spring. Or they may be the same person.

I wonder if I need a guide on this one-way path? As I hesitate, an ostrich steps out of the bushes beside me. “Bother!” he says. “Bless my tail feathers — don’t touch them! Naturally you need a guide. That’s how you know where to go.”

I point out the one-way nature of the path. “Right!” says the ostrich. “Naturally it is one-way — all paths are! So how will you know when to get off the path without a guide? You’ve already gone too far.”

I stop. “Too far? Then why are we still walking? I’m tired and thirsty. Shouldn’t we go back?” I hurry to catch up with him; he’s going quite fast.

“Don’t be silly — it’s one-way. I thought we’d established that — and that all paths are one way. You can never really go back the same path — it is always changing.”

A philosophical ostrich yet!

He stops abruptly and I run into his tail feathers. “Eeeek!” he shrieks and jumps ahead. I didn’t know ostriches could jump that far. I apologize profusely. He grumbles and mutters to himself. “You tell them and tell them, but do they listen? NO! Now my tail feathers are probably crumpled. Botheration!”

“NOW!” he squawks, jumping sideways into the delphiniums.

Theflowers quickly part, obviously annoyed. “No, no,” the ostrich says. “Not my fault. She forgot to call me and missed the proper path, and now we must take a short-cut through here or we’ll wind up on the other side of the moon!”

The delphiniums hiss at me. I didn’t know flowers could do that, but why not? The ostrich and I take a few more steps and we’re suddenly in a small clearing — just big enough for a bench and a chair and a tall lady standing beside the chair, her lovely pale green skirts flaring out around her. I feel quite scruffy in my jeans and with sticky fingers. I hope she doesn’t offer to shake hands.

She has one hand up in front of her face. She is snickering and trying not to let me know it. I would like very much to sit down. I am quite tired and hot and puffed. But I stand there saying nothing, waiting for her to speak.

“Sit,” she commands, between giggles. “Sit. There is a glass of apple cider vinegar and honey and water behind the bench for you. Drink!”

Obediently, I sit and drink. Then I thank the ostrich for being such a good guide. He goes out the other side of the clearing, still muttering to himself.

“It seems like I have not made a very good start here,” I say with my head down and my hair hanging in front of my face.

“That’s all right,” she says. “You’ve made it to the end anyway.” She bops me on the head with a wand I hadn’t noticed before. I immediately go to sleep. I wonder if I’ll dream…

**************

I woke up in my bed at home in the morning. I’d hoped I’d dream, but if I did I could not remember it. At the moment I have no idea what that was all about. Perhaps it will come to me later?

More than a year later, in the wee hours again!

I just read this again, and at last, I get it. That took a while. I have discovered just this moment that when I relax about diet and don’t do anything extreme or be critical, my weight goes slowly down. Also, it makes a difference to get as much sleep as I need, which is more than I think I want or should have.

Both of these things are a surprise — counter intuitive. The reason she bopped me over the head and put me to sleep a year ago was that she was trying to show me something, but I was too tired (and dim) to get it until now.

The reason I finally got it is that I weighed myself this morning and found five pounds gone since I checked a few days ago. And what have I been doing? Sleeping a lot. And eating things my body wants. Not stressing. Hmmmm. I wonder if I’ve finally got it? We’ll see. I’ve been feeling sleepy for a long while, but not letting myself sleep, even though the cats clearly think I’m silly. I guess I’ll go and try it. I’m grateful. Happy Thanksgiving!

Good night, dear hearts!

Waking Up, Coughing

I’ve got the Awfuls. It isn’t a cold, it’s a sore throat and maybe bronchitis. The lady at the clinic said it’s viral so antibiotics won’t help. She’s sure it isn’t pneumonia, which is a very good thing. She prescribed sugar-free popsicles and ice cream. They do help temporarily, and so do ice packs on my chest. But I wake up in the night coughing instead of breathing.

So at 3 AM, well after the eclipse, when I wakened trying to turn my lungs inside out, my first thought was what am I doing wrong to catch this? What did I do wrong to make myself so vulnerable? The question immediately billowed out much larger — Where did I go wrong in my life that bought me to this moment? Eclipses seem present questions like that.

From deep in my still half-dreaming mind, the answer immediately came: nothing! This was so shocking that I froze halfway out of bed and nearly fell over.

Nothing? I thought. How could the answer to such a huge question be — nothing at all? I’d thought I’d need a lot of soul searching and would wind up with a long list of answers — mistakes, misbehaviors, wrong decisions, weaknesses, maybe even wickedness. But how could it possibly be nothing? Nothing at all?

I got back into my bed and tried to think about it, but kept slamming into the same brick wall — nothing. Nothing at all. Period.

Finally my mind stopped spinning in the same tight circle enough to let another thought in. It kinda tiptoed as if afraid to startle me again. “What’s the matter with what and where you are?”

“I’m sick and I feel horrible.”

“So? It happens to everyone.”

“But, if we did everything right — right thoughts, right action, right contemplation, and all the rest — surely our bodies wouldn’t do things like this.”

“Yes, they would. You’re not immortal, you know.”

“Of course I know that!”

“Let’s suppose you’re here to learn things. What teaches you the most — the things that go ‘right’ or the things that go ‘wrong’?”

I don’t much like the obvious answer to that. But I also realize that regarding myself as a failure when something goes wrong may just be getting in my way of learning what O Universe is trying to teach me. And, no, I’m not anywhere near ultimately understanding that. But I’m again reminded that all of the ‘negative’ things we know we don’t want to do to others, are not helpful when we do them to ourselves. Peace and love travel in circles — it’s better not to stop them anywhere.

“O, and by the way, you could be taking a bit better care of yourself. It probably wouldn’t have stopped you from getting this — it’s quite a nasty virus. Think about what you’d do differently for someone else and try doing for yourself. “

Eclipses, Changes, & Cairns

Not complaining really, but I certainly could use a break from eclipses and other potent astrological phenomena. In the midst of the early May lunar eclipse, I decided that I had to completely revamp the on-line class I’m teaching. I’ve been working hard at that ever since. During last week’s solar eclipse, I decided that I finally knew what I really needed to do with a some of my sites that have just been spinning their wheels for a long while without any actual traction. It all started with a when I re-posted on Facebook a link to a blog by my good friend, Nancy Hendrickson, and made the comment that I was having to rethink what I’m doing because of a question she raised there. The question was “What breaks your heart?” and it was part of a series designed to help people find their passion, their personal true north.

Some months ago, I answered that question with “What we are doing to our Earthmother, and what we are doing to our children and their future!” And that is still my heart’s clear clarion call. But my question to myself today was, “So how have I refocused my energies to actually answer that summons?”

Um…

I got complicated about it. Did you see my last blog about complicating things? Well, I’d done it again! I must stay within the parameters of my physical ability to create change. I can use my resources, which are mostly very intangible — my skill in writing, in healing, in teaching — but I can only use them in ways within my physical capacity.

So I’d gone through this convoluted process of concluding that what I could do is to write/teach the things I know on-line… to adults. And yes, I’ve started that process and will keep right on doing this. And the effects will, I hope, ripple out into the world as a force for creating a better world for all of Earthmama’s children. But I wanted something a lot more direct.

As I was thinking about all this, Nancy phoned me. She’d seen my comments and wondered what I was thinking. We were both wondering what we were thinking. We have a nice synergy, Nancy and I. We’ve worked together for so many years that even though we rarely see each other, we talk often about the things that matter most to us. We both have a deep and abiding concern about the global situation ecologically and politically and how that will play out into the future. Unsurprisingly, we concluded that we both have to do whatever we can to try to nudge things into a healthier direction. But what can we do?

I’ll let Nancy tell her own story about this, but I want to share mine with you — just in case it helps you get some traction on your own true north.

There are three things I want to do. First, I want to write more books. People keep telling me that I “ought” to put on paper all the stuff I know about healing and all those things. They say that people need to know. Maybe so. The online Jesa’s Woo Woo Classes are a step in that direction because they get me to actually write these things. But I also want to write some books for children themselves (the kind that adults enjoy reading as well). While I’ve made some efforts in that direction, this needs to move way up on my priority list. I want the books to show how to heal and to enhance ourselves and the world, but they must do so without being “teachy” or “preachy”. I would like them to be simple and wise, to help the spirit and mind to flower on all levels of development, and to be fun! This, it seems, is not easy to write!

Second, I have a website called FaeryWisdom.com and a Facebook community, Faery Wisdom & Fae Dreams. Both of these sites have been languishing while I dealt with other things. They are now knee-deep in dust, but at least it’s faery dust and still has a certain sparkle. (The fae do not think of time as we do. It was at their suggestion that the Facebook page was put up over a year ago, but only now am I starting to understand why they pushed for it in the first place. But, talking to Nancy, I suddenly realized that these were a good base for connecting with the Wise Child Within, the nature spirits, and all of Earthmama’s children. They are potentially a place for us to help each other discover and improve creative ways to move forward in healing the lives of our children — and ourselves. It has to be done in a spirit of joy and kindness, and it has to reach out and be inclusive of all Earthmother’s children. How to do that? I don’t know… I have some ideas, but I’ll need a lot of help to make this fly. If you’re interested, you’d be most welcome on the Facebook site where we can share and discuss ideas.

The subtitle of the Faery Wisdom & Fae Dreams group says: “Faery and the Wise Child Within — for spiritual growth, for healing of the world’s children, for deepening our connection with Mother Nature and our faery kindred.” Description: “For the Wise Child Within — Faery stories (ancient and new), how they see us, some magical knackerty knotions we all can apply, faery nonsense, reading the oracle, faery dreams & visions, original faery art posted only by the creators, experiences with the fae, and more. How can we interact with faery in ways that are healing and inspiring for us, for the Wise Child Within, for the children we connect with, for all of Earthmama’s children? What can we offer to and receive from the fae?

To quote a phrase from an O. Henry story, we need to be “childlike and wise” — and “childlike” and “childish” have almost nothing in common.

And the third thing…

The blessing cairn — when I first moved to where I live now, the process of shaping the land to allow access to humans left me with a big pile of dirt with a nice view of Polaris, the North Star. Faery inspiration struck — you can read about this more fully on BlessingCairn.com. The inspiration was to gradually cover the dirt with layers of stone, to turn it into a cairn, and for each stone placed there, a blessing was to be requested and sent to a particular person or situation. So what I did was to put up the web pages about the cairn and invite people to send requests so I could add them to the cairn. Then, one day when I was sitting on the cairn, something happened.

I’d just placed a few more requested stones on it, and I was focused on the healing and blessings being sent when suddenly I felt this strong sense of connection. At first, I thought it was links to the people that these stones were for, but as the energy came flooding in and flowing through, I realized that it was something much more than that. Yes, it connected to them, but surprisingly, this small, barely born cairn also married with other sacred places of the earth — some very ancient, some quite new. They were all linked in a web of light. And this bright web was anchored in stone, in earth, in many places in this wide world, in the body of Earthmother.

It was an overwhelming experience to feel that network directly. It was also quite surprising to realize that it takes so little to create a sacred space — a few stones and a clear meditative intention, symbolically anchored in the earth. I could see the healing light coming in from other, older and stronger places. But, surprisingly, I could see the light going out from this one to strengthen the rest as well. And with every additional stone and intention, with every meditation, the entire web became stronger.

I would not have thought that anything one person could do would make a real difference, but what I could see and feel here was that it does. It was startling to realize that it wasn’t just me doing my little solitary thing in the woods all by myself, but that it was innumerable people tossing a penny in the “lucky” well, placing a stone on a cairn, saying a prayer for healing and blessing in a church or temple, and that we were all joined together by a scintillating web of light created by the intention of blessing. I didn’t have to do anything to create or join these links. The web of light is alive; it expands to wherever it can put down roots. It can be blessed and made stronger by each of us, and none of us are alone in this. It is, it has to be a community effort — a communion, a sacred act.

And then I had to move away from the land.

So, I did the only thing I could do. I didn’t think it would work, but I put a flowerpot with some earth in it on the porch of the apartment in town that I moved to, and I kept on putting blessings in stones, small ones now, and putting them in the pot. I didn’t expect this to become a part of the world wide web. I planned to carry the stones over to the land and sneakily place them on the cairn. But… the flowerpot linked itself into the web. I could feel it when it connected. Later on, through a series of miracles and kindness, I was able to move back to this land and put the stones in my flowerpot onto the cairn. The cairn had become overgrown — small trees were shooting up rapidly. But the light was still there. Now it is being reclaimed, mostly by the efforts of my neighbor, Tom, who has a Taurean passion for healing the earth.

Which brings me to the new addition to the web, the Blessing Cairn page on Facebook. You know, I puzzled about this. My friend, Nancy, thought it was a good idea. Another friend, Alison, also joined in. It felt like it should start with the three of us. And to my astonishment, I could already feel the light from it. How could this be? How did it anchor into the network of light? Silly question, of course. The WorldWideWeb is a network of energy! Everyone knows that. And it connects into the physical world through computers, large and small, which are touched by hands all around the world. And all kinds of energy flow through it — healing and hurting, pain and sorrow and empathy and joy, anger and love, and even wisdom. It’s all there. Can we make the WWW a brighter place? Can we consciously bring healing to the world through this? I know we can. People are already doing exactly that, often without realizing that they are doing it. Every kind and healing intention blesses and strengthens the web, just as the hurtful, cruel, and dark things dim it. Just as we can with the stones of the earth, so can we do with the silicon chips of our computers and the energy that flows through them. We can add to the light. And the WWW needs all the healing light it can get. We can, if we persist at it, tip the balance toward healing and love.

So, this is about creating and/or strengthening a sacred place in the world to ask for and give blessings and to help with the spiritual healing of Gaia and her children. I’ve already seen how many of you are already doing something like this — gifts of healing, kindness, and compassion going into the world. We invite you to join us. We hope to see more blessing cairns and their many equivalents spread throughout the world in a web of light anchored in stone. We want to consciously focus here on the creation and maintenance of sacred spaces – in our homes, on our land, and in the world, urban and wild, and in the network that is the WWW. We want to see your photos and art work of the sacred spaces you are connected with or are building.

On the WWW we are located at the Blessing Cairn and we welcome you to join us. We’ll be discussing earth energies, healing, the building of cairns, and related things. We’ll be strengthening those sacred sites by interacting with their subtle healing energies, and we’ll be considering how we can best keep them clear and bright, radiating healing and joy out to an uncertain world. But, perhaps most of all, this will be a place for people to request and to give blessings, to pour healing love and light into the world.

So. I have more projects in an already project-overflowing life. But at least these are all the right projects. They make my heart sing. I welcome you to participate when and as you wish.

The photograph is relevant. It’s my granddaughter hugging the Motherstone in the Goddess Garden that was then across from the Blessing Cairn.

© Copyright 2005 Jessica Macbeth. All rights reserved to both photograph and text.

Pouring Forth Sacredness into the World

Someone asked me what I mean when I talk about living in sacredness or the sacredness of life or opening ourselves to sacredness—or best of all, to pour forth sacredness into our lives and this was my response:

One way to think of sacredness is our awareness of that still hypothetical nonlocal consciousness—which I’m working on writing about for a web page. Nonlocal consciousness is also called subtle energy and has many names in different cultures and religions: chi, ki, prana, the holy ghost, and many others are all versions or derivatives of this concept. We each have our own individual way of recognizing or perceiving or denying it. What comes to my mind when I let myself relax into that perception are feelings of openness, of endlessness, of … well… love.

I don’t know if you meditate, but that is something that greatly facilitates being open to that energy because we need a calm mind, open and relaxed rather then tense and self-protective.

As far as pouring sacredness forth, I know this is going to sound simplistic, but the truth is that it is simple. One way to do this is to visualize a source of that energy in some way, It can be god/dess or the glory of the stars in some of the photographs we see or any other image that suits your view of the universe. Alternatively, if visualization doesn’t work for you, remembering and connecting with the feeling of receiving love works even better.

Some people find that, in the beginning, music that evokes that kind of connected feeling can sometimes be helpful—just letting the feeling of the music flow through you, relaxing into it. The feeling of being blessed by anything is part of the same thing as well. Once you connect with the feeling, think of that feeling/energy flowing through you to your heart, and then flowing to your voice, your hands, whatever part of you is acting upon the world.

You could be talking to a friend, cooking a meal, carving a sculpture, singing, cleaning house, doing your work, making love, opening a door and holding it for the person ahead of or behind you. Most people find it easiest in the beginning to practice this when they are sitting quietly alone and can just focus on the feeling of the energy flowing through. Then they can begin extending that into their daily lives. With enough practice, it becomes like breathing—a part of life.

And that’s really all there is to it. Practice improves the perception of the energy, the sense of it flowing through you, and the strength with which it affects the world around you.

Thank you for asking—it’s a question I like trying to answer. If anyone has further questions about this, I’d be pleased to try to discuss them. It’s good for me to think about this, even though I don’t have any definitive answers—just experiences and knackerty knotions and occasionally some creative ideas.

Heart's Home

I’m in the midst of writing a (difficult for me) teaching on grief, and while taking a break, I found this wonderful and relevant essay by James Paris, Sehnsucht, in which he talks about the concept of a deep longing for a lost home or person—possibly even somewhere or someone or something that may not exist or may never have existed. Yet, the sense of longing is deep and abiding.

As I read this I thought first about how this is a form of grief, and also how we can never be happy if we cling so tightly to what is not there that we cannot enjoy what we do have. And I thought about how we reconcile this split or fail to do so, and how much our happiness depends on succeeding in finding a balance in life that works for us.

I know exactly where my “home” is! It is in the magical, misty, and mystical West of Scotland, inhabited by the fae and the Ancient Ones, spirits two-legged and four, winged and finned. It is as far from the modern Scottish Highlands and Islands, filled with tourists, bright sun sparkling on the water, or mountains soaring from the sea, beautiful though that is, as it can be. Another world, you might say.

My Scotland is only found in the almost silent moonlight, the dark and moonless night with the deep roar of a waterfall, the birdsong of the breaking dawn, the mists of the twilight. It can be heard in the sound of distant bagpipes, the lifting tenor melody on the hill, and in the wistful song of the cuckoo. I do love to be in the ordinary (as if it could ever be truly “ordinary”) daytime West of Scotland—and there are always the unpredictable moments and glimpses of that Other, flickers in the corner of the heart’s eyes, and the faint touches of unseen fingers.

I miss it, I long for it with a deep heartache at times. The longing is never far from me. Yet… I’m happy where and as I am. I can’t be in Scotland—the climate was killing me, quite literally. But I found another place with water and mountains, forests and islands, the myriad shades of green, the bright blues and soft grays and the singing notes of the wildflowers. This place I live has a very different magic of its own. It is not, and never will be my Scotland. But I can live here, and I can be happy with the little daily miracles of life in this place. And in my dreams and in the twilight, I can open the portals just a crack and invite my own world into this one.

Someday, I’ll step happily across that boundary and not return, but for now, this world is also a much beloved joy.

Healing by Dreams

Wild wolves were all around me this morning when I woke up and… but let me tell you first about the blog I read yesterday. Robert Moss wrote a blog on healing dreams, stories, and visions, which I read and thought was an excellent exercise. In fact, it seemed so good that I decided to try to remember to do it each night and see how it worked for me. But I forgot about it at bedtime.

This morning when I awakened, I was still half caught in a dream. In it, my granddaughter, Megan, was about three and she was my daughter rather than my granddaughter. She, my husband, and I were on a car camping holiday somewhere. We had parked far out in the bushes along a trail, near a small lake. We set up a tent there, but decided to walk back into town together for some supper. While we were eating my husband wandered off and disappeared. Megan and I finished eating, and I decided that it was getting too late in the day to linger, so we started back to the car and camping place.

As we walked (I carried her a lot of the time), it seemed much farther than it had while going into town. I was beginning to worry that we’d passed the car without seeing it. Megan was nearly asleep in my arms, and finally it became totally dark—that deep darkness you only get in the country on a moonless night far from any town. I decided we’d better stop and sleep where we were. I was a bit concerned about having no shelter and being in unknown territory, but there didn’t seem anything else to we could do. Fortunately, Megan was wrapped in a blanket that, when unfolded, was big enough to wrap around us both. We found a clear spot just off the trail purely by touch and settled down, snuggled together and well-wrapped up.

Then I felt a cold, wet nose touching the back of my neck. I could hear breathing and panting and rustling sounds.

Megan murmured sleepily, “Gran’ma, who’s here?”

I didn’t know! Yes, I was worried—who wouldn’t be? Yet I certainly didn’t want to alarm her, so I said, “It’s just some animals. They’ve come to protect us while we sleep.” I could hear the grass and bushes moving as several large beings moved around, but since they made no move toward us after the initial touch and inspection by sniffing, I snuggled Megan closer, tucked us in better, and I listened to her fall asleep, which she did quite easily and trustingly. I was so tired that, as soon as I was sure she was deeply asleep, I drifted off too and slept soundly.

When I wakened at first light in the morning, I found us encircled closely by a pack of wolves. All but one of them were sleeping right up against us, keeping us warm. Megan had one arm out from under the covers and was quietly petting the one that was awake. It was the largest wolf. His muzzle was gray with age, and he was looking straight into my heart with his penetrating golden eyes. He let his tongue loll out in a wolfy grin, and I told him, “Good morning, sir. We thank your for your protection and warmth.” I felt like I should curtsy to him, but it’s difficult while lying down, wrapped in a blanket. The pack silently got up and moved back to give us room to disentangle ourselves and stand up. Then they, still quiet, drifted away into the bushes like shadows. Megan waved good-bye to them and grinned up at me.

And I woke up, feeling incredibly protected and secure—more so than I’ve felt in years. It is not that I’ve felt nervous or in danger all this time, but this was like the difference between just not being angry and being completely happy—an enormous gap. This was a radically different feeling of peaceful security, and it was very healing for me.

I think I better understand now what Dr. Moss was talking about in his blog. And yes, I do plan to practice it. If there is no healing dream that volunteers itself, I can always tell myself a healing story and just see what comes up from my creative mind. How we envision our world has a profound affect on how we feel, and the more deeply that vision is embedded in us, the more strongly it influences us. The dream was quite detailed and had a smoothly logical sequence, more like a conscious story than an unconscious dream, but I’ve noticed that my unconscious mind is quite capable of following instructions—when it wants to.

© 2013 by Jessica Macbeth. All rights reserved.

Thoughts At Two In The Morning

I just had a burst of insight. I was reading Neil Gaiman’s short story “Forbidden Brides of the Faceless Slaves in the Secret House of the Night of Dread Desire”. (Yes, he is being funny; read his book, Fragile Things.) In it, his character was saying:

“It’s literature,” he explained, as if to a child. “Real literature. Real life. The real world. It’s the artist’s job to show people the world they live in. We hold up mirrors.”

And I suddenly understood something. “Real life”, aka consensus reality, is what we think it is. And we arrive at our thoughts from our experiences and input. We watch TV (well, I don’t, but lots of people do) and believe it portrays reality. But not even “the news” does that these days. We imitate (especially when we are young or not really thinking) what we see there, and we imitate the attitudes we’ve derived from other people, especially people we admire. Well, I don’t like the “reality” I see there of war and fear and paranoia and a greed that thinks one can never have enough. I don’t like it at all. I think we, as a society, have lost our path. Not everyone is lost, of course, but far too many are. And I certainly am not interested in writing about that version of reality.

I want to write about the reality we could live in if we just shifted our attitudes and acted as if we truly cared about the well-being of ourselves and each other and our world — the reality of what we could become if…

That’s all. It may not sound like much, but it’s important to me. I just wanted to write it down where I can find it when I wake up later and face the day. It’s 2:30 AM right now, and thoughts here sometimes get lost before morning. This is one I want to keep.

I recently read “The Space Between the Stories” by Charles Eisenstein with great appreciation and have now subscribed to the author’s blog. In it he talks about what we as a society of people tell ourselves about our culture — and how that story affects what we become. We are all, each in our own way, working on that story as we choose what to think and how to live. You might say it is written by the collective unconscious of all of us. He also talks about how the story we’ve been living by is coming unraveled as we face economic, cultural, and ecological crises. A lot of what he says so brilliantly makes great sense to me. I think our Story of the People is in serious need of revision — a new vision for a new way of functioning together. It’s important — and it’s unavoidable. There are several “stories of the people” trying to arise right now. I hope that all of us are paying attention and giving real support to the ones that seem best to us — healthiest for Earthmama and all of her children. A new story is coming into being amid the chaos of the old, disintegrating one. We are creating it.

What I’m most interested in at the moment is how we can re-write the current rather grim perception of our future into some of the wonderful possibilities available. There is so much we could do and be; so many choices face us. I want my own writing, both of stories and of spiritual “how-to” ideas to help to create that. I hope you’ll find some of those stories and thoughts here in my gropings toward a better path. I hope that, together, we can find a story that is more loving and more generous to live by.

© Copyright 2013 by Jessica Macbeth. All rights reserved.