Departure Time: Delayed

I find myself in an airport. I am lucid from the start, as has happened in this airport before. It's as if the security gates are the gates into automatic awareness.

It's a busy evening for travelers. The airport is filled with people bustling around. Some rushing and hectic, some wandering and stranded. I don't know any of these people. Most of them keep rushing past me without paying attention to my presence. But some notice me. And they keep trying to talk to me. It seems some of them are yelling. I bump into a South American man in his early 30s as I walk through the crowds. He is speaking angrily in Spanish as he looks back at me. I turn and say "Lo siento," as I shrug my shoulders. He laughs and smiles and continues on his way. I turn back and find there are more and more people trying to talk to me. The noise builds and reaches the level of an orchestral cacophony and I can no longer distinguish words. I become overwhelmed.

I go to sit on the floor next to some chairs against a wall. (More like I hide there.) I look to my left. I am sitting next to a girl. She is young, maybe 12 years old. She has the softest blond hair and the biggest bluest eyes I've ever seen. Her beauty is striking to me, and as I stare at her, realization begins to sink in. She stares back at me, curious but blank.

I ask her, "Are you dead?" She responds with a timid, uninterested "yes."

I am beginning to assess my bearings now but need clarification. "Are you human?" I ask her, mentally debating on the use of "are" or "were" with a ghost.

She again replies with a yes, but this time, her eyes have locked on my own and she seems to be waiting for me to do or say something. She silently expects something from me.

This is when I come to understand the nature of the airport and my role here. I know I am here in the spirit of service. All these people are just spirits trying to get home, and some of them are having trouble doing it on their own. However, I don't know how exactly to help. I tried summoning a friend of mine who could help, as I do in many of my lucid dreams, but no one came. I get caught up in the confusion and my focus shifts from the people in the airport to me. As this happens, everyone just disappears. I am now in a dark, abandoned airport. I was essentially kicked out of that level of dreaming!

Now I know I need to put in some thought and preparation for my next try at the spirit airport, and hopefully I can get something done.

[I am]

[I am] merely a breath.

I inhale as human,
and exhale as God.

The talons of choice and pleasure,
the flying dragons to ride.
Pain and suffering
and the dawn where the sleeping die.

Protect me, Father.
Nurture me, Mother.
For I am rough and unable to soften at your feet.

I breathe in the girl
and breathe out the archetype.
Maiden, crone, I will be them all,
As I prepare for rebirth each night.

I breathe in each wound,
and breathe out each as healed.
The cub in the mighty lion's mouth,
I am vulnerability, revealed.

Protect me, Father.
Nurture me, Mother.
For I am scraped raw at your feet to wash.

There is no separation of will
no stale egoic agenda or petrified soapbox.
My chalice empties breath by breath
my societal-induced psychosis unlocks.

I inhale as human,
and exhale as God.

[I am] merely a breath.

Tea-Partying Through Tornadoes

It's really quite amazing how fear controls so many aspects of ourselves, our lives, our creations, our thoughts and our actions. How many things do we NOT do because of fear? How many unnecessary or unhealthy things do we do to avoid feeling that fear?

Fear seems to be one of the key issues I've been working with the past year. I have a lot of baggage, of course, and I have a lot of issues, like we all have issues. But the strides I have made in this department have been transformative, enlightening, life-altering and even kind of shocking.

The tricky thing about fear, though, is that we have built up these complexes about our fears, to the point where we don't even know what the original sin was/is. We execute all of our fear-based actions automatically, without being aware of the root. To address this problem, we can turn to our dreams.

Our dreams process our emotions and fears in a very symbolic, very real way. You may have nightmares about something you wouldn't ordinarily feel afraid of in waking life, and because it seems strange or random to you, you ignore it. Same with reoccurring dreams. You may wonder why you always have the same, seemingly meaningless dream. It's time to bring more awareness here.

If you can face your dream symbols, even without knowing what they represent, it affects your waking life. Our dreams and our waking life are connected to the point where if you alter one, the other is altered with it. Even if you can't name the problem, the solution is still that- the solution.

For example, for a few years I've had reoccurring dreams of tornadoes. The tornadoes are always coming straight for me, and I do everything I can to get away, whether I'm running, driving, swimming, whatever. See, I'm the kind of person who stands out on her dock with her camera during tornado warnings hoping to see one and get close to one, so this is not a waking fear I have. But in the dreams, I am terrified beyond belief. Last week, I found myself in the midst of another tornado dream. I saw it coming, and ran into a nearby diner to find shelter. But then the entire building began to move across the parking lot. I did a protection ritual that I do in waking life to try and protect the people in the diner, but they all stared at me solemnly, knowing the tornado was after me alone. Finally, I submitted. I realized that I could die, and that this wasn't something I could control or predict. I gave it to God: I said, "Okay. If I am meant to die during this, that is okay. If I'm meant to live, that is okay too. I give you my submission." I held my arms out and closed my eyes. Everything got dark and quiet, and an incredible tingling warmth filled my body until I was completely relaxed and in joy. Then I woke up.

I knew the tornado represented some sort of fear, but I hadn't known what exactly it was until facing it in the Dreamtime. I fear what I cannot predict. I am able to feel out people and situations fairly well because of intuition and informative dreams, but the things I cannot predict at all terrify me. After submitting to the tornado, I feel better about facing the unknown in my waking life. I can't fully explain this psychological connection, but I know that it's there. It simply feels different, freer!

I think all of us are so conflicted and our fears are so complex and twisted that we could all use some dream therapy. Don't worry about interpreting your dreams if you don't understand the symbols. But be aware of them! When you have a nightmare, imagine yourself having that same nightmare, but this time, you face it or change it. Be sure to write down your dreams and give them appropriate consideration. If you can bring this awareness to your dreams while you are awake, you will in turn bring this waking awareness to your dreams. Lucid dreaming is of course an excellent tool for facing fears in dreams, but as long as you are aware, you don't need to be lucid.

In our dreams, we can be warriors, psychologists, mystics and healers all at once.

[Image from Cloud Cult's album: Feel Good Ghosts (Tea-Partying Through Tornadoes)]

Bee Medicine administered in Dreamtime.

The two weeks I spent in Hawaii were the most glorious of weeks. The Dreaming and Awakening Workshop has eternally altered my mindscape. Before I left, I was stressing out about my next step in life. I had plans to make and commitments to commit to, but I didn't actually *feel* what I was suppose to do. I intuitively decided that whatever happened in Hawaii was going to guide my decisions, and I had to wait until afterwards to move forward.


I began dreaming of the bee during the workshop. Nothing terribly vivid- simply the image of a bee flying in front of me. I didn't think much of it, but it continued to appear in my dreams. Someone I met there at the workshop, someone very dear to me, told me to "hit the ground running." It didn't really hit me until I got home. In the bathroom one evening, the biggest wasp I'd ever seen suddenly appeared on the mirror in front of me. I thought it was strange, was a little scared, but didn't want to kill it, so I just walked out and pretended I didn't see it. A few nights later, I woke up in the middle of the night for my scheduled sleep interruption. Suddenly I heard the buzzing. The huge wasp was now in my room. I watched it as it landed on one of the ceiling fan blades above my bed. It was like it was just watching me. I let it bee (hahahahaha) and went back to sleep. (right into a lucid dream, by the way.)


So finally, I understood the Bee/Wasp Medicine and the need to "hit the ground running." This is usually the time of year I slow down and get a little down myself. Instead, I am pushing myself into creative action. Even when I feel like crumbling and breaking down (and do on occasion), I dive into my endeavors of creativity and community and active motion. Moving into a home with Janelle in NE Minneapolis is like becoming a community. We are planning on transforming our basement space into a healing space to share with those in our own little community as well. I would like to teach a lucid dreaming course there. I am working on healing and music and art and writing and dreaming, and whatever other form of creative expression I can muster to push me through and keep me busy. All of these things are branches of necessary manifestation. I must keep going.

I have come to realize that my purpose is in my dreams. My dreams are my Work. I learned a lot about myself and my abilities in Hawaii, and I am cultivating the necessary skills to continue progressing towards that goal. I seem to be working more and more with animals and detached pieces of people I know or don't know in the Dreamtime.



I have a great deal of study and work ahead of me. It's very exciting.

Prophet

Prophecy is madness until it comes to pass
wherein madness becomes miracle.
How fine a tension
maintained by the clock's humble hands.
Slowly ticking towards the breaking of action,
the snapping of the linear wire across our first set of eyes.

There is the raving madwoman!
Borne of rock and lava
and will of earth and ocean.
But those maddened lips remain silent
until the properly executed eruption

that is the miracle
coming
to pass.

The prophets;
masters of delayed gratification.
How succulent is the fruit allowed to ripen
slowly.

Oh madwoman, made of flame and ember, grant me your patience.

eating ghosts

Everyone has a ghost. You are mine.

Ever.

These curves are the roots of the Great Tree, ever curling towards the center. These freckles are the soil of the earth, this hair the people of the snake, weaving that soil. These eyes hold the eternities of the singing sea-barren in their pools. These fingertips feed the fires across the skin, burning, releasing.

Ever your lover. Ever your mirror. Ever the earth.