Saturday, May 28, 2011

A tale of 2 Lilac Bushes

This lovely lilac clipping doesn't look like much, but it is just what I was longing for on Thursday as I was walking, in downtown Oakville, past someone's lush, overflowing, deliciously fragrant lilac bush. But, because the blossoms were on private property all I could do was bury my nose in the clumps of flowers overhanging the wrought iron fence and commit their scent to memory so that I might indulge in it throughout the day.

Later that night I took part in a Shamanic Journeying Circle in a co-op community centre located in a funky downtown Toronto neighbourhood. All in all there were about 21 of us ranging from very experienced to relative newbies. It was my first time journeying with this lovely group of gentle people.

As tradition has it, an altar is set up in the centre of the circle where participants may place objects of power, offerings, photographs, etc to be imbued with the collective intentions of the journeys and the vibrations of the drum, rattle, song and story.

As people entered,  the altar took form. One of the last items to be placed was a bouquet of lilac blossoms freshly picked and offered to us all at the completion of the evening's work. So, my desire for a small sprig to take home was satisfied. Not only that but, I had a paper cup left over from my coffee in which to carry it securely in my car on the trip home to Burlington.

Its scent has graced our living room since then and every time I get a whiff I'm reminded that the universe does indeed support us.

The "lilac" lady also offered up some Lindt chocolates (the little individually wrapped balls of truffles - my faves) but I can't really pronounce that a synchronic happening as I'm pretty much always thinking of chocolate. It was, however, a treat that I certainly didn't turn down.

A very happy drive home was had that night as I savoured the dark chocolate melting in my mouth, the lilac sprig's scent filling my nostrils and the music of the drum, the rattle, song and stories sounding in my brain and vibrating in my cells.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Checked out at the Cash Register

I have been bouncing between the book FATE AND DESTINY - The Two Agreements of the Soul by Michael Meade and THE ROBERT MOSS BLOG over the past while. I'm reading the paperback, which I keep at home. Moss' blog is on my Kindle which I keep in my purse. I dip into its wisdom at a local cafes after I've emerged from beneath the basement stairs and migrated there so that I might mingle with other house-bound workers, also connected to their wireless devices, in our sorry attempt to participate in the "outside world". Since both the book and the blog deal with aspects of the soul and spirit, jumping between them further informs and enriches my understanding of the subject matter, influences my dreams and provides tremendous synchronic happenings to boot.

As I mentioned in the previous blog entry, when you are experiencing a dream drought, observing synchronicities that appear throughout one's day can be a great source of inspiration and amusement. Developing this kind of awareness also primes one to be motivated towards, and receptive to, dream recall and moments of intuition.

Yesterday, Sunday May 22nd (the day before Victoria Day) at noon, I (along with every other Burlington resident, it seemed), was maneuvering my way through the obstacle course that grocery store isles become the day before a majour holiday. But, I'm not bothered; in fact I can proudly announce that I have a method which leaves me cool and calm; a model of considerate efficiency. I leave my cart, out of the way of traffic, at the beginning of the isle, I float between carts battling for right of way and weave through traffic jams collecting my goodies along the way. I deposit them upon my return and move to the next isle.

All went without a hitch until at a crucial moment before lining up at the cash when I remembered one more item. I parked my cart at what was an unobtrusive spot when I left it but upon my return, only moments later, had developed into a majour traffic hazard. People were pushing "my stuff" out of the way. I had become, like everyone I'd judged, inconsiderate and as I quickly rushed in to drag my cart out of the way to make amends, I gashed my left forefinger on a wayward piece of wire poking out from the body of the cart.

As I unloaded my stuff onto the conveyer belt, blood gushed out of my finger. Periodically I sucked on it vampire-like to stay the flow, self-conscioiusly imagining blood dripping down the corners of my mouth and my incisors growing longer all the while. The line behind me was forming longer and longer as I struggled.

"Do you have a band aid?" I enquired, recalling my days behind the cash and knowing this was a probability.

"Nope," she answered as my massive pile of groceries grew even higher as, between sips, I stuffed items into assorted bags and bins.

Finally she offered, "I do have some paper towels. And I can wrap this around it." She proudly flashed a tape used to mark large unbaggable purchases as paid and then proceeded to tend to my wound. "Gosh, this reminds me of when I volunteered for a kid's hospital. There you go."

I half-listened, absorbed in my task of getting through the check out as quickly as possible. Only as I made my way out to the parking lot and glanced down at my finger did I appreciate the fact that it was wrapped in the paper towel, secured by a tape decorated with a heart covering my boo boo. Many years ago I was a bored, overworked cashier longing for some break in the routine monotony that this work can be and a connection to the divine spark that resides within us all.
click on image to enlarge
© Nance Thacker 1985

I rewarded myself with a stop-over at the local Starbuck's, and went to the next blogpost where I was to resume in Moss' blog. I've been reading his entries from the beginning and what appeared was SMELL THE SYNCHRONIZING... about Moss' experience at the check out. To appreciate how this whole synchronicity thing works and the implications it has, read the comment stream that follows and especially the one by Moss relating the story of the grumpy cashier who, like me, seemed to be "under her own personal black cloud of misery" as he so succinctly puts it.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Dream drought

On those mornings when my dreams evade me, slipping deeper into the shadows as I greet daylight, it feels as if I've taken off a coat and left it behind somewhere. It's not an uncomfortable feeling, it's just that I'm aware that something is missing.

After all these years of dream work I've come to expect dream droughts as part of a natural cycle of life. Before menopause my dreams would become exceptionally sensory and prolific starting around ovulation through to the beginning of my flow. Menopausal now, I experience a more continuous state of dream recall with periods of abundance around the full and new moon times. I've heard that menopausal women have greater access to states of dreaming and intuition, during "waking" states; that we have a foot in each world - those being the daily/visible realm and the otherworld/unseen realms of spirit and soul.

Anyway, I don't stress over missing my dreams, but instead use those days to look for "life rhymes" as Robert Moss calls them. To my mind, these are magical, playful, synchronicities that the universe lays before me to remind me that life is, after all, but a dream and I am the dreamer. They abound in: conversations, nature, a chance meeting, a paragraph on a page picked at random or a sign (literally) as happened this morning.

As we began our walk today, I mentioned to Candy, "I've got to sign up for the Moss dream workshop at the Omega Institute for October (I've not studied with him in person yet, though I've read his books, used his method, studied with a student of his and taken part in his online Dream Forum). It's been difficult to find a venue nearby; this is the closest I could get. I'm sure it'll be pretty popular so I should do it soon."  And, at that moment as we crossed the street and stepped up from the curb I looked up to see OMEGA splashed across a sign for a hair salon. We had been talking about this before we set out to the street, and had set out our route before leaving the house this morning, so it wasn't a case of subliminal suggestion. It was more like the universe giving me a thumb's up.

Other synchronicities have been popping up during the dream drought:
I celebrated a birthday recently and decided not to have a birthday cake; it didn't seem important. But, the next day I began to have some second thoughts about it.
"It's tradition."
"But I'm not a terribly traditional person."
"It may be bad luck not to have a birthday cake."
"Ah, but that's just a belief that enforces traditional practices. I'm not buying it, besides it's rather childish."
So, I told Rod that there'd be no birthday cake which left him rather disappointed about the cake and me surprisingly, missing not the cake but the ritual of blowing out the candle; not a bunch but of candles, just one.

That very night I opened the book, FATE AND DESTINY to page 27 where I'd left off. As I read down the page I was surprised to find the last paragraph discussing birthday celebrations and that one candle was originally traditionally used. "The single flame symbolized the inner spirit and natural, shining genius that enters the world at the birth of each child." The candle symbolizes the inner flame that burns at the centre of the soul and lights ones path. When you blow out the candle you not only make a wish but...


...also consider "what the candle of each life burns for. If the candle was blown out it was in order that the rising smoke could carry prayers for the spirit of the celebrant to the heavens above."

cartoon © Nance Thacker 1984


I'm back now.

Anyway, the next night we bought a slice of cake for me and a custardy dessert for Rod. He presented me with my one-candle-lit cake and as I blew out the fame, sending my prayer for this year out to the heavens, my birthday celebration felt complete. 

I was going to write about more coincidences but actually, none can top the birth announcement happening just as I'm writing about birthday celebration traditions.

Sometimes our dream droughts happen because something magical is occurring right here before our waking eyes. I think you now can catch my drift about how wondrous this stuff/life is; you just have to catch the moments when they arise. Also, I need to sign up for the workshop...

NOTE: I wrote this on Wednesday May 11th but couldn't post it til now cus I was waiting for official announcement from Amaya Rose's parents on FB and then BLOGGER was down for a while. The posting date that shows up is when I finally got it on the site.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

DREAM CIRCLE come & play

I'm very excited to be leading another DREAM CIRCLE at AKASHA'S DEN in Oakville on Wed. June 1st at 7pm.

If I had any doubts that we are all connected they were blown away during last month's Circle. After a brief discussion on dreams in general, the DREAMER shared her dream and answered questions directly related to it. As we listened our imaginations carried us to the portal of dream re-entry. Then, carried on the beat of the drum, participants became trackers and, along with the dreamer, re-entered the dream in search of answers to questions it had inspired. After emerging from her dream, we recorded and then shared our dreams of hers.

On this particular night, the light shone bright on the dreamer's journey as imagery, pathways travelled and themes, repeated themselves in the dreams of the trackers. After the spin-off dreams were shared the Dreamer talked about the backstory which fuelled that particular dream. Unlike psychotherapeutic, analytical methods of dreamwork, for this approach, it is not desirable for the trackers to know the context of the dream before their journey for we want to travel into the subconscious mind unfettered by the logical, orderly, limits of the conscious mind. We are not trying to "figure" anything out nor seeking to "interpret" the dream. Through dream re-entry we actually journey into a shared state of being and emerge with wisdom and insight that is fresh and alive.

The DREAMER as author and muse is the expert on the dreams s/he receives from their own journey and that of the trackers. Meanwhile the trackers in re-dreaming benefit from the wisdom that emerges from this shared experience.

I was first introduced to this wonderfully, shamanic, modern approach to dreamwork through the books of  Robert Moss. For years I played with his method and a few summers back I had the good fortune to participate in workshops lead by long-time student of his, Ruth Lewis.

In my one-on-one sessions I build upon the Moss' Lightning Dreamwork process: utilizing hypnosis techniques to enhance dream recall; drawing from years of refined study with Swami Radha, Richard Reeves and Victoria dream groups; exploring symbology and mythology as a student of art and art history at MacMaster University.

My life has been strongly influenced by my dreams. They have inspired/driven many of my major life decisions. They add a spice to life. Their presence assures me that there is something more going on underneath the surface of my life adding a depth, richness and magical quality to this earthly experience.

In dreaming I am waking up to the fullness of life.

So, fellow intrepid dreamers (novice or experienced) come join us for the DREAM CIRCLE on June 1st at 7pm at AKASHA'S DEN in Oakville and experience it for yourself.

You may be interested in these other entries about Dreams.