“You can shoo people away in real life, but not when they force their way in through the dream door.” ~ Donna Lynn Hope
“You know a trillion times more about art than me. But I’ve learned that it isn’t necessary to know all that much. You just make what you wanna see, right? It’s a game, right? It’s like being paid for dreaming.” ~ Tom Robbins
“Writing a book is always a hard job. One is always tempted to limit oneself to dreaming it.” ~ Gaston Bachelard
“What you are seeing and hearing right now is nothing but a dream. You are dreaming right now in this moment. You are dreaming with the brain awake.” ~ Don Miguel Ruiz
It is proving to be hard to get any words out this morning. Something about dreams, and danged if I can figure out what it is. Heavy allergies have my head in an itchy fog. But it rained. I first noticed it when I lay down to sleep last night, having put on a sleep learning mp3 that is designed to subliminally encourage creative genius. I could do without the genius part, for sure. Who needs that? As I put my head on the pillow I heard what sounded like rain. These sleep learning subliminal albums sometimes use the sounds of rainfall to sooth you down to where you can actually learn something. But I did not remember there being any rain on this particular album. Yeh, it was a nice addition, as if the Universe was saying “Rest child”. So I did. I slipped off through the gateway of a smile. Sweet stuff. Now, I still don’t remember what I dreamt, nor do I have any proof that is not still going on. But it is – it is still going on. And there’s a strong element of Spring Fever to it. Goddess stuff. Without going into too much personal process I can note that what I work on in therapy has much to do with goddess stuff. We were talking about it yesterday, as it has been a hell of a week in my dealings with and relationships with women in my life. Only part of it has been hellish, I should note. The predominating factor has been quite the opposite, it has been sweet discovery and even an occasional sparkle of understanding. I just went back and reread my blog post from last Tuesday, the 19th. I wrote about Lori, for whom I will always grieve. That’s one I won’t let go. Finding one’s soulmate ain’t no small thing. When they die it gets larger than large. And on we go. I imagine this Spring Fever stuff will carry on into Beltane, about a hare, hair, whatever, short of six weeks from now; Beltane being the beginning of Summer in ancient and modern Celtic tradition. In legend Beltane was when almost-King Arthur impregnated his half-sister, Morgaine. There was a magical White Stag involved as well. Beltane is about fertility. What can I say. Morgaine, of course, was a witch, a witch with a bad reputation these days. Some say she dabbled in the Dark Arts. Boy howdy, many modern Christians believe that any magic is of the Dark Arts. That of course is bullshit. I’m guessing they don’t include multiplying loaves of bread beyond rational and material probability. Or turning water into wine. I mean, who does that?! Magic is our birthright. That’s all I’m saying. And now that we have box wine we can get on to other uses for our magic. I’m using mine to protect myself where protection is need. I’m also using it to keep track of a certain smile I know. No ritual is needed in keeping track. All I need is eyes and ears and that giggle from the goddess who tickles me at the oddest times. She’s one of many goddesses, of course, but one of the best, which is good because . . . oh, never mind. I’ve got to get on to my workday. Bueno bye. Oh, before I go . . . I wonder how much magic wine Morgaine drank? Mixing metaphors in mysterious ways can be great fun (and the blogger meanders off into his day, giggling).
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.