A little night music

 

Nighttime at a roadside inn somewhere near Mt. Shasta.

 

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Found on Myazdatabase images

Banners of blood red and yellow clouds shining brightly in the distance turn grey silhouette upon a mountain’s edge at days end.

There’s a holy feeling as quiet descends across the valley. In communion I stand in an empty field singing to the night.

A bright flash lights the distant mountain kingdom where war sabers of cold and warm meet. The gods of day and night having one last joust.

A knight of the road dismounts his chuffing beast, fills its hungry belly with a sulfurous black fluid, and again flies into the now inky sky.

 

 

Who are you?

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From the Book of Dreams– RJ Cole

An old man tired and at the end of a very long day lay his head upon a rock and soon fell fast asleep.

In his sleep the Other came to him and hovered quietly until noticed.

“Who are you?” the man asked.

“Who are you?” Was the reply in turn.

“Awake I am known as Robert. And you?”

“I am the same as you. In sleep I am what I am when awake.”

“What is your purpose here?” asked the old man.

“What is your purpose?” Asked the Other.

“I’m not sure. What is my purpose? I’ve searched my life over to find my purpose. Are you here to show me?”

“It’s not about searching for purpose, in that you cannot find it. Your purpose will find you. When it does you’ll be it.”

“How will I know when it’s found me?” asked the old man.

“When you’re being it.”

And he woke up.

 

 

The feminine soul comes to me through my sleeping dream bringing with her the secret alchemy of wholeness

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Traditionally it is thought that the soul of a woman is masculine and the soul of a man is feminine and that it is this interesting opposition that is trying to be reconciled through our dreams and relationships.

 

Seeking I am lead to a place from which I cannot return.

 I am reminded that I am but a visitor here from a place I never left.

 

 She came to me by dream urging me toward distant hills.

 She opened me that I may give birth to the creative.

 Though I sought comfort in ideas, she led me to the song of my heart.

 

 My desire for her is but her desire for me.

 I draw her unto me as she draws me unto her.

 I dream her with every breath

 as she is the breath that dreams me.

–RJ Cole 2017

 

Who is the ‘she’ of whom I speak? She is my soul who animates me– the spirit guide who comes to me as a means of bringing balance to the archetypal dueling forces of the masculine and feminine within me. She came to me in a dream to help my conscious self unite with my spiritual self and invite me to leave the diversions of both my adult and childhood selves behind and scale the mountains beyond where my true self lay. She is the connection with my soul that I yearn for.

Rumi wisdom: A different take on “what you seek you shall find”

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You are searching the world for

treasure but the real treasure is

yourself. If you are tempted by

bread, you will find only bread.

What you seek for you become.”

–Rumi

 

Search for intellectual understanding and you’ll miss the spirit. Understanding is the booby prize in life. It will not help you find your soul or manifest your spiritual self. It will not fill the void in your life or provide any lasting meaning. Seek ways to love, to manifest your soul, and find your spiritual self and you will find your true self.

Seek beauty and you’ll become it. Seek outer pleasures and they will fail you. Be in wonder and awe and you will be filled with the spirit. Seek to satisfy the desires of the ego and you’ll miss your real self.

Seek anger and hate and you will become it. Seek mystery and it will fill you with love for self and others. Seek out your shadow self and it will set you free for it is only when you hide it or hide from it that it has control over you. Seek only things and you’ll miss the intangibles, the ethereal, and divine. Seek to give and you’ll receive the whole world. Seek to possess and be possessed. Seek to just be and nothing will own you but you.

Seeking to find that which agrees with you results in missing the truth. If seeking to keep someone you will lose them. Trying to find a truth that fits your reality will forever blind you to reality.

None of these need your understanding in order to become, just their practice will make it so.

 

“You have woken up late,

lost and perplexed

but don’t rush to your books

looking for knowledge.

Pick up a flute instead and

let your heart play.”

–Rumi

A love poem: I dream of Lithia.

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I’m spending a little time in one of my favorite little towns in Southern Oregon when this dream poem came to me.

 

A breeze extends its wings across the pond. A harlequin cloth spreads accross a palette of greens and yellows.

The wake of malards smears the trees bending in reflection upon the darkening pool. Sounds of water and restless leaves whisper in my ear as the sun sets gold and the air stills before the night.

The scent of deepening darkness wraps itself about me as a musk settles and I’m cloaked in her shadowed embrace.

Capturing the divinity in everyday things

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The mystical is not so lofty as we make it out to be. Standing before a multicolored canyon at sunrise, or above a misting forest or wooded trail, staring at the fog rolling in across the hills and into a valley, the crash of waves upon the shore, the first cry of a baby’s borning, a rose in full bloom, falling in love, a piece of music that stirs the soul sending waves of joy throughout your body, the sight of a feast after the fast, middle schoolers swarming the local coffee shop at the end of their day, swarms of birds dancing to the setting sun, or a deceased loved one visiting a dream are all common mystical experiences that speak clearly about the divine in the everything of the everyday.

These moments are sacred and point to the infinite being that we are. When connected with the whole of the every day we are never alone, never lost, or confused. When standing in the moment we are in a religion of our own and open to all that there is and the imagination soars set free from the petty restrictions of the ego.

It is at those times of the common mystical that we can sink down into our deeper self and find our true being. We cannot define the experience but when it happens we know that we have transcended the ordinary and connected with something much bigger, much grander than our limited selves.

The mystical is not limited to visions and dreams. Look for the common experiences of the mystical in every facet of your life. They’re there and will make themselves known if you open your mind and heart to them.

“and Grace will lead me home”

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The other night I had a dream where I was being acknowledged for something I felt I hadn’t really earned. This morning I wondered where in my life I might be claiming unearned acknowledgement when I realized that perhaps the negative might also be true. Where in my life might I be rejecting acknowledgment e.g. claiming unacknowledgment? Then it came to me that I’ve often received acknowledgment that seemed to come from nowhere, unbidden and having done nothing to earn it.

This is the stuff of religions as in the mystical hand of the universe intervening for no reason into the lives of ordinary people. Some people would call this Grace.

Sometimes acknowledgment is just acceptance, assent and affirmation i.e. a declaration of your right to exist, just as you are and as an appreciation of that fact.

There were many times in my life when had not grace been there, I might not physically still be here. Many of us have those traumas in life where we wonder why we’re still here. I’ve been in a situation where in combat the person near me died while I continued to stand. I have stumbled on many occasions where I could have met my death, or suffered extreme trauma and yet I survived unscathed. There have been times when events have presented themselves in such a way that doors of opportunity opened that I had never known existed and I’ve walked through into a whole new world.

None of this happened because I was more special, or had somehow earned the grace offered. The truth is I don’t know why–why me, and why not them? Many of them certainly deserved it more than I.

 

“Through many dangers, toils and snares…

I have already come.

T’was Grace that brought me safe thus far…

and Grace will lead me home.”

–John Newton

 

That line from the hymn Amazing Grace speaks to me like never before. Its meaning for me has evolved over the years. The use of the word, “home” not only refers to a spiritual home, but to the place where my soul resides and where the body rests, or interacts with the other “bodies” of this world. In a very profound way, everywhere I find myself is my home in that it is becoming a reflection, or projection, of the home I carry with me. I consider it grace to have lived long enough to experience my life in this way, not that I’m always conscious of that experience in that I still need continuous reminders like the other night’s dream.

I hope you experience your life as the Grace that it is.

 

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My conversation with the night

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I walked with you tonight and asked again why is it I have to learn lessons if I can’t take them with me when I die? And you answered…”the lessons you’ve learned were never meant for you…they were meant for me”.

“I learn through form”, you said, “with each specific form designed for a specific lesson. You have taught me and continue to teach me well. For this I shall be eternally grateful.”

For a moment I paused in the dark near an old sycamore and let in the words. Am I not more than your teacher? I said.

“You are”, he said.

Who am I then?

“Me”, he said.

I don’t feel as though I am you. It feels separate. Do you mind?

 

“Not at all, he said. When the lesson comes to an end we will continue to the next. There are infinite lessons for you and I, but we have all eternity to study them.”

Working Against Myself

th.jpegI woke up with most of this poem still relatively intact. With a few tweaks here and there I’m presenting it as an example of what can happen when you go to sleep asking your dreams for some input to some vexing problem e.g. “Why do I keep working against myself?”.

 

 

There’s a war going on within.

A disdain for the male and distrust of the female

Leaves me lost in between.

Stuck to father figures

Like burs stuck to my socks

Walking the dry dense fields of my youth.

Annoying, scratchy, sometimes painful

Chaffing my soul restricting movement forward

Burs hard to let go of, the fathers hold fast.

Each with promise of heroism

But having only the capacity to be human.

Leaving me ever lost.

I know how to be a human self

It’s my soul self that I crave

Can I cross this field having learned something, anything?

Who are you?

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My name is Bob.

That’s your name, but who are you?

I’m a Psychologist.

That’s what you do, but who are you?

Ahh, I see what you want. I am a constellation of things a son, a, husband, a father, a friend, a soldier, a scholar, a writer, an actor, and a singer.

Yes you have done all those things, but who are you?

And I was silent.

What is life?

Why, it’s a journey!

To where are you going on this journey?

Huh, well I don’t really know.

What’s the point of your life?

It’s to learn things so that you can make a living and take care of yourself and your family and to make a positive difference to others.

Those are all laudable doing of things, but what’s the point of life?

If not that, then I guess I don’t know.

When you dance what is the point of dancing, is it not to just dance, is not the point of dancing, dancing? When you sing, is not the point of singing, singing?

So what is the point of life?

Living.

So who are you?

Quietly I smiled.

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From a dream that kept repeating “Who are You?”, nothing more, just a disembodied voice repeating “who are you?”