10. Dreaming the Earth


Blog 10: October 8-10, 1996—I dream another native dream. Men dance in a Native American ceremony and pray for the spirit of my friend’s brother on the East Coast. I feel sad as I watch. I sense I am holding onto something. I have an attachment to my friend and a dance we shared and performed together before I came here. We both carried a determination that was running us, and I feel my dream is asking me to let go of this determination that pushes me.

My body still carries this energy as I wake up. It subtly reminds me of last week’s injury when I pulled a groin muscle as I stretched in Judith’s house—my temporary home during my past month in New Mexico when I stopped here on my way to the West Coast. My dream also provides clarity. As I look outside, I feel all the negativity of the world quickly becoming minimalized by this garden of earth I am living on in this desert city. The land is not just land. It is home, family, hope.  All over the world, we destroy the land, and yet here I walk outside and I can still see the stars, and the trees break the whisper of the wind, and I feel an awe to witness the power of the earth. She is a gift, and all should be done in her name.

Despite these moments of awareness and awe, though, there are days out here where I return to a space of sadness. For all that I have been handed by this universe, and especially lately, I feel my impatience and how I have, in ways, not appreciated what I have been given. I dance as much as I can to feel contented, and I tire my injured groin in a longing to feel my own aliveness. I am a caged bird that doesn’t get the gifts that have shown up to make possible my flight. Instead, I run in fear of these spirit and human helpers temporarily clipping my wings. I fear getting stuck in complacency, in a sweet satisfaction of living what I don’t feel is mine.


8 thoughts on “10. Dreaming the Earth

  1. Nice dream of the birds in the drawers of your basement! I love that image. It sure is true that even though we may ignore, abandon our dreams, our passions, they remain there, inside of us, waiting to fly. Thanks for sharing. That’s a beautiful post you wrote and dream.


  2. I have not had any dream like that yet, as I rarely remember my dreams. The ones I do remember always come in a deja vu fashion. So I will have a dream, wake up not remembering it, and sometime later, days, months, years down the line, I will have moment that I recall having dreamt – it is always a dream where I am doing something or somewhere in the future, and it always happen in the future in real life. My current running hypothesis is that in my sleep, I shift into a possible future and do something, then shift back – hence why I would not remember, and when I actually do it in that future time, I then remember having done this before.


  3. Thank you for this wonderful post. I like the dream like flow of the musings. It’s a nice change from the rabidly linear stuff which I both tend to read and write. What I got out if this was a reminder to express gratitude for what we have. I try to do a daily gratitude prayer to give thanks to the universe. Even so, in the hubbub of daily materialistic life we can get so caught up in alert problem solving we tend to measure the world by what it lacks, instead of the present beauty that it holds. Here’s a link to a post about my daily gratitude prayer practice. I think you might enjoy. Warmest regards. https://sharmarama.wordpress.com/2015/02/04/gratitude-prayer-a-daily-multi-dimensional-tune-up


  4. Yes, gratitude is so key, isn’t it. It can be so easy to be lost in the forest, looking for our way through, and failing to the see the trees, their bark, the light casting shadows, the love we can feel in communion. I like your blog and focusing on ways to be in gratitude. Gracias.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s