Wednesday, June 11, 2014


I think this is the most beautiful dream I have ever had.


I was walking with friends at the Oceanfront. We turned into a dark shop; I don't remember why. We were greeted by a friendly shopkeeper who spoke at length about his shop, his work, and other things. The shopkeeper was a painter and his work lined the tops of the walls (which seemed rather taller from the inside than the out). They were all of animals. This one an alligator, that one an armadillo. We admired the shopkeepers work a while and spoke with him a time. He told me about a tree by the beach. I went looking for it. My friends didn't come with me; they wanted to admire the art more. I was walking down the strip. The streets seemed endless and all the shops were the same horrible red and white. Sure, here the shop was white and the sign red, and there the shop was red and the sign white, but looking down those endless streets it was just the same persistent, nauseating sea of glaring white and oozing red. I walked and walked down those streets. Even though I never got tired, sometimes I did think I would never reach the beach, just walk on forever until I couldn't even tell left from right or the street from the sky, until my brain was just a blur of red and white and red and white and red and white and- GREEN! Oh glorious green! And what's that? Blue too? Yes, just when I thought I'd never see the sea, there was the beach, and between it and me the most glorious tree I'd ever seen! It's branches twisted and curled into impossible shapes. It's roots grew as thick as my leg and as high as my head before plunging to unimaginable depths beneath my feet. From between some roots of the tree burst a beautiful fresh water spring. I knew it was fresh water, even without tasting it. Amidst the permeating sting of the salt from the ocean I could smell the clarity of the spring. Like if you were a vacuum swimming in a matter stream. I looked up and noticed that there was a maze of boxes all around the tree. Then I realized I had brought one with me. I put it down with the others, assuming that they had been left by other visitors to the tree, assuming that that was the proper thing to do. I was just about to drink from the crystalline spring when all of a sudden- well, nothing happened really, I was just all of a sudden trying to remember how to get to the tree. Why should I be trying to remember how to get there when I'm there already? Oh, I'm not there, I'm in bed. Well, I'd better remember how to get back there because I've got to taste that water! 

In case you're not familiar with mythology and archetypes, the tree and spring are symbols of the Divine, Spirit, the Word of God. Trees are "The Tree of Life" on which Odin hung, crucified, to gain wisdom, the "Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil" which began mankind's journey away from the Garden and back to God. The spring is the "Font of Wisdom" such as the home of the Muses. The boxes I believe to be preconceived notions, dogmatic labels we put on our spirituality. Once you see clearly the Word of God you see what particular name you call It, what particular rituals you use to praise It are trivial. People have killed and do kill, hundreds, thousands over these things. But they are trivial to the mystic. Clearly this quest for the Tree represents finding the fresh water of the soul in the stinging salt of the material. When life feels like it is droning on and on, when you feel like the salt of sadness will wither you utterly, Mother Father God will make Its presence known and refresh your spirit. I don't think it's an accident I read/reblogged this tonight. Oh, sisters and brothers, I was full of the sads tonight! I felt my life was painted in that doleful red and white. I've been feeling completely out of touch with the spiritual, which is a completely foreign feeling to me. Dear God do I feel empty. No way back to be seen. My friend told me tonight that when I can't express myself I should turn to the Holy Spirit and I just thought, "Where is She?" To me, intellectually, that is a silly question. "Everywhere. Within you. Everywhere. Always." is what my better self whispers to me. But my ego self still cries "Then why do I feel so empty?!" Oh the dark night of the soul, my friends. I am blessed. Why do I feel so bereft, so alone? At least now I have hope. Whenever I think I can't go any further, whenever I think I can't take it anymore, whenever I feel like I'm about to be caught in the cold clutch of disaster, God just makes it okay. Somehow, God always just makes it go away. So I will have faith. And I will trust my feeling of connection will come back one day. Soon. I will regain my voice one day. Soon. I will have the words one day. Soon. And I will will hear the whole Whole sing. And I will joyfully sing along.