I feel as if I’m being initiated against my will.
Although, not against My will.
as i stood in the shower, I was aware of the man who had come in my dreams last summer. He is tall, powerfully muscled but not in a body-builder sort of way, was either bald or had sandy blonde hair, and a depth to his brown eyes that I have never seen in a physical person. He told me a lot. That it is my masculine energy that has prevented me from Being in Dreaming. But that, contrary to my peculiar belief, I am not alone at all; that I have been guided by him, among others, along a path to begin a becoming of conscious awareness of my Being in Dreaming.
That I gave birth to my first child on a particularly auspicious day was at first, I thought, a very good omen for my son. When I gave birth to my second child on another incredibly auspicious day- that is when my focus began to waver from the outer to to the inner.
For, what is the common denominator, here?
Is it that my child is psychic and somehow plucks my thoughts from the ether? Or can it be that I place them there for him to encounter in his own time?
Reading Being in Dreaming has felt like an initiation in itself. I recognize, only after having read it, the genius of the author. She weaved a story so masterfully compelling that it pulled me straight into Dreaming from the very beginning. While my mind was preoccupied with the content so carefully paced and seamlessly woven, my own Imagination created from that fertile soil and began to work of its own accord. Florinda Donner placed her thoughts in the ether for me-or anyone- to pluck in my own time. Her story was merely the thread that I followed to encounter those thoughts.
A question arises; who is the psychic one, then? Is it Florinda, who wove a magical tapestry for me to follow and encounter my own ability to dream? Was it this mysterious man I saw in my dreams? Is it me? Or my son, after who’s birth most of these experiences have taken place?
I don’t really know. Maybe I never will. Does it matter?
My guide/the man from my dream went on to tell me about dreaming. That it was my masculine energy that prevented me from Being in dreaming; even though I dreamed, and my dreams were intense, and very realistic, even mistaking them for waking experiences, I was dreaming in masculinized energy.
I know what he means. Only after my recent experiences do I truly know it, however. My ‘I’ has become eminently flexible and capable of the most astounding feats- to identify with anything at all. The victim, perpetrator, savior complex entirely transcended, is really the ability to identify with all or none of them on perfect whim. To be pure awareness is to have no compunction. To lie for the sheer enjoyment of it. The Holy Trinity in it’s Masculine, Feminine, Holy Child complex as well. More importantly, to disidentify with the personality that I have grown from childhood to consider my own. To disidentify with the feelings and emotions that that personality experiences- and not the experiences themselves. To be pure awareness is to be perfectly flowing, without attachment to any one of them, and without judgement of any one of them. It is remarkably similar to the Self… if not the same. And it is the Feminine way of being. To dream.
Because the first time that I met my guide/the man from my dream, it was clear to small me-my personality- that something was lost. A great tragedy. I felt incredible grief. I lost something precious that I didn’t even know I had was the thought that small me had. And the grief small me felt was real. Small me didn’t know what it was that small me had lost. Was it a future man? A child’s soul? My soulmate that could no longer incarnate and meet me in this lifetime? Small me wondered, and speculated.
I realized, in the shower just now as my guide related to me, that the child who did not want me to forget her, who did not want me to forget what she’s been through, who did go through terrible and de-personing experiences, was my small me. She represents, actually, a masculinized energy. She is doing for an outcome. She is not content in her self-worth and filled up with the joy of Being. She is in fear and in manipulation; and her dreams are dreams of loss of herself.
I remember that when I went into my Terror, I found there the core wound of fear of I can’t do what I want. It really was that simple. I felt primordial fear, not of dying, actually, but of being utterly unable to do what I want. One might discard this as petty, entitled, that only the worst fear of an utterly spoiled brat and conceited little girl who thinks the world revolves around her would be to fear being prevented from doing what she wants!
But that’s what it was.
After discarding all judgements, all condescending blame and name-calling and de-personifying; I can see what eminent self-worth is. I have it. It lives within me. It is the thing which allows me to feel so deeply about what I want. It is that which creates the very possibility of holding any depth of feeling. For, if there was no self-worth, there would be no-thing at all for emotional feeling to relate to.
And my self-worth was about what I want. Not what I need, but for what I want. If it had been about what I need, then these emotions would have had relation only to the outer environment and it’s ability to provide. But it wasn’t. It was absolutely clear in that it was about what I want. It was all about my inner wants. My desires which transcend the environment. Which transcends even my body and it’s needs. What I want is not based in needs expressed in material physicality. What I want is to be. In freedom, and in love.
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