The gift of delays

Another vivid dream. I’m in a traditional diner, casually talking to the owner as I wait for my carry-out order. (My dream’s cast included guest star Beth Chapman, wife of Dog the Bounty Hunter, as the no-nonsense owner. Perfect choice.)

I mention the road construction in the area around the diner and ask if they’re also working on roads near where she lives. Yes, she says. I smile and ask, Don’t you just love it?

An invitation to escape

I can tell from her expression, this is not a turn of conversation she expected. How could anyone love road construction?

Road construction, I say, is a cosmic invitation to escape into the present moment.

And I woke up, thinking I’d be just as surprised by this idea as the diner owner, since I often spend delays speculating about the future or reviewing things from the past. But my dreaming self sounded so sure (and so wise!), I began a list of ways she/I might be right.

Potential gifts of road construction delays: a starter list
  • A chance to notice the natural beauty of the place where I live
  • An opportunity to check in with the car that carries me over these roads, noticing whether its purring or asking for attention
  • Time communing with my neighbors as I consider that we’re all on this road/path together in both the literal and metaphorical sense
  • Appreciation for all those involved in improving the road

Everything on my list sounds more appealing than grinding my teeth in frustration or spending the time worrying about what might or might not happen to my ultimate plans for the day. So heck, I’m going to throw in a couple more things to do while waiting:

  • Practice sending silent blessings to the road crew, all my fellow drivers and their passengers
  • Make up a song about the day. Or turn on some recorded tunes and do some car dancing
  • Just breathe
  • And of course, sneak the fries from my carry-out diner order

Where do you spend your delays? In the past? The future? Or if you are already as wise as my dream self, escaping into the present moment, what is your practice?

Photo credit: Kyle May

Drawing to us the things we desire

Last night, I dreamt I was part of a class learning to draw. What did this dream represent to me, I wondered?

Even as I asked the question, I had to laugh. Just the word “drawing” told me everything I needed to know.

First, I drew up a list
  • Drawing is an art form.
  • The act of moving charcoal across paper, i.e. drawing, is an act of creation.
  • To draw something is to bring it to you, for example drawing cash from an account or drawing attention in a crowd.
  • Drawing also implies tapping a power source, for example, an appliance draws electricity through an outlet.
Then I sketched in some details

In the dream, it took me forever to pick out the perfect place to sit and create my latest drawing assignment. Once settled, I began talking myself out of drawing at all. The assignment had been to draw my classmate, a good looking man named Paul. I knew one of the other women was hoping to begin a relationship with him.

Pretty flimsy excuse for dodging an exercise in creativity.

And finally, drew some conclusions
  • I, too, desired my hunky classmate, though my dream self wouldn’t acknowledge it.


  • If I drew him, I would energetically draw him to me. A good thing, right?


  • What then? What if I had proof that I was an infinity powerful creative being? Overwhelming!

and worse

  • What if everyone knew as well as I did that I didn’t deserve it?

And there’s the real rub of it. Apparently, I’m still grappling with feeling worthy. Still hesitant to use my full power of creation. Still trying to rationalize my fears by pretending to protect someone else’s best interests—as if any of us are qualified to know what’s in the best interest of another.

How are you doing with these questions? How do you hold yourself back? Where do you fling yourself headlong into creation? And how adept are you at admitting your desires (and believing you’re worthy to live them)?

As for me, guess I’ll be going back to class tonight!

Photo credit: Sarah Robinson

You put yer right brain in, you put yer right brain out

Is there such a thing as interdimensional hokey pokey? It sure would explain a lot about my “reality” these days.

Putting sleep time to lively use

My dreams have become crispy vivid, including coherent conversations with people I love. Some of these dreams contain obvious information about my past lives. And while I wouldn’t describe my dream state as lucid, I am far more conscious in my sleep than ever in the past, able to bring what I learned there into my eyes-open time.

I’m currently reading William Buhlman’s book, and while I expect there will be some useful info for me around this experience, I’ll be (delightfully) surprised if he calls it the interdimensional hokey pokey.

Photo credit: anoldent

Firewalk? FireDANCE! (would you?)

Last night in meditation, I saw me walking over glowing coals and I looked an awful lot like this fella here—arms out, head up, laughing deep and loud as I made my merry (yet majestic) way through the red hot field of embers.

So far, I’ve only firewalked in my dreams, but I just know I’ll get the chance to do it for real. Super excited about it. Have you ever done it? Would you?

Photo credit: Trenton Schultz

Surrendering to the shadow

What is the shadow?

If ever you’ve compared yourself to another or been scolded by a parent or teacher or minister—and who hasn’t?—you’ve got shadow material. These are the parts of ourselves we’ve deemed unlovable. Parts of us that don’t live up to what we “should” be, based on some version of what we’ve heard, observed and finally internalized.

Names we call ourselves

We give our shadow stuff equally unlovable names like selfish, irresponsible, cowardly, arrogant, dishonest, childish, sellout, fickle, etc. One of the most challenging things in life is facing and loving our true selves, warts and all.

Me and my shadow

So this week, on the heels of recognizing Resistance around my unfinished project, came the bigger aha that I was facing shadow material.

The two biggest clues:

  • A dream in which, as a student, I mediated between an affronted Coach and a spiteful Teacher.
  • An email from a friend that triggered an out-of-proportion emotional response.
How I’m working the clues

The dream. Since the characters in most dreams are merely aspects of ourselves, it seems obvious the Coach was the keeper of my “shoulds,” and the Teacher was the part of me that feels the “shoulds” are unfair, but would rather stay stuck—and lash out to others—than change the rules. The way the dream played out showed my waking self I have made progress toward accepting and loving my shadow self. I didn’t have to change the Teacher (or Coach), but neither did I give them ultimate authority over me and my choices.

The email. First off, I was grateful it was email and not a phone call. My friend never needs to know what happened in the first hour or so after I read the message. First, I felt resentful over the “shoulds” that were triggered in my brain. Then I felt threatened. Then guilty at realizing that if I followed the dictates of my “shoulds” and made the generous offer that seemed called for—what a true practitioner of unconditional love “should” do—that I would resent him.

I tortured myself for awhile about being a petty and possessive person (note the shadow names). Then I asked Team Sally to help me find a response I could offer with love. I pulled from my Tarot deck, receiving the Queen of Swords, and pondered awhile longer.

Beyond should and shouldn’t, beyond black and white, lies an open heart

As soon as I opened my heart to solutions beyond either doing what that old Coach said I should or telling my friend to fix his own damn problem, I remembered that there is more to life than This or That. In short order, I had a new idea—I could recruit from other friends to help this one. I sent out an email asking for help.

Minutes later, I had another email from my friend. False alarm, he said. There wasn’t going to be a problem after all.

Heh. That’s the thing about shadows. Once you turn around to embrace them, they dissolve.

Photo credit: D. Sharon Pruitt

God winks

Today was not only the day of the new moon, but also a full solar eclipse. I was feeling it even before I rose this morning, with a busy night of dreaming. My dreaminess persisted, to the point I changed some plans this afternoon to get me off the road.*

Yet there’s no doubt in my being that the divine has quite a sense of humor. This morning as I was dreamily brushing my teeth, I saw an angel in the design of my faucet in much the same way I’ll see critters in the clouds or entire sagas illustrated in the apparently random swirls of a floor tile.

Still chuckling over my angelic faucet, I headed to the car, picking up yesterday’s mail on the way. The mail included a postcard announcement that the Underworld had moved to a new location. I laughed out loud. Of course I’d hear about it on the day the moon was due to occlude the light of the sun. What better time for Hades to shift the realm of the dead? Sure, the postcard indicated the store is called Ginny’s Underworld, and that they sell bras, but I know a god wink when I see one.

*Huh. As I type this, I remember my post on last month’s lunar eclipse, when I had much the same dreamy experience of driving under the influence.

Photo credit: kissyface

Flying, with Frappuccino

This morning, I was skimming along the surface of the earth when I went off the edge of a cliff. At first, I panicked, seeing water and shoreline below, both coming up much too fast. But in my dreams, I can fly, I remembered. Why not try that here?

So I did. To my delight, I began gaining altitude. Then too much altitude! I realized I was clutching a big fluffy pillow to my chest and decided to use it as a boogie board as I allowed myself to drift down… down.

An angel was flying below me, keeping an eye on things on earth. He had short, curly blond hair. It gave him a start to see me at first, then he smiled and offered me one of the two frappuccinos he held. I accepted, choosing not to mention it was almost gone. The last couple sips were yummy. I clutched my pillow and experimented with a slow roll. Fun.

I might still be flying now, but for a hungry cat bouncing up and down on the bed, asking for breakfast. Thanks for the frappuccino, angel!

Photo Credit: Y