“And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.”   Shakespeare, from Hamlet

The Dream Title:  “wondrous strange”
Introduction:
A woman walks with astrologer Rob Brezny and his rabbi friend, a silent yet friendly bear-man, in a large park filled with old trees.  They stroll slowly and quietly, pausing occasionally.

First movement:
Rob looks at her, matter-of-factly, says: Your lips move before your feet are grounded.  She begins to protest.  Rob and Reb Bear remain silent.  She:  Say it again.  Rob: Your lips move before your feet are grounded.  She considers the grain of truth in his words and smiles, softer now, nothing to defend.  They walk on.

Second movement:
Rob stops by a stone wall.  Using chalk, he draws a coat of arms, then points at the drawing.   She nods in understanding. They walk on.

Third movement:
The word pray rises in her mind at the very moment he says: pray.  She notes resistance arise and is about to tell him there’s no one to pray “to,” nothing to pray “for.”  Before she opens her mouth to question him, she decides to take it up within herself and contemplate.  They walk on.

Coda:
Time to part ways.  Reb Bear hugs her good-bye.  Rob’s eyes say good-bye.  She silently expresses gratitude and wanders off.  Time now for solitude.

Interlude:
This dream came nine months ago.  It feels like a poem to me.  Since then, I’ve turned it over gently, absorbing its richness.  What does it mean?  There’s no correct answer, no fixed meaning.  Dreams, like poems, give of themselves over and over, offering infinite possibilities, revelations and guidance.

The dream was given to me, though you can make it your own if you imagine it as your dream.  Let meanings, energies, associations and guidance of your own emerge.  That way, we wisely circumvent the tendency to interpret one another.  Another imperative when considering dreams or poems is to use a soft gaze.  I never place them under harsh light, insisting on answers.

For me, all aspects of a dream reflect the dreamer’s landscape.  Though they often carry archetypal patterns that can be instructive for others, like this one, which is why I’m sharing it.  It’s no accident I feel moved to extend this now, after mid-term elections.  Make your own sense of this.

One Possible Meaning of  “wondrous strange”

Introduction:
Engage the astrologer-seer within.  Pay attention to your inner night sky.  Become adept at reading the stars, planets and transits of your life.  Welcome friendly spirit Presences, human, animal and tree, and you’re in good company.  Respect their silences.  Let them teach you.

First movement:
Send your root deeply into the ground before you let words pass through your lips.  Wait until the wellspring of silence inspires and fills you.  Words can benefit when they move from that universal pool of wisdom.

Second movement:
The coat of arms is an ancient a symbol that evolved to represent one’s alliances, home and lineage.  To what and to whom are you faithful?  Offer thanks; take refuge in those sources of goodness, strength and nourishment.

Third movement:
Overflowing with gratitude and love, who cares about the what and who of prayer?  Let it go.  Praise!  That devotional experience is the Heart’s language.  Praise and praise again in the face of the world’s sorrows and joys.

Coda:
You’ve been given all you need and more.  When you say your good-byes, give thanks.  Remember you are not going it alone. Every being you’ve ever loved, every being that’s ever loved you, remains in your Heart.  Wondrous strange!

***  Does this dream resonate with you?  Does it have relevance for you in these times?  If so, make the dream your own. Feel free to let me know where it takes you!

Avec amour, always, Krayna

Image by Marc Chagall, The Dream
Musical accompaniment:  Gymnopédie No. 1 – Erik Satie and Henryk Gorecki, Symphony #3, opus 36