RobinWrites!

It was one of those nights...

So it's mid-winter,  been dreary gray for a week that feels like forever, the bills have been stacked and re-stacked, sorted and re-sorted, the business that feels so promising ain't generating squat, and all the education, talent and passion in the world isn't coming close to filling ye old bank account.....

With heart and mind in stress-shreds, my head hits the pillow.  I semi-sleep in between flips and dream fragments, when suddenly I come to in my bed in my room - I think? Is my husband next to me? - check. All the windows, doors, furniture as I know it to be? - check. Still hazy, but certain of my locale, my attention is immediately drawn to - flash.......flash........a fuzzy pink circle of light flashing on the wall to my right. Wait - that's where the mirror is - is it a reflection? or is it coming from behind? Hard to tell since I'm not wearing my glasses.

And now I'm remembering...kind of dream-embering something.... something that came in that blip of dream just before -- didn't someone tell me I'd see this? And they told me just what to do ---- oh dear, what WAS it? It said it would flash five (? was it five? I think it was five) times - (oh no! how many times has it flashed?! I know I saw two, but what if I missed some?)  - and there it is again, that makes three -- this is so weird..... let's see - remember, remember - it said there would be a sound (what sound was it?) and just then a desperate howling begins outside and a few night birds "who-who" and squawk in an eerie chorus. The hair on my wrists stands straight up from the goose pimples running my arm span - remember..... remember..... (ugh, I don't remember!)... I'm supposed to do something?? what IS it? Read something, yes - but what? I can't even see without my glasses - and it's dark ....

What just took me 12 minutes to recount in writing actually all occurred in a moment (ok, maybe two moments). My familiar bed and room now had an aura of doom, a presence of evil. I'd somehow brought someone or something mysterious but clearly BAD through the portal of sleep to mess with me here - (or might it be the other way round? Maybe I took the dooms of the day into dreamland - ruining what might otherwise have been a dreamscape of golden fields and blue skies?) The only way, it seems, that I might un-do what I've done is to REMEMBER what it is I was told to do when this happened and do it, but is it already too late? Don't give up, remember, remember ......ahhhh, I'm supposed to read the writing on the wall. As if on a mission, I reach for the nightstand, put on my glasses, switch on the light, stare at the wall - the one with the mirror, waiting to see a map or message of some kind magically appear - taken off-guard now to be really and truly, all the way awake, sitting up in bed, the bright startling light erasing all evidence of fuzzy pink flashes .... HUH??!?

Turn it off, turn it off –what if I now missed the 5^th (and final?) flash?! – what if I disrupted the grand scheme of whatever I’m to do? Misery upon misery, what if I failed this quest? Oh, what was it they said would happen if I did not do as instructed? Shudder, sigh. All I know is it wasn't good. And, damn - I'm awake - this isn't even a half-way dream now, this is MY LIFE -- oh yeah, the gray day life full of incomplete projects and negative balances.

What to do when you don't want to be awake, don't want to think any of your thoughts, don't want to be HERE in this freaky place, but have no intention of leaving the seeming security of the cool sheet and heavy comforter --- AND you're afraid to go back to sleep? Wake someone else up into it, of course! And the person of choice just so happened to be making the sound of a chainsaw-in-heat right next to me.

Shake and whisper, “Hey honey, wake up?”

Loud, stinky night breath, exhale…..chain-saw inhale.

“Honey? Hello?  Please wake up!” Daytime volume with sense of urgency. Shaking his snoozing chin back and forth in my hands.

He rolls over and away, pulls the cover up, rhythmic snores uninterrupted.

Shoving and pummeling him now, voice on the verge, “You have to wake up! There’s something BAD going on in our house! Wake Up, up up!” I kick his shins and knee him in the hip, “Grrrrrrrrr – wake UUUUUPPPPP!!!”

His eyes roll partway up, like window blinds, and his eyeballs lower slowly into the slit. I peer into the open place, willing those pupils to SEE me, daring those lids to close on me again, holding my breath against the night odor, as I move my head closer and closer, till we nearly rub noses – I inhale, getting ready to tell my tale, and --- what do you know? The lids lower and, in rote unconsciousness, he buries his head under not one, but two pillows, and continues to sleep.

Ok, guess I’m on my own. Now what if there really were some robber who broke in? Let’s obsess about that a bit….

I call in angels and say prayers, surround myself with light and eventually sleep....only to be dreamatically re-summoned to wake state with an intense sense of urgency. Once again, I verify my locale – hubby, windows, furniture – check, check, check. This time, mega-alert for a sound. Last time, it was flashing light, this time, I’ve been instructed (couldn’t say by who or how, just know) to listen. Ears and all senses perked in anticipation (with a slight twinge of doubt) - and then --- KA-PLOOM, KA-PLOWie! POP POP! BANG – what, huh? Freaking fireworks? That – BLANG BOOM BAM – definitely sounds like fire – POP BLAST BLOOM- works! Revisit my reality, pinch myself – check, it hurts (ow) – phone where I left it on its charger tells me it’s  3:30 am.  What the heck? KER-BOOM, BANG! POP! PLOWIE!  Ok, sorry Mr. Deep Sleep Man, this time you ARE GOING TO WAKE UP! Other consciousness is not an option!

Bop him on the head with the pillow, once, twice, three times. Shake shake – “Wake Up, wake up, WAKE up, WAKE UP – YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP NOW!”

Jiggle, tickle, shove.  

BOOM! POP! Ping ping ping – Ka-Blam!

“DO YOU HEAR THAT?! Fireworks! Those are fireworks! Wake up and hear the fireworks! I NEED YOU! WAKE UP!”

He rouses a level or two, eyes open, staring out the big window, equally baffled by the random chorus of firecrackers. They go on for I-don’t-know-how-long. We lie and listen, stunned. When it finally ends, I’m on auditory buzz, bound and determined to get some night comfort from my soulmate.

Story in blips: “So, there was this flashing light….and a message…. and howling, who-ing…. Freaking out….. something bad… so scared… tried to wake you….snore snore…. back to sleep… wake…. fireworks… you heard them, too, right?”

Affimative nod. Shew – good, I’m not crazy. But then? THEN he says,  "Well, do you think maybe, whatever it is, just wants you to write a newsletter for COPS?” And the snoring begins again.

What is going on? I need to pee, but convinced the childhood evil-pirate-man might lie in wait under the bed, there is no way I’m getting up now. In-between prayers, I systematically relax my muscles, beginning with big toes.  Somewhere between shoulders and neck, I fall back into the mysterious dark dream…. the dream that ultimately wakes me to my own voice screaming, my own hands frantically grabbing for and shaking my husband…. my own husband finally all the way awake, preparing to jump out of bed and beat up who-or-what-ever is traumatizing his wife. The intensity of waking completely erases the dream that preceded it; I have no idea what happened. He holds me. He listens.  I listen to my own disjointed tale, more agitated and confused than ever....

I'll be back to process & ponder, but in the meantime..... Have you ever had one of those nights?

Connecting Dreamer Dots

Remember only this one thing,” said Badger.
“The stories people tell have a way of taking care
of them. If stories come to you, care for them.
And learn to give them away when they are
needed. Sometimes a person needs a story more
than food to stay alive. That is why we put these
stories in each other’s memory. This is how
people care for themselves.”
—Barry Lopez, Crow and Weasel

Well, 25 days into 2010 and I continue to process and ponder life learnings that transpired in the events of 2009... is that wrong? ;-)

I focused a lot on dreaming last year. And I've learned fascinating, mind-blowing things about how to remember and interact with the dreams themselves. I've seen first-hand how dreams respond to intentions, answer questions, provide clues to divine mystery, to personal creativity and collective consciousness, not to mention deep healing of the soul. And, yes, I'm longing to share about ALL of that, but perhaps the most miraculous morsel of my dreaming-quest is the PEOPLE, connections and relationships that have emerged because I tapped in.

First, I connected with dream-friends online. These weren't people I knew and then we formed a group to share our dreams; no, this was a group of individual dreamers from all over the globe, longing to learn from dreams. So, unlike the majority of our culture where we know people and have no clue what they dream, in this online group, I knew their screenname and dream-themes, but if I passed them on the street, I wouldn't even know it.  The online anonymity combined with dream-sharing makes for a special brand of intimacy. * (A new online Conscious Dreaming, Conscious Living forum begins today, Mon. Jan 25. It's moderated by author and dream ambassador extraordinaire, Robert Moss, and hosted by Spirituality & Health magazine. Learn more and register for the 8-week course here.)I was having intense insights and breakthroughs, which led me to a live workshop (in Mystic, no less) to meet the teacher, Robert Moss, and other students, face to face. While there, we schemed to bring Robert and his workshop, "The Healing Power of Story" to Cincinnati in June. I devoted myself to finding folks to spend the early days of summer learning with him. Filling a workshop on Dreaming and Storytelling in our conservative city during the pathetic economy was a challenge, to say the least. It truly seemed as though each participant who found their way was *meant* to be here.

First to register was Susan, a local psychologist & teacher, shamanic coach, and profound dreamer - a brilliant and accomplished woman with intense life experiences & stories as well as loads of numinous energy. She had read one of Robert Moss' books and initiated contact with me via his website. As a coordinator, it was such a relief to have a name on the list and a check in hand! As a student of life, I was jazzed to have this opportunity to spend a weekend with someone as well-traveled, educated, spiritual and articulate as Susan. Now to find others ...

My sister-in-law, Diane, signed on - I didn't have to guile or guilt her into it or anything! I doubt she'd have taken this workshop if we weren't related, but in a way, it was a blessing to give her the familial excuse to do something her practical side may have dismissed. We adore one another, but are both so busy, we rarely spend chunks of time together outside family events. And here we'd have an entire weekend! ;-)

Now there was a dreampal on the forum who clearly traveled the globe. Her dreams, always colorful and enticing, intrigued me; her waking life made reference to exotic locales and worldly adventures. We had an online chat regarding a dream and inadvertently discovered that she was originally from Ohio. As we clarified further, we were astounded to find that we had grown up in the same community and graduated from the same high school!! She was pumped to learn that Robert Moss would be in her hometown, and, since it was her mother who 1st encouraged her to heed dreams and since  her mother still lives in town, she wrote out a check and gifted her mother the workshop for Mother's Day.

Her mother's name is Mary Faith. Her daughter and I (via brief email exchanges) realize that Mary Faith also graduated from our alma mater, Greenhills-- in the 70's. Hmmm..... well, that's when my husband's older siblings graduated - maybe she knows the Kissels, the Burkets, the Brookbanks?

My query is relayed to Mary Faith and the 1st email I receive from her says that she is eager for the workshop - oh, and she seems to recall a dark-haired girl with a big, friendly smile and laugh -  thinks her name was Diane Kissel?!? She's pretty sure they were in the same class, all through school.

Ummmm..... yeah, that's my sister-in-law! The one who just registered to do this workshop, too. So, tapping into the dreams of a wild young adventuress online leads to reuniting two school-pals-now-grandmothers in one Ohio suburb. Cool. And registration is up to three (plus me).

Once again, upon the forum, I read a dreamer's dream .... In her dream, she traveled  a street - a street I know. What? Here in this online community of faceless people from all over the world, this dreamer is wandering Calhoun Street? - the one where my 1st real boyfriends' college dorm was at UC? The one that I took back home following every obstetrician appointment when I was pregnant? I know this street  -- and it ultimately paved the way to meeting Kathy.

Prior to the Calhoun connection, all I knew of Kathy was that she was a friend of Terron. Terron, I only knew via the dream forum. I knew he carved wooden spoons. I knew he wrote lovely stories. I knew he was kind-hearted and real. And I knew he lived on Cape Breton Island. Imagine my surprise to find that his friend, Kathy, lives near me! With encouragement from both Terron and myself, Kathy made her way to the workshop where she wrote and shared a beautiful memoir of her father.

And there are others (Carol Rose, Karen, Fanchon, Rob, Justin, Heidi & Andy, Nancy, Bonnie, Laura....), and of course, each have their own beautiful, inspiring stories, before, during and post-workshop. What I find remarkable is that not so long ago, I did not know any of the people I write of -- and today, each holds a sacred spot in my heart.