Chicana Dreamer

A masculine figure shows up in my dreams from time to time with brilliant spiritual as well as practical suggestions on how to live my life. I first saw him in a dream in 1982, or so. He was somewhere in the universe–not like at a cafe, or a house, or office–just him hovering in space. He wore a beautiful zarape or poncho with geometric lines in blue-gray against a warm beige background. He didn’t say anything. He just threw me a thought form as though playing ball with me, and I caught it in my left hand. He revealed to me a secret of life. More important than anything else, he loves me unconditionally, and as my relationship with him has developed over the years, I’ve come to treasure his presence and the wisdom of his messages. He is the inspiration behind the workshop, Dancing with the Cosmic Lover,” I am presenting with Diana Marto on January 28, 2012. If you will turn to the Events Page for the details, you will see the essence of the topic of discussion and how it applies to developing your intentions for this New Year.

The intent of the workshop is to clarify what individual participants desire, and to plant the suggestion in the unconscious so that it can go about gathering the elements it needs to manifest what’s desired. We’ll create a symbol of the desired intention, and give it power and punch with guided imagery and Reiki healing energy.

The mind does not distinguish between what you think of others from what you think of yourself. In the vast pool of thoughts and feelings, there is only ONE. There is no “I” only, “they,” “them,” “you.” Only ONE, or only “One I.” Therefore, we must take caution in any thoughts we have. Period. Whatever thoughts we have of others, the subconscious takes it literally and thinks you are talking about yourself. It has no sense of humor, either. It takes you seriously on everything you say and think. Trust is very important. For, if we fear something in someone else, we hold the same fear in our body.  Daily practice of Yoga helps in letting go; exercise helps, walking, fresh air, running along the beach. Have a program and work on it every day as part of your spiritual practice.

Spirituality is where Truth Resides. In order to go beyond the mundane, we need a relationship with Spirit, and input from something bigger, beyond our own thinking. Therefore, whatever you learned from your family, take what you like and leave the rest. But, find something that resonates for you about spiritual values and beliefs about Spirit. There is tremendous healing in sharing our thoughts with someone or in a group.

We become what we believe. It takes time, it’s subtle. Our mind is like a garden, if we don’t want to have a tremendous overgrown mess, we must work on it every day. Clear out resentments, fears, rage, chronic negative thought patterns that weaken our resolve toward the things we aspire, such as being a source for healing in the community, family, work place. This requires belief in the unity of the Universe; Doing a Creative Expression that requires concentration and daily practice is also very helpful, art, music, dance; Spiritual Direction-trust in at least one other person who can help us hold to our values and Integrity; Psychotherapy can help us develop the willingness to look at our weaknesses and become the person we’d like to be; Trust is a vital component in Spirituality–the willingness at least.

Creative Expression. This is what people see and form beliefs about you. Create a platform and develop your Sacred Gifts on which you can stand and share with the world.

Career: Licenses, Certificates, Associations matter. Be congruent with your values. Don’t worry about competition. But, stand firm on what you have to offer.

Love: We need to be surrounded by people who love and trust us and who we love and trust. Today, this moment, it begins with Self Love. If we can have patience and tenderness toward those little annoying nit-picking thoughts that plague us throughout the day, then we can extend love to those that depend on us for steady support and encouragement.

It’s best to do this in a committed, open group.

These are precepts I have come to believe in matter in life. I haven’t lived them in a straight line. I’ve made tons of mistakes, of course. I’ve gathered these beliefs and values over the years from studying and reading about religions around the world and my Mexican culture. They have been tried and trusted ingredients throughout the ages.

As you think of your goals, wants, and needs list for 2012, remember that we can always tell Spirit what we would like, we can clear out the debris that stands in the way of attaining our goals, and wait for the results from Spirit. Visit the events page and call me to reserve a spot for you. Space is somewhat limited. I know there’s a lot of money laying around the house after the Holidays . Invest in yourself–you deserve it, and you are worth it. Let’s have fun, and play with serious matters.

Above the Abyss

Let’s continue to plummet to the depths, where we make conscious decisions and fly in the face of beauty without regard to danger or annihilation. This week, continuing our discussion of the Meeting the Feminine Within Dream Circle, we’re examining the work of Artist Gary Politzer, who blogs at Dream Departure. Gary has been keeping a dream journal for over forty years. As an artist, he has the distinction of being able to visually represent what he sees in his nightly adventures into the Unknown, and his dreams are rich in pictorial imagery. Gary designed and developed the Chicana Dreamer website and has been webmaster since the beginning in 2001. Gary’s website, also designed by him, has a dreamy quality to the background in which he presents his dreams. You can visit his website to have the added perspective of his work.

In the previous post discussion centered on Diana Marto’s dream Ashaia Speaks that wove in and out of her creative life over the years. This week, we examine a theme that resounds throughout Gary’s dreamscape. An aspect that strikes me about Gary’s spiritual/dream life is that of “being carried.” I’m referring to his blog entries for Hanging Crow (January, 2009), An Heroic Rescue (September, 2009), and I Will Carry You (June, 2010). This discussion addresses the theme of being guided compassionately in our dreams.

Hanging Crow

I’ll begin with Gary’s dream Hanging Crow, (January 25, 2009). The entry refers to a dream of November, 1996, during a time when his father was in the early stages of transitioning from this life to the next. During this time, Father and Son were finally becoming true friends, and Gary was on the brink of the deepest depression of his life. Gary shows a sketch of a dog carrying a crow hanging from a hook. It’s very easy to get lost in imagery, so I will just adhere to the “concrete” image Dog carrying Crow on a hook. In the Dream Circle, we would talk about the symbolism of Dog who carries the hook and Crow, Crow, and the hook. In Native traditions, our four-legged relatives play a vital role in our spiritual lives, and in our dreams, we witness them as aspects of the Creator.

An Heroic Rescue

The second image of Gary’s “being carried,” is seen in the dream An Heroic Rescue, (September 28, 2009) which surfaces in the king’s delicate descent into the abyss in his hazardous rescue of the Feminine. Even Gary is uncertain of the origins of the carrier of the box going into danger. But, there is something that is carrying the king in this treacherous mission. He succeeds, lives to tell the saga of the great rescue, and celebrates his success. This dream is rich with imagery of a greater consciousness in operation.

The third example of the theme shows up in the spontaneous vision Gary has the following morning after a late-night Photoshop session on the Eagle (I Will Carry You, June 30, 2010). While driving through the green hills of Marin County on his way to Petaluma. Gary finds himself on the Eagle’s shoulder.
The Eagle looks Gary in the eye and tells him, “Don’t be afraid. I will carry you across the abyss.” In Native Dream Traditions, the Eagle can grant Gifts of Power to the seeker. I also see this as a promise of protection and and guidance. The message is very direct and to the point: “I will carry you across the abyss.”

The appearance of this theme has at least a fifteen year span. In the depths of his being, there is a Power that has been showing Gary the way, guiding, prompting, encouraging and supporting. I don’t dare begin speculating what the internal work has been for Gary, but he has managed to clear out emotional and psychological debris that has resulted in his being able to gather his resources, restructure his view of life, recommit to his art and return to life a new man in mind, body, and spirit. Naturally, the “voice” or “carrier,” continues to bring him closer to his destiny. Imagine the power offered by this depth of experience. He’s ready to bring his deepest messages from the soul for everyone to witness and be witnessed by.

Navigating the depths is no easy feat, but one can do it in the company of others on this vast and heroic journey called Life. Slowly and cautiously, we accept that we have been privy to the secrets of the Universe and quietly bless the world with our Sacred Gifts. In our Meeting the Feminine Within Dream Circle, we seek Freedom.

In last week’s post, I committed to continue the discussion on how Dream Awareness helps us garner power and clarity for our creative and spiritual aspirations, which we will be examining in the new series of Meeting the Feminine which begins on September 9, 2011. This article features one dream Artist Diana Marto had in 1986, which serves as a beautiful example of the way dreams can weave in and out of consciousness over time, while subtly impacting our lives and creativity.

Ashaia Speaks Dream: I am walking through an airport with a roll of paper on my shoulder.–

As we worked through this dream a couple of days later, Diana and I sat in my apartment at the corner of California and Laguna in San Francisco facing each other sitting on the tan suede sectional. I asked her, “What does the roll of paper feel like?” Sometimes we just have short snippets of a dream to work with, but that can be enough. She went back in time and thought about the work she had begun in 1981.

For this article, I spoke with Diana by telephone to refresh our memories, and she gave more background about her life related to the dream: “In 1981, I was traveling between Hong Kong, Kyoto, and San Francisco, when my work with paper was just beginning.” She said. “At the time I was living in Japan, and was greatly influenced by the culture, particularly, Shinto Ceremonies I’d seen in mountainside villages above Kyoto.”

Upheaval, End Game

“The actual roll of paper was literally eight feet high, a powerful symbol in my hands. I created performances unraveling huge rolls of paper. “Be the Bird that Soars in Your Dreams, is my first Canto in the epic ‘Spirit Plays with Paper and Dance,’ which I performed in Kyoto, Hong Kong, Big Sur, and Duxbury Beach in Massachusetts.

“In Hong Kong on a mountainside I danced all over the paper, which then took on the impressions of the early morning dew of wild flowers, soft pinks, yellows, and pale grasses before the rainy season arrived. It looked like a Chinese landscape brush painting.” Later works of papermaking show the influence of these impressions.

“I would make immense sculptural shapes like magical birds which I arranged in gardens. I then became part of the garden dancing in light white silk fabrics that gracefully waved in the breeze, caressing the sculptures. In one performance piece, I carried a huge piece of paper that the wind ripped, which then came to symbolize the wing of the ‘Soaring Bird.’

“The roll of paper in the 1986 dream conveyed a vibrant message about continuation, and hope. At the time, I had just moved back to the Bay Area. My husband John had died of Lou Gehrig’s disease. My life was in ashes, but this dream brought a new light to my work and my life. I felt an acknowledgment and affirmation of my art. I felt that it was telling me, ‘Don’t give up; Don’t stop.’”

Diana took the dream to heart. Since the first Canto, She has presented sacred ceremonies in Capetown, Catal Hoyuck, Turkey, a neolithic archeological site where the Mother Goddess was worshipped, and locations in the United States. Now, some twenty-five years later, she has completed Canto XXI.

“Today, when I begin new projects or prepare for performances, the message still lingers and the Spirit World continues to whisper to me, supporting, and enlivening my creative expressions. Not having children, the dream has helped me stave off mortality and find a way to be remembered. Over the years, the dream has woven in and out of my awareness assuring me I’m on the right path; that I’m not just a consumer, but that I am giving back to life; it has given me a gift to leave future generations, an important way to contribute to human awareness.”

The image of Diana’s walking through an airport with a roll of paper could easily have been overlooked. At the time, she thought it was simply a replay of her life before her husband passed on. But, as time has shown, with the attention she paid to the dream, it continues to guide her art, providing a container of safety for her life–I’d say this dream was a life saver for her.

Diana’s Dream is an exquisite example of how we will examine our dreams in our upcoming Dream Circle. It doesn’t have to be a Big Dream; it may be, on further examination, but what’s important is to examine these images and glean from them the subtle or quiet promptings from within. We are all artists of our life, and we all dream. We bring the dream out from behind the curtain, and the Feminine does the rest.

Taking an idea from a dreamer’s dream is called “extraction” and planting the seed is called “inception.” Where does this idea come from, I critically asked myself, as I watched the film I had so arduously avoided all these months. I didn’t like that the movie was billed with so many guns in sight, explosions, broken faces, etc. It’s not that I’m above violence myself, but that it gets into my nervous system like angel hair. But, this past weekend, my time was up, and I sat through it–not once, but twice. Though, the second time I fast forwarded through the violence, and savored the instruction and planning for the inception. Here’s what I liked about the film. I won’t give away the plot, and I’ll try to not over-explain myself, given that I’m not a movie critic anyway.

The first theme that comes to mind is the potential for getting lost in time and space. Di Caprio carried a totem to check his reality. He’d set it a spin, if it didn’t stop, he knew he was dreaming. Being the master of dreamers, he’d remember to pose the question. This group of dreamers could put each other to sleep in the middle of a sentence and finish the thought in another dimension. Checking for reality was crucial. And so it is for us who are trying to awaken. For one thing, you need a very strong desire to remember to even remotely question yourself. But they did it, and came back with full memory of the dream.

More frequently than not, I go into a dream and fail to challenge myself to even bring my hand up to my face to remind myself that I’m in another dimension. What my practice of dreaming has provided for me, however, is the realization that life itself is fragile, and suffering abounds. Luckily, each moment, waking or dreaming, we have the opportunity to choose a new alternative; a new place initiated by a brand new thought. Usually, we have our constructs, the props of our lives in place. We’re also very protective of keeping our mental environment exactly the way that keeps us just slightly tilted and in subtle chaos. Not too much–just enough to make us think that we’ve come up with a new idea and that things are changing. All the while, there is a place, deep underground, below the basement, where we come back to time and time again just to make sure no one has touched or moved anything. Where we keep the people we love and adore suspended in time and space with a single idea that serves to keeping in tact what we believe makes our world safe.

We keep these constructs as our little totems to assure ourselves that yes, indeed, my life is going as it should. Fortunately, we don’t have to live the perfect spiritual life, as long as we keep asking for the Truth. The dream “Going to Tlalocan” in my book, Corn Woman Sings suggests the identical point by the Ancestors “Know which god you are serving, and which world you are in. Click here for the Dream.

What I liked most about “Inception” is that it actually embeds the thought that makes one wonder, where is reality? Have I gotten stuck somewhere thinking I’m awake? In the end, the old man is simply what the Asian entrepreneur has become in his quest for power. The gift for us is that we, the viewers of the film, have actually fallen “victims” to the shape shifter/dreamer and must now live with the challenge burning within ourselves, “Know which god you are serving, and which world you are in.” It’s official: It’s time to wake up. Now.

Sweet Dreams, write when you can.
Ellie

For a few hours a day, I get to spend my time with children with disabilities. During that time the day revolves around their schedules in school, science, math, P.E., etc. Simultaneously, there is the element of assisting the children complete their tasks and interact with others appropriately. The adults in charge expend most of their energy guiding the children through the process of learning how to conduct their days in the various situations and get along with other children. However, as easy as this may sound, there is a fine art to getting children to do what is expected of them and still enable them to glean from the experience the lesson that’s presented. Bringing a child to understanding is a very slow process because they have their own ideas–their own paradigm for looking at the world.

When it comes to dreaming and the Old Paradigm, there isn’t much difference between the adults and the children. It’s hard to let go of preconceived notions about reality.

So, what is self-will? In a child self-will is sometimes tolerable to adults. A child needs to learn to share, get along with others, and to listen. But, as I look around the adults, they’re still saying, “This is mine. This is mine, and this is mine.” They often don’t know how to step back and observe. They don’t often share. And, very frequently, they have to win.

What is surrender? Usually, life itself teaches us how to surrender. Losing a loved one takes away the other half of the clapping hand. There’s nothing there to lean on. Careers have been wonderful teachers lately. We lose a job, and suddenly we are stripped of title and buying power, and, occasionally, even shelter. In that void, we free-fall, and, hopefully, call out for The Mother, The Father. Here enters Duality and Surrender/Transcendence.

12-23-10 – Dream

I’m at a park/like community, and I decide that we will have a potluck dinner. People immediately begin to arrive with an abundance of food. I’ve reserved a bar-b-q pit for the occasion, and there are men standing around the pit cooking the meat. A woman is demonstrating how she will display the dish she has brought, and she’s like a Martha Stewart moving her hands over the top of her casserole. Automatically, the arrangement of the casserole changes and looks very attractive with ripples of cream in the bowl. She repeats the motion of her hands and again, the food is neatly arranged in the bowl. It looks so easy, but is it?

A woman arrives with a pile of blankets for people to sit on the floor. There seems to be so much ease in meeting the needs of the guests. I see a woman leaving with blankets and sleeping bags, and I ask her if they are hers. I see she’s Asian or Hawaiian, and immediately, I decide that it’s inappropriate of me to be asking such a question. I let her know she needs not answer and that I don’t need to know. I am amazed at how quickly and easily the gathering came together. The abundance was just astonishing.

Notes:

Everything seemed so easy in the dream. Food appeared effortlessly, blankets, comfort appeared out of nowhere. So, if I translate the “east” into my waking state, It’s the ease in which I am playing the piano, and trust that my fingers will automatically go where they need to go. Let go and move on.

The same is true with my writing. It seems to me we need truth in the material plane as well as the spiritual. Judging by the program When Worlds Collide, mentioned in my last entry (Who’s In Charge?) we need to know the truth in all worlds. Know which world you are in. What your beliefs are, and what you are willing to rely on. The Ancient Ones were right on target. Keep digging into your dreams to find the truth. Remember who you are and live from those memories of the culture. Truth lives in the stories you’ve heard from the Ancient Ones. The Old, Old Creation Stories La Virgen, Quetzalcoatl, She Who Made the Stars. Look for Magic; Look for Light; Listen for Music in your dreams and Dance. Truth is hidden in the spaces of breath, silence and beauty. It yearns to be in relationship with You.

Sweet Dreams,
Ellie

From my dream journals

12-14-10 – Dream
I’m staying at a house like a dormitory and there is a playful atmosphere, though we are taking care of serious matters in our lives. I find myself at the top of a ladder unable to get myself down. I’m frightened, I’m high off the ground. I see a friend, a white man, who reaches up to me to kiss me, and I tell him to help me down. “Will you wait until I make it down?” I ask him. He nods happily, slowly and carefully letting the ladder tip forward and holds on to me until I reach bottom.

Notes:
I’ve been looking for information on the Anasazi and looking at pictures of their kivas. There was one picture that shows the roof of a kiva with two holes and two ladders for getting down into it.

12-16-10 – Notes:
I’m stunned at the realization that the Anasazi are amongst us. I remember hearing about them in the 60’s in an anthropology class I took at City College. It was a ho-hum class for me then. Cliff Dwellers- as though they had clawed their way into the mountainside and were a primitive people.

Through the internet, I’m finding that they thrived for a millennium, built complex cities with running water, cultural centers for worship, building complexes of 200-700 rooms, farming communities, and a highway network that connected over 1000 cities throughout the Southwest. These cities were planned and then built over several centuries. How they managed to do the planning and then carry it out over the generations is an interesting question to pause on. But I imagine it was like everything else in oral culture, passed to the next generation precisely as it was received. Of course, then there was no “Southwest,” but there have been some connections found in the linguistic patterns of the Nahua (Aztecs) amongst the Navaho, Pueblo and other descendants of the Bird People as the Anasazi were called.

In an early dream I had where I am learning to fly, my father pushes me off the top of a ladder and I sail into the air, freeze into the pose of a dead horse, and am rescued by a gentle Native American man who flies up from ground level. Then, there are these visits with the Elders in kivas.

It is because of my connection to the Elders in my dreams that I have my first book. It was they who rattled my memory and helped me put the story together. Now, they are telling me to write about the Aztec migration from somewhere “en el norte” to the Valley of Anahuac, and it’s interesting how that story is unfolding.

The reason the Anasazi are important and finding the connection between the linguistic patterns of the Aztec and the cultures of the North American Southwest, is that identity plays into this. Our identity tells us who we are, where we come from, who our people are. For people who have been colonized and then brainwashed against the very blood that flows through them, it’s important to question and challenge the assumptions of what’s been passed on. More on identity later.

Chew on identity and what it tells you about who you are.
Sweet dreams,
Ellie

I often wonder where my dreams go when I’m going through my daily life, but maybe that question isn’t as important as just remembering that they are there. in Thinking about creativity, time and space, I’m offering the following dream as a springboard for you to think about messages you have received, and what you do with them. As the Ancient Ones believed, time is NOW. So, if we believe that our past (from birth in this life time to now, determines who we are, this belief will limit us. BUT, if we take on the cloak of our dreams, why not become that which more accurately represents who we truly are and be a new person each new day?

Call from the Elders Dream:

“River water is cold in the springtime after the snow melts. This first day of warm sun after the winter blistery days that the sun is hidden behind the clouds, we’ve come to bathe and wash our hair. My sisters, entering the water timidly scream with glee when they take that first plunge. They taunt me, their eldest, to come in, and threaten to pull me in if I take much longer. I submerge myself in the freezing temperature, and they laughingly splash at me when I emerge. My younger sister sneaks up behind me and adds mayhem to the spring ritual of our first dip. I chase her and keep splashing her as she tries to get away from me. Soon, all of us are shouting and playing in the water that the sun has miraculously heated.
“I hear my brother’s voice calling my name. I know he wouldn’t be there unless there was good reason because this part of the river is off limits to the men. Besides, he is a warrior and hunter and should be away hunting. Hearing his voice so far from the village adds to the urgency. Others look up to see if I’ve heard his call “Something is happening in the village,” one says to me, “Should I come with you?” “No, no. I’ll be back soon.” I respond.
“Sorry to miss the frolicking, I quickly dry myself off with a thin deerskin and wrap myself in a soft dark brown buffalo-looking garment with holes for my arms. I put on my foot coverings that come up to my knees. The ground is still frozen, and I can feel its sharpness as I run up the path, jumping over patches of snow and mud.
“I’ve been called to the meeting room underground where the elders are gathered. My moon time finished many days ago. The kiva is for men only. I have a queasy feeling in my stomach as I step down the ladder quietly, trembling to be called by the elders. The light from a small fire reflects on their faces, and I sense a tension in the air.
“When I reach bottom, I hear the sharp crack of a drum as though announcing my arrival. It’s a loud, crisp whack from the spirit world, for I realize there are no drums or drummers present.
“And, there’s more power where that comes from,” one of the men mentions to the others. Looking directly at me, he adds, “Remember.” That’s all he says, “Remember,” as though I have consented to a previous agreement. The elders nod their heads in unison.”

This is an old dream, from the late ’70′s. My notes continued:

“The slam of a door caused by a breeze in the hallway of my apartment awakes me. I’m instantly aware of the light coming through the windows that run across my sunroom/studio. The sun is bright. It must be late in the morning, and I should have been up hours ago. I’m too groggy, and left with questions and vague feelings of having forgotten enormous chunks of my life. It’s not exactly as though I’ve actually forgotten, though. Certainly, parts I would like to overlook, but definitely there are blanks that need filling in; something I should know. Who are these elders? I know them, but they’re certainly not part of my waking community today. What am I supposed to “remember?”

Ok, so I’m cheating a little with 40 years ahead of most of you. But this is how I work with dreams today: In writing my second book, I’m putting together the concepts of time and space being right now. So, I try to practice what I preach. I went back to that dream and put myself back into it, exploring the environment, listening for sounds, feelings, sensations; and that’s when I came up with the scene at the river with my sisters.

With time being NOW, I can become that person. I see her as someone appointed by the Elders to reconstruct what has slipped through the cracks of our consciousness; traditions? dreams? values? The person who I think I am, based on my past and repetition of experiences, has doubts and fears, but with internal work with community, counselors, spiritual guides, I’ve been working through the facade. When I realized I had a mission, my passion was set afire, and that’s been the guiding light for my life. I’ve been learning that “Power” is simply having the willingness to take tiny steps at a time and do what may seem impossible at first sight.

It’s very liberating.
Blessings, El

It’s early in the morning, and I’ve awakened with a quiet feeling of peace–aleluya, hermana/o–. I attribute this peace to the fact that I’ve returned to my first love, the piano. I’m not working with a teacher yet, but I’m just practicing to pick up speed and let me fingers unthaw after the long silence. It took time, but something in the following entry put together over the summer into my journal opened my eyes to an unsatisfied longing in my heart. It begins with a poem:

“‘Dime La Verdad, Mamá.
Tell Me the Truth

‘Dime la verdad, Mamá. Tell me that you have always loved me. Tell me that your dreams for me extended beyond the river, the mountains, the horizon, the Sun and the stars; that you dreamed for me guidance by flames of alter candles, prayers, and gentle words; that open arms awaited you from your first breath and were then your legacy to me.

‘Tell me that before you were born, your great grandmother had a place set for her at the dinner table, that she was surrounded by lovely flowers and was given the spiritual truths from her grandmothers, and the heartstrings continued forever forward.

‘Tell me that as far back to the beginning of time, you and your grandmothers lives were filled with music, incantations for joy, and love; that the sweet sound of melodic voices singing in celebration awoke you at their births; and that you danced in bright colored costumes with silver and gold chimes, where your dresses flowed gracefully in rhythm to horns, guitars, gourds, rattles, and drums.

‘My dreams tell me I am a stranger at dinner tables where I am hungry, invisible; where I take small morsels, and say little; a shadow that slips through doors unseen; where only at night I dare to speak my thoughts and dance alone under the dark moon.

‘Tell me I was never shipped to places unknown, beyond the warmth of my family, where voices cracked through stunned silence as muffled noises that awakened espiritus malos bad spirits.

‘Tell me I was never scorned; never seen as the wretched forgotten child of a family, la rechazada, who hid behind tattered curtains, denying lies she heard about a bewildered little stranger, her soul longing for comfort, and respite.

Tell me this is someone else’s nightmare; that my life began filled with music, incantations for joy and love; that the sweet sound of melodic voices singing in celebration awoke me at my birth; and that I danced in bright colored costumes with silver and gold chimes that flowed gracefully in rhythm to horns, guitars, gourds, rattles, and drums.’

“As I write this poem, my sadness stems from not having personal experience with cultural traditions that were available generations past, before Mamá as a governess set sail with an American family for the United States, via South America. To my mind, something in her heart shut down then, in 1920, which altered family ties beyond her time. When I think of my mother’s life, I imagine her as a sixteen year packing her suitcase, and not looking back for many years until she could begin to fathom all she’d lost in leaving her pueblo of Rayon, in Southeastern Mexico. With letters from home in hand, I’d observe her sitting quietly at the top of our back door steps looking into an empty lot overgrown with dry weeds. Sighing pensively, she’d return to her chores with an air of resignation.

“In some way, I carry her unspoken sadness, and long to recreate at least a small fragment of the spiritual truths she left behind. I often feel that I am living out a part of her appointment with destiny.

“Papá was born in Cananea, Sonora, in 1900, fifty years after El Norte was lopped off from Mexico. From his accounts, it seems to me that in the hearts of the people at that time El Rio Bravo still roared its usual song and remained a channel that carried the old ways. In 1918, he arrived in Los Angeles with his guitar and mandolin; they were his love, and his passion. It’s as though he carried his destiny firmly in hand, and whatever twists fate had in store for him, he was prepared to face them.

“I now often wonder if it was my destiny to have this bittersweet, indefinable ache that relentlessly pushes me to scrap together what was “lost,” in my parents’ move North. Before poverty turned our family upside down, and I was sent away to other families while Mamá’s worked in a bracero camp, her dream for me was that people could say “Que bonito Noni toca el piano.” How beautifully Noni plays the piano. As I came into my teens, it was enough for me to know this was what she wanted, to make me fly in the opposite direction. And that was how I missed out on the best of my childhood years; because I felt rejected, I then rejected everything I loved. I do wonder if life would have been sweeter and more accommodating had I bowed to the call of the piano that I loved so much. (my emphasis).”

It is “bowing” to this call that brings me so much joy. I wonder if there is a secret place in your heart that needs to be honored? Today’s the Virgen de Guadalupe’s birthday, another reason to honor what’s in your heart. It does bring peace

Blessings,
Ellie

I’ve been off air for a while; taking a writing class and grieving the death of a close friend. Having the blog makes me conscious of where I put my time and what I consider important. In the meantime my friend from Dream Departure set up the video on the home page of Chicana Dreamer. Click on this entry to view Dreams, Sacred Gifts and Artists as Mystics.

I’ve yet to meet someone who has not dealt with duality–that precious gift of opposites and contradictions we face in life. What we believe about our past defines who we think we are, and thus begins the dance with Duality. But hold on, there’s more: Shape Shifting is an option.

Granted, once we begin to work with consciousness, we are apt to find thoughts, feelings, fear, and other such emotions amplified. But the point is to remember that nothing is ever fixed–everything, and I do mean, everything–is always in a state of flux. In my dream circles students begin by thinking a current situation is fixed. It’s as though we must go to the edge of our reality and step off the precipice before we can see that, in fact, nothing is written across the sky forever. A student identified a mattress he carried on board a dream airplane as his ego. In class he dealt with a futon, clumsy, cumbersome, unwieldy, and became frustrated. The lightheartedness in the group helped him consider the possibility that discarding the “mattress” might be a viable possibility. The idea didn’t come easily because in the waking state it is difficult to let go of feelings that protect us–self-righteousness, indignation must be protected or we think we’ve lost a battle.

Traditionally, shape shifting in the early Native cultures was considered being able to change oneself to another species, from human to owl or other form. I’ve heard from reliable sources that there are still some who can change themselves into something other than human, but generaly the consciousness has changed and we no longer “believe” in such phenomenon–for waking time, that is. The scientific mind is too strong now, but, even so, there are other ways that we can practice amazing shape shifts. In Corn Woman Sings: A Medicine Woman’s Dream Map I discuss this in greater detail. Here, I am referring to awareness in our dreams and waking that enables us to transcend the accepted norm and delve into consciousness as it is believed in the Western World.

Shape Shifting is a state of being wherein we, in essence, step lightly from rainbow to rainbow and travel easily and effortlessly through thoughts that could make us earthbound. We can let go of beliefs that bind us to the heavy and dense world; yet, shape shifting in our dreams is no easy feat. Dreams being the seat of reality, we shape shift there first, and bring the consciousness with us to apply to the waking world.

We could elect to see shape shifting as a test, like the student with the mattress, and be willing to travel through life lightly. Life is a dream, be willing to err on the side of compassion for yourself and others; let go for an instant of your tight grip on an idea and change right before people’s eyes. In my book, that’s real shape shifting. No medicines, no mind altering is necessary; just an instantaneous decision to let go of right and wrong in both the dreaming and the waking time.

Happy Trails,
EBD