Chicana Dreamer

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.

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