I wasn’t very surprised Easter afternoon when I heard a shout from the big kids who were playing volleyball in the side yard. “Snake! Snake!” Alex hopped through the grass like someone trying not to step on hot coals.
A story in this morning’s Orlando Sentinel was about the new book, “Beneath the Surface,” by John Hargrove. He’s a former senior trainer at SeaWorld’s parks who was interviewed for the documentary “Blackfish” after quitting his job in 2012. Apparently his book is opening old wounds in Orlando.
In my experience, every dream contains information about the dreamer’s unconscious self. Which is exactly why it’s so difficult for us to figure out what our own dreams mean! Moreover, no matter what we may think we may know about someone else, we have no idea what’s going on in their inner universe, and it’s not only inappropriate, but unhelpful to assume we do.
Sir Terry Pratchett, a writer who sold over 85 million books around the world, finally “let go” last Thursday, March 12, 2015. Despite his diagnosis of a rare form of Alzheimer’s eight years ago, he continued to write. According to one article, last summer he completed his 41st novel in the Discworld series in which he collaborated with friend and fellow author, Neil Gaiman.
Today, March 10, 2015, is the fifth anniversary of Matrignosis. For five years my musings have been read by an audience that originally numbered in the tens and is now in the thousands. What a thrilling and richly rewarding ride this has been!
Caught between the naively optimistic post-war spirit that characterized the 40’s and 50’s, and a new generation’s awakening to the intolerable injustices that precipitated the civil rights movement and Viet Nam war protests, I didn’t know where I belonged. As a young wife and mother I sided with my elders and took the easy way of conforming to their conventional wisdom.
Our highest purpose is to grow more conscious and accepting of the benevolent otherness within and without so that we might live in love instead of fear. We can’t will ourselves to love or manufacture consciousness with mental effort alone.
You may have noticed by now that the imaginative and symbolic way I perceive dreams and ordinary life is somewhat different from the way we are normally taught to think in school. I assure you this is not just sloppy thinking, but a conscious choice I’ve made to use more of my brain’s potential.
Last week’s visit from Elaine Mansfield was fun and productive. We talked, walked, ate, laughed, and wrote a proposal for a workshop on loss and grief. And an especially wonderful thing happened.
As you read this, I’m enjoying the company of my friend Elaine Mansfield. Many of you will recognize her name from comments she frequently makes here, or from my Facebook page. She flew down from New York to spend a few days with me before she goes on to Tampa where she’ll be presenting a workshop for a small fraction of the half million women who lose spouses each year. While she’s here, we’re planning a new workshop on grief.
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