Dream Symbols: Houses
Throughout the 80’s I had recurring dreams about preparing to move into new houses I didn’t like. Here’s one I had in 1988, three months after I began recording my dreams.
Throughout the 80’s I had recurring dreams about preparing to move into new houses I didn’t like. Here’s one I had in 1988, three months after I began recording my dreams.
I believe these things because I can’t deny the evidence of my eyes or the knowing in my heart. I see now that at the age of 10 I was on the threshold of a spiritual journey which was, indeed, “written in the stars.” I was always meant to take this journey and so were you. This, as author Phil Cousineau calls it in his new book of the same name, is The Oldest Story in the World, the story of the human soul’s evolution into consciousness.
If you’ve never thought of dreams as having any relevance to your waking life, I can assure you, they do. This one which came at a pivotal time in my life convinced me beyond any doubt that some unimaginable Mystery which dwelled both within and outside of me knew what was going on with my puny ego and had something to tell me about it. I’ll share the dream in this post and comment on it in the next.
Last week I wrote about an encounter with a rattlesnake on our forested mountain property. The day before that I found a skeleton of the head of something that looked like a baby alligator. Friends later confirmed that it was another snake. A bigger one. I had my third wild animal encounter in as many days the day after the live rattler appeared. This time it was a very large, very alive black bear!
My friends, I just tried to reblog a post from another website for the first time and thanks to Francesca, a thoughtful reader, disovered that I
I’ve returned to my beloved mountain valley. After five days the stillness is starting to settle in. This morning the eastern sky was red. “Red sky in morning, sailors take warning.” It will probably rain today.The sun is slow to reach the west side of the house. For now the garden is shrouded in shadows and mist.
Then my inner environment underwent a mysterious change. It was very subtle, like a fresh wind carrying strange scents, or a curve in the river that leaves the rushing rapids behind as it empties into a tranquil blue sea. Suddenly there were fewer mountains to climb and more depths to explore.
I’d like to tell you about a particularly potent form of inner work that helped my daughter achieve her career goals. Julie was at Florida State University (Go Noles!) working on her Ph.D. in Marriage and Family Therapy when the time came to write her dissertation. Suddenly, the psychic energy that had served her so well for so long hit a wall.
Last weekend I was telling some house guests about how my golden retriever Bear woke me up at night with his booming bark several times after he died. When I was finished, the husband nodded with solemn knowing and shared his story.
The other day I read an article on the internet about a mostly male mindset called the “culture of honor” which places such a high value on defending one’s reputation that it results in more risk-taking and accidental deaths. Reportedly, this way of thinking is most prevalent in small towns and rural areas of the South and West in such states as South Carolina, Wyoming, and Texas.
Website design and development by Chad Lieberman