Inner changes? I'm feeling depressed, most uncharacteristically, which implies withdrawal of energy, transformation of the depths. What I'm feeling is a strength and a softness coming, these already as I define myself - independent and sensitive - but more so. Whatever anger I once had is long washed away; I am one of those people who loves to laugh. When I took these self-portraits today, I wasn't sure who I was seeing, pensive, yes, but lightness too.
Sunday morning: It's passed, only an evening or so, but uncharacteristic and thus important to pay attention to whatever newness is arising. An older layer of thinking passing away for a newer, fresher, more innocent self to emerge. If that makes sense! I edited the blurb to better reflect the inner process... I like the image of going to the depths to find the light, yes, the shamanic, visionary journey, and each time the depths are different and each time the light is a more complete spectrum of understanding.
There is a negative conventional view of depression. It's not seen as part of a larger process of the psyche in communion with its depths, nor the deep changes that may be occurring because it's seen as a problem, as anger turned in, that needs therapy and/or anti-depressants, and so the whole process of inner discovery is truncated. How can we develop wisdom when we are afraid of our shadows?
The sadness has always been in me, it's there in my photos as a young child, it's still there. Yet I am one of those people who loves to laugh, good deep belly-laughing!
I think I'm moving away from any sense of judgment, of applying systems of thought to people's actions, events, the way things are, that layer of thinking is disappearing, dying, thankfully, most thankfully, and a greater strength and softness is emerging.
The moment of 'depression' has passed and I'm feeling my usual quietly exuberant self today, ready to continue manifesting my dreams.
2 big men both with facial hair, smoking, and the color orange. orange walls, orange carpet and orange stairs, lots and lots of stairs. there is a window and i drift over tp it and look out. we're so high up, i must be in an apartment somewhere. there is an icy stream in a field of snow way down below there. almost dizzy. a noise up the stairs like keys in a lock and a sound like a door swinging open. heavy breathing. both men run down another set of stairs, laughing like children, dragging me behind them like a toy balloon. through another door and out into a long hallway. different doors leading out onto different floors. not an apartment then. don't know what or where. one of the men starts to speak and i wake up. every monday evening i read your blog. every monday night i have the same dream.
ReplyDeleteAnonymous, I don't know you.
ReplyDeleteBut I know this dream; I know this place, the place you describe. I know it well, I've been there.
The orange, the view, the hallways, the doors, it's clear where this is.
The men, however, I don't know. I don't know those men, or perhaps I do.
Or why you are pulled like a balloon.
It seems vaguely threatening, and yet nothing happens. Which is good, which is a relief to me.
Let me soothe you while you sleep. This dream is a doorway in to memories, deeper mysteries.
Let it guide you; let it be your friend.
xo
i, too, embrace my own deep sadness and find solace in those feelings from time to time. they give me permission to "be" at one with the quiet which lives deep inside me, to open myself to whatever feelings might surface, and sometimes to nostalgia for places and times early in my journey to this moment. perhaps this is one reason i love the climate here. the rainy winters encourage these inner travels. they seem to give permission for search and discovery.
ReplyDelete