Musings.12: Barbara

By now I should be accustomed to this chaos, plan for it even, since John Lennon 'got it' so well: "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans." Suffice it to say I am very happy to be here again, at last.

I am also rather happy, if also surprised, to see that one of my dreams has shown up in 'Melissa's' dreaming life. Ironically, given that 'Melissa's' father owns an entertainment conglomerate which includes a circus and carnival division, I see how tigers and elephants would be relevant in her dreaming and waking life, but I am quite puzzled about their relevance in either my dreams or my daily life.

These magnificent animals came to me in a dream in April 2008, months before I even conceived the notion of blogging. I was inspired to use the dream for 'Melissa,' although I was not certain why, and reported it almost verbatim. One of the changes I made was to describe the big cats in her dream as tigers, whereas in my dream they were jaguars.

One of the first things I do with an intriguing dream such as this is to research any out-of-the-ordinary details like jaguars in flimsy bamboo

cages and elephants carrying Hot Pockets to feed said jaguars. By and large I am still waiting to see what message those animals were intent on delivering. I discovered with some pleasure that in Mesoamerica jaguars, often called 'tigres,' were revered as manifestations of the goddess and appreciated for their strength, beauty, grace, and ability to function on land and in the water. They are the only big cats who swim willingly and by choice.

So, in one night's dreaming two of these magnificent cats confined themselves in flimsy cages and waited on my deck, quietly and patiently. So, I will wait, quietly and patiently also, to see what message they may bear.

What am I to make of the elephants ceremoniously bearing Hot Pockets as food for the jaguars? The notion of elephants happily bringing food to the jaguars puzzles me because big cats prey upon elephants. I am puzzled further by the diminutive size of the elephants - why so small? The Hot Pockets must be meant solely to symbolize some form of nutrition for the cats, but what? Why bring them processed people food? (Do not get me started about processed foods!)

There may be a message to me in the appearance of the elephants, but what exactly? To begin with I always associate elephants with the Hindu Lord Ganesh, Destroyer of Obstacles. Given that, it is most interesting that when I ask the jaguars (goddesses) if they are hungry two (young?) Destroyers of Obstacles happily arrive with people food for them. That may inform my understanding of their 'mission' to the jaguars, but is there some other message for me?

What obstacles face the jaguars? I freed them from their cages, so I doubt that those are obstacles. It is interesting that they waited to be freed, rather than just tearing apart the cages.

As a final interesting note I will share something that happened the day after I posted that dream as 'Melissa's.' My husband and I were driving north to visit some Etowah Indian burial mounds. We both exclaimed when a beautiful, elegant silver convertible glided past on our port side, top down open to the sunshine. Then another, similar convertible passed us on our starboard side.

I was stunned to realize that two Jaguars were literally 'purring' down the highway with us! I've seen many, many Porsches, BMWs, Mercedes, Lexus vehicles here in the Atlanta-metro area, but until then no Jaguars of note. Now I see them just about everywhere - and I smile!

[Photos: Top - our cat, Mardi, June 2006; Bottom - the Ringling Bros. - Barnum and Bailey Circus, Atlanta, February 2009.]

Cats: "Melissa"

ats - big, huge cats, and the little black cat from my previous dreams, were in my dream last night. Baby elephants made an appearance as well.

The little black cat was with me in the building at St. Clair Shores and she was pacing between me and the door in the kitchen leading out to a deck. Back and forth she paced tail held high, a little curl in it at the tip, purring quite loudly. So, I let her out onto the deck.

I froze, however, when I realized there were two tigers in two cages made of bamboo, stacked one atop the other, in a corner of the deck. I tried to maintain my presence of mind because I knew I was dreaming, but I had absolutely no idea what was going to happen. All I knew was that the little black cat was but a morsel compared to those two caged tigers.

I know there were two tigers, but the one in the top cage seemed to be the alpha cat (if there is such a hierarchy) and it seemed to be very controlled, very focused. Here's the thing - and I am still stunned that I did this - I released those tigers from their cages!

I didn't feel I was being stalked or threatened. I felt there was a tremendous intelligence in that alpha tiger, an intellectual strength that at least matched if not surpassed its physical strength. I felt as if I was being noted and measured, weighed, but this did not feel unkind or menacing.

Then I asked the tigers if they were hungry, and I may have made a gesture towards the lawn because the next thing I knew I was standing on the lawn with those tigers and my cat as two very small elephants - babies? - approached, their trunks up-curled ceremoniously, bringing Hot Pockets, of all things!

Musings.11: Barbara

had no intention of 'working' at all, beyond taking photos when an opportunity might arise.

This was to be a getaway weekend for myself and my husband to celebrate our anniversary (#28) and I even chose to forgo organizing my notes and my calendar as I usually do on road trips lasting more than a couple of hours. This was to be just him and me, so imagine my surprise when the latest dreams of 'Melissa,' the character I am developing on this blog, popped up in MY flesh and blood life.

It still amazes me even now, almost a week after I saw it and photographed it through the windshield!

These latest dreams of hers with their emphasis on a place named 'St. Clair Shores,' puzzled me enough that I did not know what to say about them. Truthfully, I am still curious to see how this newest location will fit into 'Melissa's' story, especially now that I found a place named 'St. Clair' on an island off the shore, so to speak, of Georgia - St. Simon's Island, to be exact. (The island played host to the 2008 G-8 Summit.)

Earlier in the day I had found a fool in his cap painted on the window of a toy shop on Mallery St. and felt it would fit into a post about 'Melissa's' exploration of the place. I figured I was pretty lucky to happen across an image of a fool out in the big wide world. I was completely taken by surprise when we drove past a development bearing the name 'St. Clair!'

It presages some sort of 'development' in 'Melissa's' story I am sure, but I am especially intrigued to see what develops because of this in MY waking life. 'Melissa's' dreams manifesting in my physical life - maybe Oscar Wilde was right about life imitating art? I'm certainly going to keep watching to see what develops!

Paradise: "Melissa"

aradise - paradise - it's been on my mind since last night's dream. I decided to check out this "St. Clair Shores," see what it's about because it is in such a different neighborhood than the warehouse, or the mountainside tea party with goddesses - although I do remember a bit of a dream in which I stood out of the rain under a magnolia tree for want of an umbrella. Anyway ...

The building was virtually empty but for one room, an office at the back next to the kitchen. The place had a 1950's air about it and the owners, I think, could probably renovate it quite easily and find a sizable clientele if they wanted.

I headed toward the office, but stopped short as I passed the fridge. A pamphlet caught my eye because it looked to be of the same vintage as the building - but I was in it, looking just as I do now! The pamphlet was an advert for some sort of cruise in "The Big Yellow Taxi," and there I was sitting on a seat in the stern of this big yellow boat, being soundly kissed by the man whose bloody footsteps I'd followed to the warehouse from the watchtower. (I could never forget those shoulders or that dark, dark hair!)

Now that I think about it, I also saw the Faerie Queen and her King in that picture. They looked like the photographer caught them just before a kiss. Uncle Joe was there in that amazing DREAM hat, kissing his Bride. The little girl from so many other dreams was there, too. I decided to keep the pamphlet to study later and continued on into the office.

I remember there being walls of built-in shelves and walls of mullioned windows. I remember seeing a fool's cap on one of the shelves. The desk was big and old and gorgeous; an antique already in the 1950's, its finish had been lovingly maintained and looked like ebony satin. Just as I noted a book lying open atop the desk, the antique dial phone rang and, I admit it, I screeched and jumped!

I figured that since this was not my place I should not answer the phone, but then again the pamphlet made me think that I was supposed to be there and thus supposed to answer. I reached for the receiver - and stopped. The phone was connected to an answering machine, so I decided to exercise caution and screen the call. So glad I did because it was my father!

"This is Charles Barker, Melissa. Your father. It seems you've forgotten that. You need some serious discipline, girl. You can defy me all you want, but you can never deny me. You are a Barker. Act like one. You will do as I say or I will cut you off." The click when he hung up was deafening.

Somehow, thankfully, I remembered I could interact with the dream so I told myself, "Just breathe. Breathe. The answer will come to you." Slowly I looked around the room, then back down at the book on the desk. I could see that there was text on both pages, but I could only read one highlighted section on page 259 - '...the message was: "Don't grow, and whatever you do, don't abandon people to pursue your dream."'

"Wow," I thought, "enough said." I looked at the front of the book for the author and title: Julia Cameron, "The Vein of Gold - A Journey to Your Creative Heart."

Before I could form another thought my Crow flew in and perched on my shoulder to give me his characteristic greeting and comb his beak through my hair. He held something shiny in one of his claws and relinquished it with a gurgle of pleasure when I held up my hand - an iPod. This being a dream there was, of course, an iHome on a shelf near the desk. I can take a hint.

After that message from good ole dad I never expected to laugh and dance and feel out-loud happy quite so soon, but when the Counting Crows song began and my Crow moved to the beat as if he thought he had become a bird-of-paradise bent on courting his lady, I could do nothing but join him.

So, I am quite curious just how the Dreaming Universe will show me how to combine the pursuit of my dream with "The Big Yellow Taxi," all those wonderful people on the taxi, AND the Stranger kissing me. Oh, and yes, my Crow.

St. Clair Shores: "Melissa"

asmine scents the breeze caressing me as I write in the quiet before dawn. After quite a long spell the dreams returned last night and I am very happy; things often sort themselves out better than I can imagine when I remember and listen to the dreams, to the dreaming.

This dream was another set at night. The moon shone in a sky of deep crystalline blue, its reflection glittering on the body of water at my feet and the moist sand along the shore. I looked to my right and to my left for some sort of marker to help me identify my surroundings. In the distance off to my right I saw a building - a cabin? a lodge? - with a sign, so I walked toward that.

The sign simply read 'St. Clair Shores.' Some sort of device had been painted in the middle, but the paint had worn off so the image was unrecognizable. While I stood there wondering what 'St. Clair Shores' could mean I noticed clumps of trash strewn on the sand and afloat on the water. I looked around for a stick or a pole, something to scoop the junk out of the water and up off of the beach, intending to place the trash in some waste bins I could see along the side of the building.

All I could find was my black Waterman fountain pen! While I stood with the pen in my hand, reflecting on the irony of finding a Waterman fountain pen on a beach I heard the call of my beloved Crow and looked up to see him land on the 'St. Clair Shores' sign.

He danced a bit atop the sign, bobbing and prancing, bowing his head to me. He soon began to sing, as he had so long ago in that first dream, "Double, double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble." So I set to work moving along the shore, clearing debris, following my Crow as he hopped and flew away down the shoreline.

Soon I saw where he'd been leading me all along and I laughed to see the little girl from previous dreams. She stood in the shallows, watching an island through a spyglass. At our approach she turned and spoke excitedly, "There are things like bubbles beside the island, but I don't think they're bubbles. I think they're eyes!"

I could imagine a number of creatures whose eyes might be seen just above the water, none of which I felt ready to meet. As I looked out across the water, however, I could see the figures of the Faery Queen and her King, who appeared to be helping little people out of the water and into the cup-like buds of magnolias, bobbing on the water.

The royal couple made signs of blessing over each petite sailor before draping sparkling medallions around the neck of each and letting the tiny floral boats slip into the current. Soon a miniature flotilla was sailing toward our shore.

Musings.10: Barbara

This last dream of Melissa's perplexed me for a bit. Something obviously was trying to come to light, but why a dagger? What was I supposed to do with a dagger? What was the dagger meant to symbolize?

Then, as so often happens, that Creative Voice whispered and pointed me towards "The Sword and the Mind: The Classic Japanese Treatise on Swordsmanship and Tactics." I opened it to find a 17th century verse entitled "Dream": One hundred years, thirty-six thousand days. Maitreya, Avalokitesvara, how many yeses and nos? Yes is also a dream. No is also a dream. Maitreya is a dream. Avalokitesvara is also a dream. The Buddha said, "So is all to be seen."

Ah. Dream. Familiar territory. It seemed that two figures, Maitreya and Avalokitesvara, were to be considered teachers for something in this dream of Melissa's. Little is said about Maitreya beyond his identity as the buddha of the future, the last earthly buddha, who is regarded as the embodiment of love.

Avalokitesvara has several names: Lord of Compassionate Sight; Lord Who Looks on from High; Lotus-bearer - the lotus signifying non-attachment, freedom from ignorance, and the path to enlightenment. Avalokitesvara is considered the bodhisattva of universal compassion, the ideal of commitment to and involvement with all living and suffering. To the Chinese he appears as the merciful goddess Guanyin.

He resides in the Western Paradise, yet he remains in the world. He is considered the bodhisattva of the present age and is said to have emanated from Amitabha. From notes I wrote about a stone mural from the sixth century, during a visit to the Sackler Gallery (Wash., D.C.) in early December 2005, I know that "The Buddha of Infinite Light, known as Amitabha in the Indian language Sanskrit, is Lord of the Pure Land called the Western Paradise." Amitabha represents the pre-existent Buddha who already spontaneously exists.

Both Amitabha, the Lord of Infinite Light, and Avalokitesvara, the Lord of Compassionate Sight, forewent Nirvana to help the weak and suffering. With Maitreya (maitre in Sanskrit translates as loving-kindness), this trio of Lords offers the symbolic presence of figures of light, compassion, and love from the past, present, and future. Their presence radiates empathy with all living and suffering. Their presence signals a commitment to and involvement in the enlightenment of humanity.

In simple terms, these figures are committed to seeing that all of humanity comes to dwell in the state of true understanding of both inner and outer reality. Until we have this true understanding we dwell in a world of phenomena. The Diamond Sutra, as quoted in "The Sword and the Mind," teaches: "Every phenomenon is like a dream, an illusion, a bubble, a shadow; it is like dew and also like lightning. So is all to be seen."

Alistair Shearer writes in the introduction to his and Peter Russell's translation of selections of "The Upanishads," spiritual texts of India: "...the sages of the Upanishads were concerned with finding Truth, but they realized that as all experience is, and always must be, mediated through the mind, knowledge of the world can only go so far as the knower has knowledge of himself. (emphasis mine) Moreover, they considered our normal waking consciousness too limited and too unstable to comprehend any ultimate reality, for as Truth is that which does not change, it demands an equally unchanging consciousness to appreciate it."

The similarity in thought between these Indian sages and the Powhatans of North America is simply striking! (Scroll down to read Musings.9)

The interest of the sages of the Upanishads "was to transcend the ostensibly rational processes by which we normally try to make sense of the world and reach a state of pure Being, which, lying beyond all thinking and feeling, is the very basis of the mind. They called this state the Self and, as it is unchanging and impartial, considered it the only reliable basis for true understanding of both inner and outer reality. To live in this state of expanded awareness is to be enlightened ... "

This character, Melissa, has chosen to heed these dreams to learn of her Self, a process few Westerners consider 'rational.' Both the 'Dark Lady' and a dagger are presented to her in this ultimate reality. The message inherent in this is that the 'Dark Lady' is to be seen as a bringer of light and compassion, as Guanyin, an emanation of Amitabha. The dagger points to the pen as an instrument of enlightenment.

Tulku Thondup Rinpoche writes (Shambhala Sun, March 2009): "The Buddha said, 'Mind is the main thing and it is the leader.' The body is not our identity. Mind is our identity. It is who we are. So from the Buddha's perspective, working with the mind is the basis of health and healing ...... So if we honestly wish to take care of ourselves and serve this planet in a meaningful way --to heal ourselves and others - it is true loving-kindness that we must generate firmly in our own heart and mind." Loving-kindness must be a meditation one practices, regularly. Devotion to, practice of, loving-kindness brings one into touch with "the energy that opens our heart with joy and trust."

This energy explains the significance of the pen in the dream, I believe. In many ways a pen works with the mind to use language to manifest art. Language, to many people, is words. Joseph Campbell taught that all words are fragments of AUM - AUM which represents to us the energy of the Universe. To hear and feel and write the sounds Melissa hears in her world brings her to that expanded state of awareness and opens her heart with joy and trust.

AUM puts humanity in touch with the Universe. Language with its bits and bytes of AUM, meditated upon, practiced as art, can bring humanity to Truth, for it is written, "In the beginning was the Word."



[A bibliography for this post includes:

Cotterell, Arthur and Storm, Rachel. "The Ultimate Encyclopedia of Mythology". London: Anness Publishing Ltd., 1999, 2008

Russell, Peter and Shearer, Alistair. "The Upanishads". New York: Bell Tower, 2003

Sato, Hiroaki. "The Sword and the Mind: The Classic Japanese Treatise on Swordsmanship and Tactics". New York: Barnes and Noble Books, 2004

Thundup, Tulku Rinpoche. "Loving-Kindness is the Best Medicine". Shambhala Sun, vol. 17, no. 4, pps. 51-53, 97]

[[Stone Mural: "Western Paradise", China, Henan Province, Southern Xiangtangshan, Cave 2, Northern Qi dynasty, ca. 570]]

"Is this a dagger ...?": "Melissa"

awn is hours away, but until then I must sit here in this small circle of light and write the dream that shakes me so.

The landscape was the barren parking lot surrounding the warehouse. Moonlight sparkled so brightly and beautifully on the snow. I saw my Crow perched atop one of the posts for the tall chain link fence, just above the manufacturer's metal plaque: "W & H Fencing". I don't know why I would have noticed that, but I did. My Crow seemed distant, as if he knew I was there but was more focused on something else. Indeed, he flew off without giving me much more than a glance and that's when I knew something was wrong.

He flew toward the door of the warehouse, all hidden in shadow, but landed in the moonlit snow near three snowdrifts. He stood motionless for a long moment. When he suddenly hopped up onto the nearest drift I was surprised. With singular concentration he scratched away at the snow in an area along the top of the snowdrift until he was able to grasp something in his beak. He hopped backwards and tugged with his magnificent strength and finally lifted off with some sort of pendant.

"My god, they are bodies!" I screamed inside even as he repeated his actions on the remaining forms. I stepped to run and help him, but I stopped short as I saw a figure with a lantern approach from around the corner of the warehouse.

She was magnificent. Her gown and cloak caught and held the night and the moonlight and seemed to flow around her like mist. Hair black as my Crow's plumage escaped from under her hood in waves. I watched the lantern light dance over her earring, a confection of silver and crystal that reminded me of a medieval stained glass window. She was darkness and power, but nothing, nothing about her was grave. She was, I think, only brave. She walked right up to this scene of death - surely violence had been involved - carrying only light. As I write this I think of some lines from "Romeo and Juliet": 'O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!/It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night/as a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear ...' (Act I, Sc 1, 51-53)

When my Crow finished confiscating the medallions the Lady took candles from a purse at her waist and lit them with the flame in her lantern before setting a pair at the head of each body. The six candles aglow She turned and held her lantern aloft. "Joseph," She called, "You may now escort Your little ones home." Silently, backlit by moonlight, Uncle Joe approached. He was dressed as he had been for his wedding. We greeted one another and the Dark Lady, for so I have come to think of her in these hours, with hands pressed palm to palm and the salutation, "Namaste".

As Uncle Joe approached the bodies I saw misty forms rise from them. They seemed puzzled. Uncle Joe touched each one lightly on a shoulder and it was then I saw that they had coats-of-arms strapped to their arms like the leprechauns in the labyrinth! He gently removed these from each figure and, somehow, hung them on the wall of the warehouse. "Our bruised arms hung up for monuments," He explained to me as He escorted them past. "You will see, my friend, that you and She are the only hope for little ones such as these."

I thought to move the candles nearer to the coats-of-arms, hoping to create a shrine of sorts. When I bent over the forms I saw that each one had worn several heavy medallions around their necks, not just that which the Crow had taken. My Crow and the Dark Lady were silent as I carried each pair of candles to the wall, separately. As I placed the last set there in the snow I saw my Crow reflected in the shield before me, three crosses dangling from his beak.

He lifted off and I turned to watch him fly. The Dark Lady walked into the night the way She had come. Before She turned the corner her cloak brushed an object glinting in the snow. Curious, I went to retrieve it. When I pulled it from the snow, a handgun with a most curious brand name, I could only think to say, "Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle toward my hand?"