The next step, maybe?

I’ve signed up for James Twyman’s seminar on what he calls  “dream dancing,” which uses the process of lucid dreaming as a way to connect with loved ones who have passed on. I don't usually sign up for those kinds of seminars and workshops and courses, because so much of the material that's covered is stuff that I've already learned, over the years.

My problem is that I don't often show the self-discipline to practice the techniques I already know. You can't buy enlightenment, kiddo; you have to work for it. Oh. Work. Yeah, that.

A very interesting thing happened right after I signed up. That very night, my mother (who died over ten years ago) was with me in my dreams, vividly present. I miss my mom very much, but don't have much contact with her--not nearly as much as I've had with other imaginal figures and deceased relatives. She seems as quiet and reserved in the afterlife as she was in this one.

I wonder what the larger implications of that are? I wonder if it’s easier for some of those Others to communicate in different ways—maybe some can make themselves heard the way I usually do it, while others might like a different method like lucid dreams.

Part of the reason I decided to sign up was to investigate what the technique Twyman proposes is like, and to see if I can figure out what the pitfalls are. Initially, with little experience of lucid dreaming and none whatsoever of James Twyman’s methodology, I am concerned about the usual New Age problems: an uncritical belief, and an emotional attachment to the outcome. But the same is true of active imagination, and of sensing the energies of the living, as I have sometimes painfully discovered over the years.

So it will be useful for me to experiment with this other method. I’m looking forward to it, and I’ll report, on the blog, on the results I achieve, or don’t.

A discouraging outcome

Well, my dream groups didn't make, despite a promising start. In the end, only one person, out of the hundred or so that I invited, actually signed up. This is a tough time of the year, and a tough time economically, so it's not altogether surprising. But I'm feeling pretty discouraged.

Many people are interested in dreamwork, no doubt about that. And I truly want to share what I know about the subject, because my approach is quite different from that of most people. If there was ever someone with the qualifications to help others understand their dreams, it's me. But this is the third time I've tried the groups, and the third time there haven't been nearly enough people to hold them.

My ego is having a real problem with this outcome, not surprisingly. But I remind myself that pushing the river is never a good idea. Things happen, or don't happen, when and how they  need to because of linkages and resonances that we cannot understand. Maybe at some point, years from now, I'll be able to say, "Oh, now I understand!" as I catch some faint glimmer of a pattern.

You can't push the river. On the other hand, you can't just sit passively and say, "Well, something will turn up." You have to keep watching, looking, following your passion, and taking whatever step shows up into the dark. I've lived like this for years--my dissertation evolved in just this way--so I know what to "do."

That does not make it any easier.

Gratitude and abundance

I had occasion yesterday and today to wonder about the relationship between gratitude and abundance. Haven't thought this through, but am just watching my own life. As I relax into a state of gratitude, good things seem to follow.

I'm so grateful to have my horse, for instance; just the fact that he is mine, and that I can be around him, seemed like a miracle to me. Then, out of the blue, someone gave me a saddle that "just happens" to fit both me and Galahad perfectly. I couldn't have afforded a saddle right now, but that was fine with me. Then: one appeared.

It seems to me that the grattitude and the abundance may actually be the same thing, somehow....