A Brief Stay in the Body of a Dragon on the Coast of Spain #dragonlines #dragonstones #spain #travel #costabrava #begur

“You manage to find home wherever you go.”

It was a statement made by a friend on Facebook in response to my recent trip to Spain.

Somehow, in a rather mystical way, home finds me when I travel. Magic opens the window when we are willing to look outside the confines of limiting beliefs. A magic that is not about manipulating the elements to our will, but allowing the wonders that already exist to reveal themselves to the opened mind.

The view of the building that housed our rental is tucked into the sea-facing side of a hill that resembles a pyramid.

My family and I chose our beach stay because it was in our price range in Costa Brava, and because we liked the few photos we had seen of the timeshare-style resort. The photos, we discovered when we stepped out of our car, did not come close to doing justice to the wonders of the landscape.

The beautiful view of Costa Brava from our balcony. A stone dragon leads the eye to the sea.

If you begin to look for them, you will find the forms of dragons are not so uncommon along coastlines. Their rocky heads jut out over the water, seemingly pulling the energy of Earth’s oceans into the dry body of land. Their lines of fire, in turn, churning the waters around them. It is alchemy at its best. Somewhat hidden and mysterious, but unmistakably felt. The wind is often more wild in these places, the elements palpably alive and alert. How lucky we were to discover not one dragon wrapping around the coast where we stayed, but two…

A coastal walk connects the two dragons and the pyramid hills from which their bodies descend into the water. This one appears almost to be sleeping, yet the hill above it is palpably alive with fire energy.

We walked this pyramidal hill one evening after a lovely dinner in one of the restaurants in the cove below it. The climb was not long, and it was manageable even for those of us in dresses and sandals.

The wide path narrows and becomes more rugged the closer you get to the top.

Although I could find no history of this site, either on the hill itself or online, layered remains of times past still exist upon it.

An unlabeled artifact on the trail. Three crouched figures with their heads removed seemed eerily appropriate…

There is something to be said about walking an ancient land at dusk. The veil thins and the energies stir a forgotten magic. It leaves no one untouched, and I could see the feeling of elation mirrored in the faces of my family as we climbed the hill.

I was in heaven.

It’s a little frustrating not to know the history of a place aside from the feeling it offers you.

The towered remains of Rome? And what was there before it?

We encountered more mystery and intrigue the evening we climbed the well-known castle in the center of Begur, which dates back to the 11th century.

Castle view

While looking at the breathtaking views atop Begur Castle, my eyes caught upon the mounds below, where are separated from the mountains behind them. Their shapes appear more defined than by the hand of Nature.

A sunset view from Begur Castle looking towards some interesting mounds.

But that would have to remain a mystery as well. We did not travel to climb them as we had only allowed for three nights on the coast of Spain. Which, as you can see from this sunset vista taken atop Begur Castle, is stunning.

My daughter, on top Begur castle looking out to the sea, finds joy wherever we travel.

The time passes as all time does, and we were soon on our way to spend the night with giants on a much larger mountain than the hills of Begur…

This spectacular coastal trail leads to beaches, cliff-jumping spots, and restaurants along Costa Brava

What’s Happened to Kindness and Empathy #empathy #compassion #pandemic

Image by Vicki Nunn from Pixabay

I live in a typical upper middle-class American town. People are kind when it’s convenient, and unkind, I suspect more often than most realize. At least these days. It is a place where behind closed doors comparisons are made and unkind remarks are uttered, but it is also a town where, more and more, unkind words are uttered in public. Especially on platforms like social media.

We have a town FB page that was created with the intention to build community. Whenever I go on it, I find posts where people are mocked and attacked. This is not community. This is not kindness. This is not empathy. This is not, I am sure, the only town like this is America. Or in the world right now. We are living in an era of extreme polarization fed by fear and hatred. More often than not, we are globally tapping into the shadowlands of ourselves to react to life, instead of finding the self in the other.

We can blame the previous POTUS for being an instigator and propagator of this dehumanizing type of behavior, but that is also a convenient excuse. Each one of us is endowed with the choice of our actions, thoughts, and words. In any moment we can behave with self-serving rhetoric, or we can step into the space of empathy, kindness, and love.

Some days, like today, I struggle with the pull to react and defend. To try to balance the scales back to humanity. Mocking a global pandemic, which has caused millions of people to die or become seriously ill, is not an act of empathy, love, or kindness. It is an action that is, simply, unjustifiable.

Undermining someone’s concern for their child’s welfare, and the welfare of their child’s classmates and teachers, by a laughing emoji reflects not only a lack of empathy, but a lack of humanity.

We an use the argument of “lies” v. “truth,” which is ever-so-popular right now in our fear-driven, conspiracy-fed world, but where does that truely led us? To more separation from our core essence. To more separation from ourselves and each other. The need to be special, unique, right, and different, drives us away from the realization that we are all worthy of this life we are living.

On My Birthday #poetry #birthdays

The 12th card I drew

I’m going to imagine something different:

The beauty of the goddess unfolding

Light softening the edges of life

Years, a mold of becoming

The inner child emerging

and merging into the dance

of a perfection that is truth

This messy cohesion of unity

Something radiant called a Life

So many journeys to get to this place

Defining and refining

Breaking down to build

Whole

Like a chalice spilling over

to fill again, and again

Tireless infinity splitting open

the moment not like a wound

but like a lover seeking joy

This seed waiting to germinate

finding the sun was always there

in the full splendor of wonder

watching the budding of a radiance

thriving under the moon, night

as much a friend as day

the taste of sorrow becoming happiness

refined

I wrote this poem before drawing 12 tarot cards as a reflection upon this day. Forty-eight years ago I was born into this life. A life that seems, at times, difficult to define and accept. Birthdays have never been easy days for me, in large part because they have been days, like all the others, not wholly mine to embrace and be embraced by. I knew I would find the chalice in the cards, but I thought it would be The Queen of Cups, as this is how the “I” has reflected itself over the years, but 12 cards unfolding this journey brought The Ace. I had, after all, asked for something new...

The Mystical, Magical Montserrat #travel #montserrat #spain

There were elephants, apes, cats (both wild and tame), and there were giants. Lots of them. We were not a zoo or a carnival. Nor were we at the circus. We were on the top of a mountain in Spain. If you’ve been there, you will know Montserrat is nothing short of wondrous.

The elephants and their friends

“Look,” my daughter pointed her finger to a grouping of stone figures peering down upon our arrival, “They’re elephants. Except that one. That’s a monkey.”

Wonder is even better when it is shared.

The giant looming left in the image stood sentinel over our rooms.

“That,” I added to her assessment, “Is most definitely a giant and it looks like he’s lost one of his four arms.” The figure stood directly over our rooms, as if in constant guard. A sentinel watching pilgrims come and go over thousands of years. To be in the presence of these giants in stone is nothing short of amazing. It is both humbling and mind-boggling. How did they get here? One wonders. How did we get here?

The view of Montserrat’s train station from the hike down its summit.

Life’s existential questions hover with you above the clouds and you are certain you must have ascended into another world. A world of stone gods.

One of the many shrines on Montserrat

They are not unkind. The atmosphere on Montserrat is both welcoming and peaceful. To all. Even though Christian hands have stamped their marks throughout its 4,000 plus feet of peaks and valleys.

A cross marks a peak on Montserrat

Legends tell of a group of shepherds in the year 888 who encountered the presence of the divine while wandering near the top of Montserrat. Beams of holy light shone down upon them and the song of angels and bells filled the air. Each time they returned, they were met with the same holy welcome, which led them to a cave holding an icon of the black Madonna and child, “La Moreneta.”

The sun’s angle brought an ethereal light to this holy place.

Montserrat is not only revered by Christians, but by all types of seekers. It is said that the templars sought the Holy Grail here. Numerous UFO sightings have been reported, and there are legends of abductions and strange encounters with other dimensions. Caves channel through the mountain’s body and one gets the sense that its secrets will never been fully revealed.

In this image I see two lovers in an eternal embrace.

If I could have stayed here longer, I would have. Maybe for a month, maybe years…

As it was, though, we had less than 24-hrs to explore a small part of the mountain’s mysteries.

We arrived by car to the parking area below the Benedictine monastery, and the small village that includes a hotel, hostal, apartments, shops, and transport stations.

The lower part of the village of Montserrat. You can see the steep, gray line of the summit funicular in the crevice of the rocks.

If truth be told, we almost didn’t make it. Montserrat, we soon realized, welcomes you, but also tests your limits. For my husband, it was trusting the mountain would not careen us over its edge as he carefully drove us towards its top. His fear put us all on edge, testing us individually and as a family. I grew impatient as I calculated how much time we had already lost. Acceptance comes when one takes the gift as it can be welcomed only by you. For us, it was our brief, yet magical stay on the mountain.

My daughter near the summit

We were greeted with a perfect day. The sun shining almost within reach through a nearly windless and cloudless expanse of endless sky. You really do feel as though you are on top of the world when you reach the summit of the mountain.

We were greeted with our own beams of light as we conquered the mountain’s heights

We took the funicular from the village to the summit, then walked back down to the village area. By the time we checked into our hotel and wandered a bit around the abbey (abandoning the chance to see La Moreneta due to the long, inching line), it was nearing the end of the day. We got one of the last runs up the mountain and had just enough time before the sunset to meander our way down, veering just slightly off-course now and then to explore and test limits.

My son decides to conquer his own fears by climbing off-course to ascend even higher.

Despite a few tugs of temptation, we stayed the course and followed the well-marked, mostly-paved path. The views are stunning no matter where you are on the mountain, the trail of serrated rock formations instill awe at each turn. We even found a dragon, in stone, meandering down one side. Perfect.

Dragon ridge

I felt like I had found heaven. Not a perfect heaven, but just the kind-of heaven I prefer. One that awes, but also tests in order to learn.

A heavenly view of the mountain and the abbey.

Even dinner was pretty close to being divine, and we very nearly didn’t get one. Well, perhaps that’s a slight exaggeration, but when my husband called for reservations the night before, he was told they were all booked. Most likely a miscommunication, the information lost and muddled in translation, we found this was in fact not the case. Upon our check-in I had no trouble reserving us a table for 7:45pm.

The dining room at Hotel Abat Cisneros Montserrat is a wonder in itself

Our three-course, very reasonably priced meals, came with a large soup or salad (I got the pumpkin soup, which was, yes, divine), a generous and tasty entree, and dessert. If you go, make sure to choose the local cheese and Montserrat honey as one of our dessert options.

Sleeping at Montserrat is deliberately short of luxurious. Even the hotel rooms are furnished in a spartan style that favors celibacy. We had two adjoining twins adorned in plaid earth tones. A bible was the centerpiece of each of our night tables.

The courtyard of the monastery at night.

The close of day releases all but the committed travels down the mountain, and the village of Montserrat turns into a place of solitude and peace. Except for the bells, which we discovered as we attempted to slumber, ring out the time every quarter-hour. As we struggled with sleep in our rooms without air-condition, windows ajar, letting in the mountain air and the holy bells, I no longer wondered why there were so few of us spending the night.

Yet, I was glad we did.

The big dipper visible over the stone giants (these ones had a sphinx-like feel to them).

Night atop Montserrat opens another portal to the heavens. Stars break through the canvas of day to shine in all their rapture. The big dipper was clearly visible as it dove its ladle into the bodies of the giants. It is magical. Other-worldly. An experience one will never forget.

A monk makes his way to the monastery at dawn.

Dawn, in turn, brings with it a quiet splendor as the sun ascends above the clouds and the monks make their way to the abbey.

Dawn’s clouds atop Montserrat separates the world above from the world below

Breakfast, although more casual in-style, is also impressive at the hotel. It is included with your stay and arrives in buffet style in the informal dining room. Aside from various pastries and fruit, a selection of meats, cheeses, yogurts, cereals, and beverages are offered. We did not leave hungry.

But we also did not linger too long. We needed to return our car by 10:30am, which became another adventure in itself…

It was with more than a twinge of reluctance that I said goodbye to Montserrat as we made out way down from its spectacular heights. Someday, perhaps, I will get a chance to return.

An unforgettable place.

Summer of Rain and Fire #climatechange #ahimsa #kindness #pandemic

I no longer wonder how long it will last, but how long we will endure.

We are living in extremes. One side of the world weeps, while the other side burns in fever. One element, without the other, leads to imbalance. Just like in the human body. Too much yin swallows life force. Too much yang, burns it up. Yet, somehow, for now, we endure. Endure to hold onto extremes…

We reflect what we create.

Denial can be a powerful force of destruction. Eyes resist focusing on what brings discomfort.

Turmoil stirs the Earth, but it also stirs the self.

How often do we forget that what we sow within, we reap outside of us?

I find myself growing tired of excuses. The unchecked ego filled with self-affirming prophecies refusing to go inward to see outside the self with clear eyes.

I find myself growing tired of the selfish mind refusing to remember that we are here to take care of not only the self, but the whole.

I am tired of those who insist on being right at the expense of life. Denying a crisis serves no purpose other than for the ego to feel justified.

We are taught by our spiritual leaders that all life is sacred. That we are just one part of a whole. We are taught interconnectedness and to do no harm, yet the ego’s search for separation has led to a world that burns and weeps extremes. A world where more than 4 million people have died from a virus that is mutating out of control because there are so many hosts that refuse to believe it is real.

Refuse to see that inaction can cause harm.

Our Earth was created with free energy and that energy has never left us. Yet we burn her lungs for profit, and drill into the body that feeds us for industrial gain. Temporary gains leaving trails of disease and death.

We are, undeniably, a selfish lot, but we don’t have to be.

Small gestures can go a long way…

Getting a vaccine can not only save your life, but countless others.

Wearing a mask if you are at risk of harming your own life and others, is not a violation of your personal rights, it is an act of ahimsa. It is an act of grace and kindness.

Tending to the planet is not an act of weakness, it is an act of strength. It is an act of ahimsa. It is an act of grace and kindness.

Summer Robin Family #robins #rebirth #birds

I have become enraptured by a family of robins. I noticed their nest about a month ago, hanging on a low branch of my lilac bush. A mere few inches above the top of my head, it is ideally situated for my viewing. It also happens to be perfectly aligned with one of the windows on my porch. Ideal for taking photographs without intruding on privacy.

On Tuesday I noticed the first hatchling and became enraptured. That was it. My heart filled with love and awe for the circle of life that had decided to grace my yard.

To be privy to this brief unfolding; to watch its emergence and transformation, instills within the humble joy of bearing witness to a miracle. It is the dance of grace. It is small, yet profound reminder that life is in constant cycle.

I have named this family even though they are not mine to name. I am calling the babies Sue and Rachel, and I think perhaps no one will mind that I do. It is my way of remembering two lives that are in their own process of cycling. Two lives I was fortunate enough to share with my own for a brief time. Both lovers of birds who are now untethered from Earth. It seems fitting.

Many a moment is now spent watching. Watching the mother, Bratha, as she tends to her chicks. There are only two, where the average is 3-5 eggs per breeding cycle for the American robin. The number fits nicely into my homage.

In just a few days the eyes of the chicks have opened and their bodies have sprouted thick coats of mottled gray. They are beginning to find their voices as they call out their hunger to their mother.

She is mostly patient and obliging, but she also gives them space. Space to emerge into individuality. I find it both heartbreaking and beautiful. It reminds me of loss, but also of hope.

#WRITEPHOTO – FEATHER CLOUD #clouds #cloudformations

Honored to have a photo of mine featured in KL’s #writephoto prompt this week and looking forward to reading the creative prose that it inspires:

New2Writing

Afternoon Everyone,

Welcome to the weekly #writephoto prompt!

This week’s prompt is a post with a difference – our JULY guest photo!

Feather Cloud – Image by A Kehas

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a beautiful feathered cloud in the colours of a rainbow.

A great bigthank youto Alethea for agreeing to be the featured photo this month. What a beautiful photo for us. Pop over to her blog athttps://aletheakehas.com/to show her some love!

The regulars already know this bit, but for those that don’t:

  • EachThursdayatNoon GMTI will post the #writephoto prompt
  • Use the image and prompt as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, as long as it is fairly family-friendly.
  • Please have your entries linked back to the original prompt post by the followingTuesdayatNoon…

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Why this Yoga Practitioner Believes in Science, Truth, and the Prevailing Goodness of Humanity #weareallinthistogether #science #truth #vaccines

Image by mohamed Hassan from Pixabay

I am sitting in my car, driving home from my yoga class, shaking my head. The radio is tuned to NPR and there is (another) program on about the pandemic. There have been other programs before it, there will likely be many more as we struggle to overcome what has become a struggle not with just a virus, but with our humanity.

The mystics of old, as well as the mystery schools, teach us that we are all, in essence, one. We are each a piece of a larger consciousness. A consciousness that we become somewhat (but no wholly) separated from for a period of time to learn and grow back into the return of unity.

This is the prevailing concept that drives my life. This is why I turned to the mysteries. To yoga. To studying Life, as best I can, in each moment.

To me, the concept of “oneness” includes the knowing that at our core there is love. It is the force of love that drives life into being. It is the force of love that sustains the continuation of Life, and it is the force of love that unites our separation into unity.

Even though I grew up with a very scientifically structured childhood and adolescence, there were seeds of spirituality scattered throughout. Seeds of this idea of unity and of a conscious energy that flows through all life. In the closet were decks of Tarot cards, no longer used. On the shelves, books about the divine feminism and yoga. In my household there was the prevailing, underlying knowing of this greater consciousness, even if it was largely ignored.

I studied biology (and English) at Bowdoin College. A place filled with brilliant minds and inquisitive students. My lust for understanding Life led me to read writing by philosophers, mystical poets, and scientific texts based on logic and theories that could be tangibly proven. After Bowdoin, I went on to study, for a brief time, at Brown University. Another place filled with brilliant minds and inquisitive students. Over the course of my years studying in the field biological sciences, I worked in four different research laboratories. I ran experiments in molecular genetics at Bowdoin, and in two different laboratories at Brown. Then, when I left Brown after deciding that a career in a laboratory wasn’t for me, I took a 1.5. yr temporary position under a neurogeneticist who was getting ready to retire at Massachusetts General Hospital. Why am I telling you all of this? Because during these years I met and worked with several brilliant minds all with a shared interest of studying and understanding Life, not for mere personal gain, but for a genuine and sincere interest in making the lives of others better.

Over the years I have moved into the more mystical side of science, yet “science” is ever-present in my life. It always will be. Science is integral to who we are. We are complex molecular structures woven into complex bodies of cells, muscles, and tissues that move and operate through a matrix of energy systems. We are science, but we are also more. Pervading through these bodies of cells and atoms is a life force that sustains us and will sustain our being after our bodies return to Earth.

Life happens. Things go wrong. We get sick. We mistreat our bodies. We mistreat each other. We are human beings having a human experience. We are imperfect. That is why we are here to learn and to grow…back into unity.

This is why I am deeply troubled, as I know many of you are, by the extreme polarity that persists in our world. That stuff that seeds war, racism, hatred, and mistrust is bothersome to me. All of these aspects of our minds that move us away from unity and the knowing that we are more alike than we are different. This polarizing movement away from the knowing that we are all, in essence, seeds of the same light.

We have our individual experiences, and hence we are different from each other. Experiences, which I believe, most often extend throughout many lifetimes. Yet are are not served well from these experiences if we do not explore their effects on us and on others.

I have a friend whom I consider to be deeply spiritual. She has studied Shamanism, as well as reiki and other forms of the more mystical aspects of life for many years. And she is also college educated, with two degrees, was brought up in a Jewish household, and considers herself a follower of both the mysteries and science. Although she has a deeply rooted fear of needles (not vaccines), which may seem illogical unless you follow the thread of experiences of past-lives, she pushed through her fears and got the COVID-19 vaccine. Even though she is health-compromised from fibromyalgia, I am happy to report she is doing fine post-vaccine. There were some uncomfortable side effects a day-and-a-half, but they have passed.

I am incredibly impressed by her strength and fortitude. I admire her ability to balance a life of science and mysticism while constantly keeping her fears in check through awareness. She believes in the prevailing goodness of humanity, even though she knows we are all imperfect beings having a human experience. My friend also believes in facts and data. She knows that “numbers don’t lie,” and that the deaths from this virus have far exceeded any fear she harbored about getting jabbed with a needle. In her case, she is not afraid of the vaccine, she is afraid of the mechanism that administers it.

And she owns it. In order to understand her fear she did not divine into a conspiracy. She did not search the irrational to find an excuse. She dove into herself. This is, in my humble opinion, what defines a good Life student. My friend sought to understand herself, and in doing so, uncovered the root of her resistance to getting the jab. And in doing so, she overcame it. Not just to help herself, but because she knows that we are all interconnected. She is aware that by vaccinating herself, despite the risks of her underlying health condition, she is helping others who may be susceptible to becoming ill, or worse, from a virus.

A couple of days ago, another friend of mine brought to my awareness a recent article titled “Getting the COVID-19 Vaccine Was My Act of Ahimsa.” Ahimsa is the yogic practice of living life with the intention of inflicting as little harm as possible on other beings. It is the principle of altruism based on a selfless knowing that we are all connected, and that all life has meaning and value. The author of the article wrote this assertion after her diligent research separating facts from conspiracies and speaking with experts in the field, “It brought me right back to my understanding of ahimsa. While the concept of ahimsa’s direct command is not to kill, its wider, and more positive meaning is simple: to love.”

Unlike my friend, the author of this article was at very low risk for having any side-effects from the virus or the vaccine, yet she decided to get the vaccine as an act of ahimsa. She thought not merely of herself, but of the wholeness of humanity of which she is a part. She weighed the risks against the benefits. She explored the intricacies of science and how viruses work, as well as the vaccines meant to keep them in check. And, she overcame her personal fears to do what she considers to be the right thing for the world.

Feeding mistrust divides us. A lot of controversy spun out of this article, which appeared in Yoga Journal. Some people were outraged. Others read through their personal fears and insecurities and saw the love at the core of it. They saw Ahimsa. Sometimes life requires us to surrender to trust and faith in the prevailing goodness that unites us. Yes, there will always be those that would do harm based upon their own life experiences, but the vast majority of beings walking this Earth are striving, ever-striving, towards that reconnection with Love. Including the scientists and healthcare workers that dedicate their lives toward ahimsa.

Before I get out of my car to enter back into my home, I listen to the words of the reporter on the radio, lingering for a moment in my garage. He is talking about all those thousands of people dedicated to saving lives. In particular, various healthcare workers who are emotionally and physically exhausted from months that have now stretched past a year of trying to save lives. And he is talking about some, more than a few, who are so exhausted they are considering giving up their careers. They simply have depleted their personal supply of constantly giving of themselves in the face of death and adversity. Giving up their careers is not turning away from ahimsa, it is, sadly, instead a result of too many people not practicing its principles. We cannot do it all alone, but we can, together, live in the belief of love.

Blueberry Blessings on a Dragon Hill #nhhikes #bownhtrails #knottingcookforest

The Gathered Blessings of a Blueberry Hill

The first time I met my husband he told me a story about Blueberry Mountain. In truth, the mountain was a hill, and it had some other name, but that’s not really what matters. What matters is the magic the hill held for him. We were just seventeen, and we were on our first “date.” We first met on the 4th of July thirty years ago at the ASP program at St. Paul’s School. I was studying biology, and he, ecology. But on the 4th of July his dorm hosted my dorm for an ice cream social. The rest is our story…

Which, you could say, began atop a hill covered in blueberries. Although we could not leave the campus for our first date, he still took me to that special place. Together we sat in the tower room of the school’s library as we shared stories and got to know each other. Dave was working on an essay for the required writing course, and I was offering my feedback. The story was about a hill he climbed with his family during their summers at the lake. A hill topped in midseason with wild blueberries.

The hill, alas, as fallen into private hands, but I was lucky enough to climb it with my husband to gather blueberries together before the “No Trespassing” signs went up. Now we have our own “blueberry hill,” and there we went last night on the eve of our wedding anniversary to gather the hill’s blessings and enjoy the summer’s evening.

I call it “Dragon Hill.” The first time we climbed it, I saw the head of a dragon on the side of the path. There are places woven through Earth where the dragon lines are strong, and this is one of them. It is, undeniably, a special place. Even though it is a small hill in a small town, seekers find it from other states. They may not be consciously aware of its magic, but they are drawn to it nonetheless.

Yesterday, as day settled into dusk, we walked the back of the dragon with our two dogs and I found joy peeling away the outer layers of stress. It has been a trying couple of years for many of us, for a variety of reasons not just related to the pandemic, and in that moment of walking I felt some of that holding release. I was reminded, in the walking, that Earth offers us healing when we seek it through the space of the heart. It merely requires an opening.

What a gift it is to walk the Mother-body of Gaia. To feel the surrender to her love. There is a joy in the unity that comes from walking into her embrace. She might not actively reach for us, but her arms are always open to receive.

We had not thought to bring a collection bag with us. In truth, we were going for the sunset, which gave us in returned a clouded sky. When we saw fellow climbers gathering the ripe fruit from the hilltop, we paused but continued on. It was only in the turning back that we stopped to gather. Taking a small bag meant for the dogs’ waste, we opened up to the gift of the hill’s abundance, recalling the hill that thirty years before symbolically brought us together.

Although the area had peaked with its offering, we took just enough to make a batch of muffins and perhaps some pancakes. Not enough for a pie, but enough for joy.

The Land of Oz & Alice: Adventures in Dreamland #dreams #dreaminterpretation #dreamsymbolism

It should come as no surprise to me that Sue would find a way to weave her wisdom into the realm of my dreams. She knew me better than most, and what better place to seed the journey than through the map of the subconscious.

Sue also knew I loved to study dreams. In my weekly journal correspondence I could not help including a dream or two as they always, inevitably, related to waking life experiences. That’s the way dreams work, even though they may appear random and irrational at first glance. There is always a lesson (and usually many) to uncover when one takes the time to delve into their symbolism. Mostly Sue made me uncover them for myself. It seems nothing has changed 🙂

Thankfully, as Sue well knew, I love symbolism. My mind is ever-searching out the meaning hidden below the surface of life. And, to be quite honest, I was surprised and a little dismayed that she hadn’t appeared sooner in the land of my dreams.

It was, alas, a mere cameo… about two weeks ago. I nearly missed her. She came and went so fast from the dream I could have doubted it was Sue if I didn’t know her better. And she uttered just one word: “Jabberwocky.”

You’ve got to be kidding!

No doubt she was chuckling a bit. Fair enough. I do like a good puzzle, and certainly this one was intended to draw me down the rabbit hole…

And as I usually do when messages are cryptic, I asked a few intuitive friends for their thoughts. Each one gave a different answer, but each answer had relevance. I read the poem, more than once, and pondered each possible meaning. Days passed and then another dream came to me. This one per my request.

“Could you give me a message,” I asked her before I fell asleep, “Something, anything, to let me know what you think I should do.”

Instead of “Wonderland,” I was brought to Oz. You, as a reader, no doubt will already be drawing the parallels between the two. Sue is undoubtedly clever. But this was not exactly the Oz of Dorothy’s dream, this was an Oz designed for me. The journey, rich and filled with symbols at every turn I took, took me into a different aspect of something I either had overcome, needed to overcome, or was in the process of overcoming.

When I finally reached “Oz,” I found myself atop a magnificent waterfall. It was a straight down vertical dive from the height of at least the Eiffel tower. A wonderful source of power…then the dream shifted one more time.

Suddenly I was at the bottom of the fall and the water had been replaced by sand (note the parallels to “The Wizard of Oz” movie, as a friend pointed out, and the “sands of time.” Up a ladder I began to climb while the sand poured through the rungs. Using, somehow, only my left hand while my right clutched a stack of books. I hauled those books all the way to the top of that darn latter. Then, looking down far below, I released them. As they scattered into a circular on the ground, a woman appeared and laid in the bare space in the middle one book, The Wizard of Oz, smiled and left. After she left everything else disappeared and I found myself gazing into a sky so vast and beautiful it felt like heaven. Shapes formed out of the clouds, the first and more prominent of which was a lion.

Thank you, Sue. I get it, I think. Mostly. Now to find that courage within. 🙏

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