As I see it, the real function of art is to penetrate
environment of the world with metaphysical
so that man is not one with ego.
--Cecil Collins
(Or "woman", I might add, in the case of this story ...)
So often we wake up from a dream, thinking, Oh, I just dreamed about it, because that's what I did yesterday, what a dull dream! And we forget about it in a moment. But even these banal dreams can have useful messages. Messages that can sometimes affect the decision or choice of our consciousness are considered. Consider this essay as an important example.
Twenty-two years ago, on the eve of what astrologers called “Harmonious Convergence,” five other women and I went to Mama Cynthia’s house at Little Sebago Lake in Maine to chat and relax over the weekend. It was a great day, and we hurried into our swimsuits and climbed into these wonderful lakes, our books in dry protective pockets inside waterproof loops. Then we jumped into the free floating dock. Having risen, we prepared towels and drinks and quietly talked or read our books under the perfect warmth of the August sun. There were the usual violations of other boats and voices ringing from the shore, but the scene was mostly peaceful.
We talked about a phenomenon that caused the local feminist community of the southern state of Maine, vaguely and innocently, the Artists' Workshop. These particular artists workshop was designed to help "fight feminist writers and artists." We just attended a meeting that never indicated what was meant by “help” or what skills were to be implemented during the session. Lynn, my old acquaintance, with whom I worked at my bookstore, was a woman who initially invited me to join.
It was in 1987 and at that time, I had never heard of a pyramid scheme, such as the one that recently helped bring down the world economy. A language composed in the New Age language, set up to earn money for those who received early enough, The Artist & # 39; s Workshop was called a brilliant new way to support independent women. Those who do not literally do math can be captivated by the energy and enticed by the enthusiasm of the group. Although I did not suspect that Lynn or one of her friends thought that they had perpetuated a lost sentence that, in the end, would have hurt others, I was immediately suspicious.
Usually I was Pollyana when I came to trust, but for me it did not make sense. Mathematics is not my forte; This is one of my problems with the right brain. But I knew some logical people with the left brain and consulted with them. The pyramid scam increases substantially exponentially with such a speed of multiplying speed, which inevitably at some point should collapse. It was for working with the airplane metaphor.
For $ 1,500 you could buy a seat on the plane. Then you sold eight other places and got a promotion to the co-pilot. These eight people bake you $ 1,500 a piece, and now, before you found out, you had $ 12,000 in cash. Lynn used this rent to make the desired geographic step over rough terrain. And she moved, and she served her well. As for the women who gave her their money - they gamble, but did not try. Some of these women were women in the dock with me that day.
I tried to tell them about the possible risks. But everyone in our little town discussed this. He probably already passed through the cusp. But in the entrepreneurial state of Maine, there were so many young holistically-minded women trying to penetrate their own practice — massage therapists, nutritionists, specialists in the field of herbal remedies for flowers — that you have — everyone wanted to quit their jobs. I just sold my store, and the idea of a chance for a safe financial start at a new venture was very seductive.
In our small town, people took a risk in the mid-thirties, and you could “make your dream” easier here than in a larger, more populous area where real estate prices were outside the charts. The fact that, at the moment, those who promoted artists, the Seminar show has already invested and was convinced that there are enough people in the world, that this thing can continue to move and free someone from the boredom of meaningless work. We learned later that it was already exhausted in Boston, and the plane flew north to more provincial places with a smaller population and people with less money to burn.
Therefore, I considered the possibility of holding a seminar. I was tempted, and I had cash. I even ran into Lynn with the ethical issue behind promotion. “What if women who give you their money with their good will be in trouble when they cannot find anyone else on board the plane?” I asked. “Well, maybe it's their karma,” she replied.
Her answer did not fit me, because he incorrectly used the system of spiritual convictions, almost as much as the Hindu caste system does when she rationalizes that lowly "untouchables" were born in their low state as a result of karmic payback, therefore people of higher castes just look down on them. Regardless of any reasoning about the causes and consequences of karmic equilibrium, I believed that one who follows the spiritual path does not know, puts others at a disadvantage.
Once again, we were adults, and Lynn claimed that everyone was aware of the risks. I argued that someone who lowered this line would lose, and I would benefit from her money. This, I argued, may be bad karma. Perhaps I was overly confident, but I did not think that with a clear conscience I could ask someone to give me money, selling it in theory that they would return when I could not guarantee anything.
We passionately discussed the arguments for and against that sunny day on the dock for the buzzing motors of the outboard boats. The scene was completely peaceful, until now this whaler, full of twenty boys, was beating from here, leaving him following the tsunami above our sacred space. We all get up, our books fall into the lake, drink tips, towels are soaked. We cursed, shouted, cursed and shook the boys' fists, and, to our great surprise, they got stuck, returned, jumped out of the boat, swam to us, climbed onto our pier and started throwing us into the water!
It was so outrageous that between screams we could not help but laugh and resist. Everyone either went up to the dock or threw someone else. Here we were home goddesses in our thirties, and these boys and boys aggressively attacked us. One stayed in the boat, of course, and we saw empty beer cans scattered on its floor.
At one point, the dock was full of wrestling women and young men who listed one path and then another. Our legs glided, everyone fought and screamed, grunted and laughed when the four corners of the square docks alternately fell below the surface of the lake. Then, as soon as they arrived, the boys began to swim back to their boat. We held on to one of them and punched him when he was lying on his stomach, holding out the upper half of his body to the water. Finally we dragged him overboard. They jumped out in their whale whip, leaving us hysterical. It was a very strange interlude, and in a quiet, left behind, we turned to each other and froze like schoolgirls.
Later that night, we cooked dinner on the street and greeted the planetary alignment. The next day I found out that after I went to bed, two of the women went skinny dipping and that the lake was full of fun in the morning hours. Returning home in a day or so, my dream took his image from a crazy incident on the lake. It was one of those plebeian dreams, a general reproduction of a tape of our lake that occurred a few days ago.
But this dream was not only a warning, so as not to lose the imagination of the unconscious, even if it is completely connected with the "daytime stay"; the dream turned out to be the answer to my inquiry about the Artist's Studio Here is a dream:
I am with my female friends in the dock at the lake,
Suddenly a boat comes with young people and sprays us.
The boys leave the boat and swim in the dock, attacking us,
throwing us into the water, trying to grab the dock.
We fight back, and there is a huge clash of bodies leaning and falling,
push, pull and overlap. He sees as if
more and more people in the dock
the atmosphere in the scene becomes frightening. Suddenly I notice
one corner sinks completely underwater and I'm stuck with
thought: this dock will sink. Then I wake up.
Probably, I would have fired this dream as nothing more than my memory of the exact events that occurred a few days before I was not sleeping, I trained in a dream with a junior mentor. In addition, I clearly asked information from my unconscious about artists. Workshop before I went to bed that night. I have to admit, as adamant as I was with Lynn, and as much as I argued with other friends, I was also tempted to try. The time was wonderful, since I was “between” jobs and not sure where I was going next.
But that morning when I thought of a dream, I made sure that I had the information I needed. In the near future, this aircraft was doomed to
a wreck and a sink, just like an exaggerated dock in a dream, and I, for example, decided that I would not be on it.
Although I told my friends, some still risked and guessed what? They lost their money. We were exactly one level too late in the game on the plane. My friends, although they were disappointed, appeared to be kind to the loss later, acknowledging that it was a gamble, but nevertheless, none of us were in good condition, and I was glad that I could not 1500 dollars. Naturally, this only increased my faith in communication with the unconscious.
*
This entire incident gives rise to some problems related to the world of the New Age business, and not to the true actions of the spiritual consciousness in the universe. Over the years, I became more suspicious because I spoke with many people and took many courses and seminars in the so-called spiritual areas of healing and consciousness. What I have learned is that human weakness is common and that in this area, perhaps more than others, you need to be your own personal guide.
The issue of trust is as shaky as in the traditional medical field, where we looked at the Doctors as if they were gods. Our highest self are our own best guides. In the New Age business, there are charlatans of gurus, as in any other business. People have unconscious shadows, and when it comes to money, it's easy to go unconscious. I knew that I was writing poetry and reflecting on the fact that there is an inner world of knowledge and that the practice of service and peace helps us get there.
Despite the mainstream media's jokes about Moron Convergence, I thought that after this planetary alignment, a new energy for spiritual development appeared. Many prophetic writings mention a “dispensation” for the human race, which was destined to come at the end of the 20th century. As we see our external reality challenging us more by appealing to our own leadership, perhaps all that needs to be relied upon.
Our dreams will speak to us if we make every effort to ask. We can incubate the dream, considering the problem as I did this night. No matter what kind of dream comes, no matter how banal or distant it may seem from our question, if we look closely, we will find it relevant.
Recommendations
* cited in Harvey, Andrew and Mark Matousek., Dialogues with Modern Mystic ,. Wheaton, Illinois: Quest, 1994.
