Now, crossing the field of the heart the emptiness, the loneliness when all seems lost when we have spent our last ounce of strength and the heart is awash in emotion Waves are crashing on the shores of our life relentless, and sleep is our only harbor In our dreams we are chased by wolves and claw our way, hand and foot, up hillsides waking as exhausted as when we closed our eyes This then; The dark night of the soul leaves us as an empty vessel that when ready will be filled again with wonder…
Summer Sunset – by gfs – image editing using Waterlogue on iPad
What dreams are felt while waking hours pass in seams of time Where other days and nights are folded in the margins of the pages
Where was I I thought I was Within another escapade Then turned my eyes to see the shadow sink into what was a violet daze
All of this poured through sheets of rain upon the wind while hushed the sound of curfews broke the hold of hands that held the lazy life in lonely lilting light
Photo: by GFS – Farmhouse near Saratoga Battlefield, Saratoga, NY
How far have we gotten in our self awareness? Are we aware of our awareness – are we conscious of consciousness? This is the debate of nihilists, atheists, agnostics, and the devout for ages of time.
Of course many – and perhaps they are blessed – don’t pause to ask the question, or never pause at all, except when exhaustion takes them, and they (we), literally “fall asleep”. Children do as a routine, and it is truly a blessing, for both parent and child; They are both free to wonder at their world. For the children, where they came from and for the adults, to where they are going.
In this light, the paradox is who is dreaming, child or parent? Are we dreaming when we plan our future, choose the color paint for a bedroom makeover, or a vision quest for our new car with all the right stuff we want in order for it to be perfect. Is our child dreaming when she wakes in tears because her dragon left never to return? The paradox is yes, and no, as It is all conscious awareness in one realm or another.
Realms, like reason, need study. It is not an uncommon word, but not all that common either. Not a word, not a place we consider on an average day. We accept, acquiesce to the realm we are born into, the realm we are conscious within. Here we stand (or sleep) unconcerned about place, but often obsessed about having and holding things within it, rarely wondering how those cravings came to be. Acting out alone, or moving in a crowd. Are our lives truly ours?
Why? Why live in a realm and never ask – why here and not there. Why do we believe awake is real and sleep is dreaming. Pause here a moment and wonder why sense and cents sound the same, because in truth they are, both have real value. Step away from sense perception for a time in isolation and we will start to hallucinate. If we experience sensory deprivation for extended periods of time, the hallucinations can lead to physical and mental illnesses – look up Guantanamo enhanced Interrogation. Most will not consider realms other than the sensory one we experience in daylight and fear at night time. They will sleep, uneasy that their dreams could become nightmares, and yet live out nightmares in the day just as well and just as real.
Realm crossings happen to us all the time; Birth – death, sleep – wake, work – home, are the more familiar, more mundane compared to hallucinogenics, or anything mind altering, ecstatic – music, dance, immersive walks in nature. Are we aware of the effects, and are we conscious of our fear of some crossings yet look forward to others.
Do you agree realms exist, and would you be comfortable seeking to know more about their meaning? For realm crossings are a paradox of consciousness we should welcome regardless of source, and put fear aside until we accept our interpretation of the dream – of dreaming. Transitions, even as you look up from this page, you are realm crossing, consciousness changing focus inner to outer, outer to inner – as McLuhan tells us “all time, in a not shall’.
Wake to the dream Fall into forever Footsteps melt Into the morning hush Of a new fallen snow Places return| Rounds we recall In moments Moving the spirit When sunrises Set in the dawn
Ascent into the glorious light does reveal
Returnings not all we were taught they would be
Across the river the veil of unknowing is rent
Shows how believing uncovered the lie within
grandfathersky 