Night has it's still, quiet pockets. Much like a pita. Much like a poem where the moon bounces off a clean surface. Especially if she is a super Winter moon.
I woke this morning from a vivid dream. I was walking through the woods on a path strewn with colored leaves, and started to climb up a hill which became very steep. As I climbed I saw a beautiful lake, stretching out in clear blue waves. I thought to myself this is amazing, why have I never found tis path before. After all my walks in the City, how did I miss this?
Eventually the path led to a clifftop, from which I could see even more of this lake and I was astounded at the height I had climbed and the vastness of the view before me.
There was a column at the top of the path, and I thought if I could walk around it, I would be able to continue the walk, but it was a very slim ledge that circled the column and I became afraid to walk on it, for if I slipped and fell, I would surely disappear.
I tested the corner of the column after peering around it, and it was loose and crumbling. I consoled myself from failure to advance with the thought I had been cautious with good reason.
Soon after, from that slim ledge, around the corner came from my friend Jane, and we greeted each other, sharing our surprise at seeing each other. I mentioned how afraid I was of walking the ledge and she shrugged it off.
We started to walk back down from the clifftop into the autumn light of the forest, and saw litter which I had not noticed before. A broken container of prescription pills, other papers I cannot now recall. Perhaps we began to pick up the litter.
At this point I woke up, still shaky from feeling the crumbling ledge at the top of the hill. I thought of my recent trip to New Mexico when we had gone to the Gila wilderness and walked the path to the cliff dwellings. On the way down, I experienced an intense fear of heights, a new sensation for me. The lack of railing, the sandy footing, the expanse of terrain miles wide and deep--I was truly afraid I would slip and fall and roll down and away.
Perhaps this was the source of the dream I had just had. Was it about my fear of heights, or a contemplation of danger, or a vision of the future? Or was it just a memory of a walk with my friend, me afraid, and she not?
Other memories surfaced. The woods of my childhood as the leaves turned each time one had to go back to school. The view of an expansive lake I have seen in films, or perhaps from the window of a train to Lucerne with my mother who was only a few years from death. The steady forward motion of my friend through the detritus of the past. My own incessant wish for spiritual cleansing by tidying up, ordering my books and papers.
One must be aware of symbols in times like these, I am now thinking in the dry relief of the daylight.
Ascension
ReplyDeleteI woke this morning from a vivid dream. I was walking through the woods on a path strewn with colored leaves, and started to climb up a hill which became very steep. As I climbed I saw a beautiful lake, stretching out in clear blue waves. I thought to myself this is amazing, why have I never found tis path before. After all my walks in the City, how did I miss this?
Eventually the path led to a clifftop, from which I could see even more of this lake and I was astounded at the height I had climbed and the vastness of the view before me.
There was a column at the top of the path, and I thought if I could walk around it, I would be able to continue the walk, but it was a very slim ledge that circled the column and I became afraid to walk on it, for if I slipped and fell, I would surely disappear.
I tested the corner of the column after peering around it, and it was loose and crumbling. I consoled myself from failure to advance with the thought I had been cautious with good reason.
Soon after, from that slim ledge, around the corner came from my friend Jane, and we greeted each other, sharing our surprise at seeing each other. I mentioned how afraid I was of walking the ledge and she shrugged it off.
We started to walk back down from the clifftop into the autumn light of the forest, and saw litter which I had not noticed before. A broken container of prescription pills, other papers I cannot now recall. Perhaps we began to pick up the litter.
At this point I woke up, still shaky from feeling the crumbling ledge at the top of the hill. I thought of my recent trip to New Mexico when we had gone to the Gila wilderness and walked the path to the cliff dwellings. On the way down, I experienced an intense fear of heights, a new sensation for me. The lack of railing, the sandy footing, the expanse of terrain miles wide and deep--I was truly afraid I would slip and fall and roll down and away.
Perhaps this was the source of the dream I had just had. Was it about my fear of heights, or a contemplation of danger, or a vision of the future? Or was it just a memory of a walk with my friend, me afraid, and she not?
Other memories surfaced. The woods of my childhood as the leaves turned each time one had to go back to school. The view of an expansive lake I have seen in films, or perhaps from the window of a train to Lucerne with my mother who was only a few years from death. The steady forward motion of my friend through the detritus of the past. My own incessant wish for spiritual cleansing by tidying up, ordering my books and papers.
One must be aware of symbols in times like these, I am now thinking in the dry relief of the daylight.
SF, CA 3/1/19