Emerging from the cocoon this past week (see this post) has been both exciting and disorienting–my first “wild weekend out” in a long time was to go to an art show, to Chinatown (to shop and swop compliments with old ladies), and then to a holistic fair, where I promptly got buzzed out of my head meeting everyone, and had severely disrupted sleep for several days. I was “hopped up” on energy and over-inspired, perhaps because I had my first psychedelic experience without psychedelics, courtesy of Guy Harriman’s Ajna Light. What I got to see in my 5 minutes under his unique invention was if Alex Grey had painted an infinite number of Star-of-Davids and hearts. The heart shapes might have been confirming I was looking at endless fractal expressions of the heart chakra, all with sear-your-brain florescent colours. I felt utterly clear, lucid and “plugged-in” when it was over. (I didn’t try any healing sessions at the fair, feeling afraid of another healing crisis! I think I’m good for a while!)
A Dream of Recovering my “Core”
Not long after my “wild weekend”, I had a dream of moving into a new house, bigger than what I was used to but still modest. I found myself on the higher floor (of the two-storey structure), in a suite of rooms belonging to my daughter. There was a bedroom within a bedroom, and I claimed the inner bedroom as my own. Entering it for “the first time”, I found it already filled with my own forgotten objects, but I was focused on finding one thing in particular: A thick and tightly-wound roll/scroll of paper covered with my handwriting, the size of my fist. It had a “hollow” core about 20mm in diameter, and wrapped around it were long strips of writing paper that almost looked like shopping receipts–but they were my own lists and instructions, tips and wisdom of how to get through “anything”.
In the dream, I had created this scroll “a long time ago”, to get ready for events I suspected were coming now. I found my scroll–I had previously covered it in cling wrap, proving its importance… and my sense of practicality. In the dream, I started unwrapping the plastic, reading the scroll, unrolling it as I went. I woke up at that moment, with a strong sense that I had recovered something important put away a long time ago. Tightly packed important information that was wrapped around and spiraling toward my centre. I still find the symbolism absolutely beautiful–and I am inspired to follow that spiral inwards.
How this will all translate to what I see in my waking life, I’m not sure yet. I’m grateful to my real daughter though–not that I think the bedroom suite in my dream was really hers, but it was me entering the space of my inner child–dreams can be quite literal like that, especially when it feels right.
Children in real life do help us observe and examine our own childhoods and the unconscious lessons–both empowering and false–that we absorbed from our environments growing up. Conscious parenting on our parts can be done by realising that the false ideas and fears that we had prior to parenthood do not need to be passed on. By becoming aware of them and setting the intention to heal from them, we can heal our inner child, and maybe even recover our “core”.
And my favorite behavior of children is how they follow their passions without fear–just love, and complete abandon.