Wounded in life, I seek to staunch the wounds of others . . . . --xoj

"Jack Spratt’s two centavo Guide to Redemption”
©2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved

God's tapestry, all creation, my greatest value an attempt to live/love for: in gratitude, mercy, forgiveness, regardless of Age, Race, Creed, Gender, Gender Proclivities, or Generosity . . . seeking to make redemtion salvation & resurrection potential in all unique, precious, individual lives, human, plant, animal, world. . . .through words & images - Jack Spratt ... KISS

Saturday, June 22, 2013

dreams conflicting

Since my return from St. Johnsbury VT, typically, I am down by eight or so, awakening by dreams, some four or so hours afterwards. I then either write them down and/or weave back and forth between quotes and the dreams; often finding affirmations/definitions of the dreams content.

This time/date I forestalled recording the dream. It was serial, about the Southwestern Desert lands concerned with Native American funereal symbols representative of various people and their past lives in a museum setting. Disconcerted to discover several new and some missing from previous dream visits. It has been and remains a mystery to me and part of my attraction to New Mexico, for me, a place of significant spiritual power specifically.

Where normally I would work through to dawn, I felt sleepy and returned to bed, where I dreamed another sequence. Actually two: one for the second time and the other a third. Both equally disturbing. The first I am employed scraping gunk from peoples lungs—emblematic of myself since I continue to smoke cigarettes. In the second I am late for an appointment startled to realize it was a test given by a superior; a scolding man who bowed to my indifference, which in reality is my terror of being proven an idiot and unworthy of life. Humiliated I folded my arms refusing to comply.

Apparently I am undergoing traumatic change, struggling to adapt and move forward towards a surprising, actually astonishing new life, formerly unimaginable to me. Possible or probably only in the literary sense of a created ideal scenario. Add that my method and memory reminds me there were, throughout yesterday, numerous omens and portents that I considered briefly. Which it now seems primed the pump of my dreams, which seem now more significant than my brief summarizes would indicate.

Throughout history there have been people inspired to record their dreams; acting between ordinary and extraordinary time on the cusp of creation.

Out of sleeping a waking, Out of waking a sleep.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson . . . indicative of my sense of integration between a chaos of indifference and sanity . . . or should I say joy and equanimity? I often think of my heroes and their experiences and conclusions. What they gave that we, you and I, or the all of us, might fully live, versus merely exist.

My greatest joy in the ordinary of life has been to discover the talent/genius of others and nurture it, if only by affirmation . . . sometimes merely the attention I give in silent awe. Rapt and reverent. In this process have discovered a desire to follow no one, individual or system of their consequence in history. but seeking and finding, I believe, what they sought.

I could record/annotate the flurry of quotes affirming my sense of purpose, but will not bore you with them. For I remember too well my confused abandonment of their potential meaning being too conscious of my fear that I was unworthy of what they implied. Yet now see potent within all, even those who persecute and assassinate what is inconvenient to their truths. For which, I at one time, would have been equally guilty.

In gratitude for these thoughts, I sense myself obligated, for what was freely given, to pass forward the possibility implied. Fully aware that where I go will be better, different in kind and degree, influenced by the affirmations of she toward whom I return.

I am incomplete and in order to grow I must move forward, leaving behind much of what I once thought would complete the process. The process itself seems to indicate that it is well, what I do. And to whom I go. Wringing out all the fears I knew nothing about previously. To fail this is to fail my essential self.

I own nothing, save myself, finding it unremarkable, this that writes, attempting a self-exorcism. Aware better now, better tomorrow, the energy or personality listening to me is available to all; the Thou, as in I/Thou.


130622 MDT 05:13 conflicting dreams

© 2013 by Jack Spratt—All Rights Reserved

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