Dream, painting and poem

We were at Kanuga Conference Center for Dream Group Leader Training and started the whole business of learning how to help people invite the dreams to help them hear God speaking to them through the Collective Unconscious. Training is based on using Jungian Depth Psychology and Spiritual exercises to interact with the Right side of the brain where we move out of the rational analysis to more of a encounter with the language of symbol, myth and art. Instead of just writing notes for the Right side of my rational brain- I tried to write a poem and paint a picture. I am not a good poet and I have less talent for drawing but I have to stop the critic and welcome the vision.

The painting is of a section of a dream I had where my father and I were driving at night through the North Carolina Mountains- which we never did together in his life. The road was all torn up and I was driving the way I did when I lived in Boone- too fast as a way to impress the “ flatlanders”.  There was a bright blue barrier and a pale buckskin horse that ran across the road. The horse had a yellow blaze on its flank with what looked like a softened square root sign. My father said he needed to paint that scene- and I took it as since everybody in the dream is me I was being invited to paint. It was so helpful since when I painted it and then asked the painting questions, I found that my unconscious had a whole different reaction than my rational mind. It opened the dream up to whole new insights. 

 

Kanuga Dream 2013

 Also I had some free time and as an introvert needed to get away from all the talking with other people and then went out to canoe on the lake and wrote a poem about it. It goes;

Kanuga Sabbath 2013

Paddler wore a hat to keep

Burn away and doctor happy

J- stroking canoe while sun reflected

Paddle dipping in lake cool water

Lilly blossom bursting on pad

Turtle sliding into deep watery safety

Woken from turtle dreams, that’s if they do,

Off fallen logs sodden in place.

Yet the canoe glides on-

Glides on

Invading the quiet as paddler

Flees the noise to share

Presence with selves in non-language,

Tongues, gills, and bills unknown to

Yet bouncing beyond tympanic membranes

Beneath shared sub-persona sharing.

The paddler retreats to center in greater power

To find true self