Teaching Is A Dream

Well, there’s two things:

1. I’m teaching the Mutual Awakening Practice Course for the first time in August

2. I seemed to spend the whole night dreaming about it

I’m thrilled to be teaching how two people together can access a consciousness that is so expansive, so loving.  On the other hand, there was last night.  The course will be on Zoom, so naturally there I was, staring at a bunch of rectangles on the screen.  Each one was filled with people – old, young, happy, sad – and I didn’t recognize anyone.  Until I got to the one in the bottom left corner.  Seven people I knew (the folks who will be taking the course?) were sitting on bleachers in a high school gym, laughing.  They were also jumping around and throwing food at each other.  How will they ever listen to what I have to say if they’re moving and grooving, and their faces are full of banana cream pie?

I glanced at a Big Ben floor clock.  It was 7:29 … one minute before the class was to start.  You’re on, Bruce.  Have them see that you’re trustworthy and credible.  And then molasses took over.  I tried to open my mouth but words just inched out, and disappeared as soon as they hit the air.  7:35.  Oh, no!  I’m late.  It’s important to start on time.  I couldn’t find my rectangle … my people.  The other groups were migrating from tile to tile, visiting each other, I guess.  But where had the course participants disappeared to?  Where are you?  7:42.  I poised my finger over “Enter” to start the meeting but the darned digit wouldn’t descend to the key.  

I glanced at the bottom right corner and there were my folks, but they all had their backs to me.  Turn around!  We’re going to start.  No response.  It’s not that I’d lost the class.  I’d never had them in the first place.

Talk some more, Bruce.  So I did.  Nobody cared.  I suddenly realized that my ear buds weren’t plugged in.  That’s why they can’t hear me!  The truth was that I couldn’t even find the ear buds.  I leapt from the couch and into my bedroom, slithering under the bed and turning my neck this way and that to find the double cord.  The only thing to greet my nose were dust bunnies.

Now the bathroom, now the basement …  Where are the ________ ear buds?!  Far from the laptop, I just knew that my students were heading home.  (Sigh)

***

I sure hope August is an improvement

What Was That?

Who knows what time it was … maybe 4:00 am this morning.  I was jolted awake by a dream.  As I hunkered down in the safety of my pillow, the details remained vivid.  A little red dot, swollen, appeared above my right knee.  I wasn’t concerned, but some filmy being was.  He or she squeezed it, and the tip of a silver filament appeared.  They grabbed on and pulled.  It was so tiny in diameter, and shiny.  There was no pain, just the sense of movement inside.  The being kept pulling and the string kept coming.  This seemed to go on for minutes.  A pile of silver grew at my feet, coil upon coil.  Finally the other end left my body and settled gently to the floor.

Woh.

I think I was sweating but I don’t really know.  Eyes eventually closed, the mind sort of settled, and I was asleep again.

Some time later, another jolt: I was holding a very long duffel bag, cylindrical in shape.  It was empty, except for something moving way down at the closed end.  I lifted the bag vertical and there was a fall of objects towards the drawstring opening.  Out plopped a “bug”, about three inches long, with fluttering mauve and yellow wings.  Next was a gooey snake, the colour of wallpaper paste.  It was divided up into small sections by a series of bright red rings that constricted the body.  As soon as it hit the floor, it curled into itself.  Other beings came out of the bag.  I don’t remember what they looked like, but everyone was scurrying around, seemingly in pain.  Were they hiding from the light?

Woh, chapter two.  Both dreams were shot in Ultra HD, and in silence.

When I finally roused myself to verticality, I sought the refuge of the shower.  Thank God.  Then I pulled out my phone and checked to see what CNN was saying about our coronavirus world.  Scrolling down the latest articles of sadness, I came upon one titled “The Meaning of Your Coronavirus Dreams”.  Okay.  That seems relevant to my life.

The author talked about some Twitter posters being “amazed at the peculiarity of their dreams or distressed by plots that center on death, fear and strange new worlds”.  Yup.  One woman shared that “In my dream, I called an Uber, but a hearse showed up instead.”  Alrighty then, time for a sleeping pill.

“According to experts, these cryptic responses are normal.  Our brains’ way of understanding the stressful information we take in during the day can manifest in nightmares.”

So I’m not outrageously abnormal (or am I?)  Our entire beings are being electrified by something that’s new in the world (unless you were alive in 1918).  Let’s all just breathe, and hopefully sleep.

Watching the Mind

I got home last night, tired from a day of travelling. For some reason I unpacked immediately. “Odd. That’s not me.” Except I guess it gets included in the symphony that is Bruce.

I remembered tennis. The US Open is in full swing. Rafael Nadal from Spain and Dominic Thiem from Austria were facing off. Expecting an epic, I started watching. Nearly five hours later I stopped watching, with Nadal the victor. They smashed the ball at each other in 26 degree Celsius heat, with a healthy dose of humidity on top. Stunning! I loved the long rallies, the zapping serves and the deft drop shots.

What I didn’t anticipate was falling into a meditative state for most of the match. It was so similar to sitting in the meditation hall in Massachusetts a year ago. But this was sports … the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. Is it possible that this sweet freedom will keep showing up in my daily activities? Yes, it is. When it comes again, it will be by grace, unbidden.

I felt myself swooning as the games rolled on, falling into a shining place that was totally safe. At 10:30, there was a scheduled live meeting online with members of the Evolutionary Collective global community. I could feel the pull of the group but even stronger was the space of peace within the tennis. I happily let go of contributing to the collective last night. I fed me, and perhaps my stillness reached my internet friends.

I smiled and flowed onto the pillow at about 2:15 am. Some unknown time later, I was barraged by a dream that seemed to go on forever. I was riding my bicycle up extremely steep streets (sounds like St. John’s). There were sculptures everywhere of Tour de France moments: the big group of riders, each jostling for position; two cyclists nose by nose, sprinting for the finish line; two crashed riders lying on the pavement, bleeding; happy onlookers cheering for their favourite; and spectators throwing pebbles at an acknowledged drug cheater. I weaved in and out of these scenes, terrified of the energies in the stone.

Where, oh where, did the peace go? I was being assaulted with mental barbs and whips, and there was no end in sight. I woke up time and time again, drenched in sweat. What evil force was doing this to me?

How can these two poles show up in me only hours apart? My evolutionary possibilities were so quickly squashed by the rudeness of the climb. My mind must be a many splendoured thing.

In the afternoon, I logged on to today’s Evolutionary Collective call. There were about twenty of us. Part of our hour together is a 30-minute 1-1 practice with a partner whom the organizers select. Today it was Arthur. As I listened to him speak, I felt flooded with a huge energy. I soon realized … that energy was love. I had never met Arthur before and I felt an immense wish for his well-being. I wanted his life to be great. I wanted him to be supremely happy. The experience was overwhelming.

***

No travelling today by trains and boats and planes
But I traversed some special territory between my ears

Blurb Burps

I’ve seen books created through the Blurb self-publishing website, and they’ve been magnificent – quality paper and binding, vibrant colours and the blackest of blacks.  I’m so looking forward to Jody’s book getting into people’s hands, so that it may contribute to many lives.

But like any exciting project, there are some hiccups along the way.  I’m including 66 e-mails and 27 blog posts about Jody in her book, plus some new stuff.  I’d say about 95% of the content has been written, but how oh how to get it into Blurb’s BookWright program!  Well, I can get it in there, but the spacing between the lines in one paragraph is different from the spacing in the next one.

Am I too picky?  No.  Jody deserves the best.  I learned long ago that if my work has typos, grammatical mistakes, poor punctuation, or if it looks deficient visually, my message is less likely to hit home.  And I want the love that Jody and I share to reach people unimpeded.  Handle the details, Bruce.

The Blurb rep I’ve been in contact with has been great.  He’s been so willing to consult folks with more technical expertise than him.  I know my problem will be solved, and that Jody will be smiling when she sees the result.  But for now … patience please.

And then there have been the dreams.  A recurring one is that someone else has written a submission that absolutely must be included in the book.  In fact, it should be inserted several times.  I don’t know who the author is, but I often wake up fretting about the unknown content.  Jodiette, is it you, wanting to share your current thinking?  If so, let me know what you’d like, my dear.

I woke up this morning with another dilemma.  A group of kids were working with me on how to describe the book to folks who might like a copy.  We were going to give a presentation to interested booklovers, and ideas were flashing across the room as we prepped for it.  But no one would write down the insights!  Not this kid, not that kid, not the one over there.  C’mon, guys and gals, a volunteer please.  Nope.

That’s okay.  No need to put the cart before the horse.  I can handle any dream that comes my way, but first I’ll continue the editing, write up the new material, and wait for my friends at Blurb to solve my spacing situation.

All for a good cause … Jody reaching the world.