Sustaining..myself

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I have always been and will always be a solitary practitioner.

When I was 16, I wanted to be a hermit because I thought all people were cruel and stupid.
But being a human makes me crave companionship. So I dreamed of a cabin in the forest where I was self sustaining with a garden, chickens and goats. Alright, so I needed to go into town once in a while to trade for a few things. Get my fix of human company and news before heading back to the wild.

"I know God promises not to give me more than I can handle. I just wish he didn't trust me so much."--Mother Teresa--


Life can be a challenge.
This has been a rough year, for me at least.

This past week put me on notice. I have graduated from a teacher's guidance.
It stung a little bit to be shoved out of the nest but tough love is still love.

I was forced to take stock of myself which can be a very scary thing. My dream world never fails me.

In the dream, I learned how to fly using simple tools. A basket I could sit in, a sage bundle and a large cloth to catch the smoke. It was like making smoke signals but I flew on the smoke.
I was so excited! I had to find my shaman friend and show her how to do it. But every time I tried to go to her, the magic failed me and I called her on the phone. Modern magic is cool too.
She told me that I needed to teach this skill to other people first. When I tried, I couldn't seem to explain myself and the simple technique. People laughed and called me crazy. I began to cry.

Sidebar: I might be good at written communications but I sometimes wonder if I'm speaking in tongues. I try to express myself in words but what I think is a good explanation comes out as something completely different than intended and people get upset with me. I used to dream of being a mute too. My loose cannon mouth can do a lot of damage when I don't want it to.

Back to the dream. There I am, crying and feeling like a failure when someone I have come to love very deeply appears. He makes the mean people go away and I explain what I was trying to teach them. They had broken my basket, tore my cloth and stomped on my sage bundle.
My very dear, friend helps me find another "basket" which turns out to be a large, cardboard box that fits the two of us. I fix the sage bundle as he goes and finds another cloth. The new one is a beautiful, batik sarong.
I teach him how to fly and he has no trouble understanding my directions. In fact, he begins to finish my sentences and we both work the magic and fly to a deserted house where we light a fire and sit. Watching the stars and roasting marshmallows.

Now, I have had a while to chew on this dream and think about its meaning.
What I got was another story.

When I was very young, I had spirit guides who were teaching me. What plants were good to eat and how to speak to animals. The world was a magical place and I danced though it joyfully.

Something terrible happened to me and my spirit was shattered. I could no longer hear my guides though I could still speak to certain animals. It has been a long journey. Picking up the shards and slowly putting myself back together, spiritually. There are still a few cracks and chips but I'm dancing along the path. Alone most of the time but I hook up with fellow travelers every now and again and we share stories.

It's all good.