For months now, I’ve had to contend with a growing number of people in my dreams.
Not just that, but more and more frequently I’m getting a clear, unambiguous vision of a person-a different person almost every time- while I’m in the liminal state between waking consciousness and sleeping.
Any of these latter I would recognise instantly were I to meet them in the light of full consciousness – but I have not, up to the present.
(And who is that dude with the beard? He’s popped in more than twice now – I get the feeling he’s quite close)
The numbers of people in my dreams is beginning to resemble a bloody crowd.
A spirit crowd of, not only my, but it seems a number of people’s ancestors.
At this stage, I’m only accepting their presence, and trying to note what it is they’re doing, saying or attempting to communicate – I can’t make much sense of any messages, yet.
I believe that this will come, probably after I’ve become more used to dealing with this huge mass of visually embodied forms in my dreams.
This is something completely new to me – I’ve been able to account for all the people pitching up in my dreams before now, and many of them were of course versions of mySelf.
Because I’m being taught by the Otherworld, rather than by an incarnate teacher at this time, it’s sometimes difficult to know how this incarnated being should react.
And of course there are those traitorous thoughts which march, outlined in hard bright rationality, through my brain, suggesting that this is a symptom of mental illness, and that my mind is coming apart.
OK, well, that may be true as well. Shamanic practitioners have a long history of being considered somewhat loony, so I’m not letting it bother me too much.
There is, after all, that place you come to, where the last streetlight is left behind, the sounds of everyday life are fading into the background, and you’re walking into the growing dark, and silence. But just a little way into this forbidding territory you know there will be, if not the roar of motor cars, at least the song of birds, the whisper of leafy trees, and the ineffable music of All the Spheres.
*Phrase taken from Shamanism: An Encyclopedia of World Beliefs, Practices, and Culture,By Mariko Namba Walter, Eva Jane Neumann Fridman