Sunday, January 26, 2014

Desert Meditations and Metaphorical Floods: The Good Typist Goes All Woo-Woo New Age on It

Last week, feeling lost and disconnected, I took a walk to the Locks to be around herons and trees and water. It didn’t help much. All my reaching out for something--some wisdom, some deeper, knowing voice within--only served to increase my angst and sense of loss. Several days later, our kitchen sink flooded. Floods always occur in my physical space when I’ve been in a state of deep emotional distress or imbalance for too long. When the internal imbalance becomes too much, the energy is forced to turn outward and manifest physically. When the sink flooded, I knew that it was about more than just a defective hose. It was about an overabundance of the water element in my life.

A few nights ago I had a dream that I was living in the desert. I had traveled there to be a nomad and seek some spiritual solace and meditation. There was a loose community of other nomads around, but I was more or less on my own. I was sitting down next to a bonfire when two beings on mopeds started speeding towards me very aggressively. I couldn't see their faces because they had full helmets on. I was worried they were going to attack me, but instead, they circled around me, threw three carved quartz figurines at the ground in front my feet, and yelled, "Pay attention! We've been trying to contact you!" Then they sped off. In the dream, I studied the figures very intently, trying to figure out what the carvings symbolized. I think at least one had a snake head on it. I don't recall the details very well, but they were each carved with distinctive figures that seemed to be combinations of gods, goddesses, and animals. One was pink, one was pale green, and the other was a sort of smoky quartz. In the dream I knew this contact was important, but I didn't understand the symbols in the carvings and I wasn't sure where to begin.

I’ve had a lot of watery energy in my life lately; a flood of emotion and a sense not of drowning exactly, but of being pulled under. I have surrounded my work spaces with water—at home, a 3-gallon fish tank for my Beta, and my beloved jellyfish lamp.  At work, a blue ceramic fountain that dominates my desk. But the dream was of long dry expanses, of sand and heat and fire. Even the beings on the moped wore suits and helmets embellished with red licks of flame. Maybe I need to drain the emotional pool, dry out the tiles, lay down some sand, and perform a good old-fashioned fire dance.


 --Kristen McHenry

1 comment:

John Socrates said...

Very metaphysical post, kind of spiritual and supernatural, too, I think. The very last sentence seems like very good self-advice. We all need to do stock and inventory of ourselves from time to time and get rid of the baggage and reassuage the positive. I think it's good to avoid what my mother often would exclaim when she was having a particularly bad day: "Stop the world, I want to get off!"

Read "Breathless" by Dean Koontz if you haven't already. Or "Sole Survivor," my favorite. They will reassuage you and make you feel good. The best kind of good. :-)