As the day of my departure draws near, I notice my dream life intensifying. The dreams continue to inform me and aid me in answering the questions: What longing or wound calls me to embark on this pilgrimage? What is my intention? Why such an adventure?
In the dream, I jump in a taxi and suddenly realize we are near the street where I grew up. Excited, I ask the driver to take a left and we are driving along the street where the brook flows. I exclaim, “See that brook down there!? That’s where I spent the most magical times of my childhood!” I am so impressed by how lush and pristine it all looks. The water is flowing even more abundantly than I had remembered and the trees were bigger and greener and create a huge canopy over the road. I think how wonderful and surprising it is that this natural place of my childhood still exists — that is has not been destroyed by development. As we drive along there is water everywhere and it is as if we are driving in a river. I am excited to arrive soon at the house I grew up in and I wake up.
The dream was so vivid of those halcyon days of youth spent outside. I remember well the “big tree” I used to climb, the “glen” where water dripped down a little waterfall (I wonder now if that was real or a man-made fountain?) and the wilder places beyond our suburban yard. When I was eleven I was told we were moving to New York City and I remember crying for weeks when I heard the news. While I eventually adjusted and loved the city life, I am keenly aware that this rupture of my intimate relationship with the wild world at such a tender age is a wound I have spent much of my life trying to heal. This dream visited reminding me that I am still seeking expression of this connection, this deep love. Can pilgrimage, protest and walking contemplation heal me and, in the process, contribute to the healing of the world?
Posted by westendroad | Filed under Uncategorized