“The wounding of land and creatures reaches to the dream world… and beyond it to impoverish the dreamers as well. Yet there is still time to intervene…but the time is right this instant…” ~ Clarissa Pinkola Estes
I give honor to those who dream while using creativity as a lens through which to view the infinite universe. Inventors who imagine the impossible, those scientists who seek to discover, those poets who organize the words, and those artists who give shape to the vision are the ones who make it possible for the rest of us to begin to lay hold of that which lays just beyond the reach of our mortal minds.
The Mighty Divine works with these brave souls to reveal bits of God-stuff that cause us to look skyward and wonder: Is there indeed a great author writing this story? And has that Author-on-high, seeming at once gentle and cruel, caring and indifferent, determined the outcome for every player and their dream in advance? Or are we, composed of the glistening particles of stars, set here and told: Go on now. You are made to partner in all of this. You can do it. Just get on that bicycle and start pedaling.
Has it all been worked out in advance, or is yet to be decided—the great and glorious winged fate of our people and our earth? I much prefer to believe and live my life within the context of having a role in a drama which has not been predetermined and that who I am and what I do can have an impact. Thus my continual fixation on “meaning making” and my commitment to my visions, and the dreams of others.
“The work of a visionary is to remember the past, dream the future and take powerful action in the present.” – Shiloh Sophia McCloud
Some say, there are no accidents or mistakes. This is a seductive concept, but I do not believe it. When I step out of my door and promptly squash a tiny ant on her way back to her mother’s house with a crumb from someone’s yesterday sandwich, an accident has occurred, along with ten million other accidents and mistakes of which I may or may not be aware and have little power to prevent. When my destiny collides with another’s as in the case of the ant, as in the case of a marriage, or a life long friendship, or a business partner, or a total stranger, accidents and mistakes do occur. We may spend our lives healing from some of those “mistakes.”
The Holy Book reminds us from ancient pages that we are indeed, responsible for one another, and in fact, that our greatest gift would be to lay our life down for another. I have come to think (and Jesus reminds me) that the willingness to lay one’s life down for another informs some part of any truly great dream.
Dreams of great import always call for involvement with others, include the workings of one another’s lives in our own. When I am working with others on their visions and dreams I ask them to imagine the WHO. Who is it that this vision they are stitching together may be for? About? What will it inspire? You are the heroine or hero, so your personal fulfillment is the natural result of the dream coming true in real time. What is this life, if not about creating something meaningful that we all might feel a part of the great and beautiful dance, even amidst the suffering?
“Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends. And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.” ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.
Suddenly one day, our dream will dawn on us and we will have that sought after sense of belonging to something akin to, well…the universe! The call may come, sweet and low like a bird swooping over the water. That bird’s presence is reflected in the ripples of the water. Let us ripple and reflect the presence of our dreams and when we are ready, put our boat out on that water, and sail off on an adventure, together. We will navigate our course by the stars. Explore wild places. Sail into the sunset. And of course, find that wonderful satisfaction that comes from knowing, we are indeed, a part of this miraculous circumstance we call life.
We are our grandmothers’ prayers. We are our grandfathers’ dreamings. We are the breath of our ancestors. We are the spirit of God. Y.M. Barnwell
Yesterday I scaled a small mountain with my family to scatter the ashes of my grandparents, Helen and Cal Davis. Prayers were said. Roses were laid. The Lord of the Dance was sung and my sister and I spilled our tears into eachother’s hair. A hunk of rock and a bit of sage I carried back down the hill in my pocket. My Uncle Geoff’s
walking staff was my third leg as I slid down the mountainside in Woodacre’s green. Remember how I say that cowgirl boots are good for everything? Well not mountain climbing. It was a sheroe’s journey of some kind and I am still coming down…sliding along…missing the smell of my Grandmother’s perfume. I can hear her laugh still. And she, spoke to me many times, about what I wanted to create with my life, what my dream was, and always encouraged me towards that – never questioning how it would work out or if it was profitable or if it would make me happy – she supported my dream and gave me courage.