(No Subject)
Holding it in my outstretched arms, I put my head in it.
Sokuzan’s image appeared, cross-legged in his floating robes.
He was laughing; it made me laugh.
Then it turned to tears.
He became a hollow bronze statue that came down to fit on top of me.
I was him.
He handed me a big ball of space.
It was a blue sky with clouds on the inside…and out.
Holding it in my outstretched arms, I put my head in it.
Next, my head disappeared or became so much a part of the space as to be indistinguishable from it.
Email exchange about this dream
On Feb 2, 2012, at 12:22 AM, Nuala Clarke wrote:
Wait a second… It wasn’t a dream! It was during a visualization.
On Feb 2, 2012, at 12:30 AM, crystal gandrud wrote:
…which brings up the ever-fascinating question of what a dream is…
On February 2, 2012 12:32 AM, Nuala Clarke wrote:
I saw a documentary film last week on that very subject.
The Edge of Dreaming. A Scottish woman dreams of her horse’s death. He dies, then dreams of her death. Shamans.
(Sometime during this exchange the ipod shuffled and the phrase “For as long as space endures” from a talk given by Crystal Gandrud on something having to do with meditation pierced through a momentary crack in Björk.)
Question: Do the dead dream?