I have just returned from the NOE class "Carl & Me"...Marc Bregman teachings through an exploration and excavation of the The Red Book, by Carl Jung. It is a terrifying, fascinating piece of work. As always, truth resonates for me.

The teachings tonight brought up many things for me. But it reinforced the place where I am at in my homework right now which is to feel the support and love and teachings of the Anima in the place where I am retching out my trauma and to bring her presence to the place of fear as I approach the scene of the accident.

What I am learning in this work, as I learned in the difficult work of my recovery from addiction, is that the divine will not give me more than I can handle. If it is coming up in the dreams, then I am ready to feel it and know it. And, that I am not alone. The Archetypes continue to show me over and over in the dreams, that I am not alone. I don't have to figure it out, I don't even need to understand it. I do need to have faith: faith in the dream and faith in my dreamwork therapist. As in all spiritual work, we do not go it alone. Another aspect of the teaching that was mentioned tonight. The pathology of my ego is so strong that I could never, of my own will, best intention, or intellectual prowess unravel the mystery of the dream on my own.

Into the Flames

Tonight, I feel into the place of my homework:

To bring my discomfort, grief and sadness to the man in the flames. To be in the sensuality of the flames and let myself wretch out the trauma that has delivered me to this place.

I have felt for a long time something in my body that needed to be expelled. It manifests as dis-ease, a writhing discomfort that, if I stay with it, brings me to the wailing wall. The place where there is nothing but prayer-filled grief. It is a painful place to kneel and wretch. It has been painful to make the pilgrimage to this place, to bring my grainy eyes, callused soles, and my broken heart. Even as He is there, and His flames reach out to greet me, it is not enough to burn away my tears. I want to clutch my rib cage and tear it open, climb out of this body and step over it into the flames.

I see the flames of my own passion, my own desire, my wanting to turn this life over. To feel the relief of Knowing, the terror of not knowing but trusting anyway.

Thoughts on Creativity

The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves. ~ Carl Jung

Last March, out of the dreams, I picked up a paint brush and started painting for the first time. I had no idea that I had anything to paint or even knew how. It was suggested to me through the dream work and the encouragement of my therapist, that I might try this as a way of processing some of the feelings that were coming up for me in the work.

It started like this:

1/7/11 DREAM: I am working on a painting.


Do you love me? If you do, then why can't you accept the way I am? Maybe I am a little crazy at times, but, aren't we all? I mean, I have a right to be angry. Doesn't everyone have panic attacks now and then? I mean, everyone screams and freaks out on occasion, right? Doesn't everyone need to run away, to escape now and then? What's wrong with my silent scorn, when you act like that? So don't get up on your high horse and judge me. I am human. I do have feelings, you know. Why are you getting mad at me, just because I am having a moment? It's really all your fault anyway. If you could just leave me alone when I need to be left alone and comfort me when I need to be comforted. Can't you just take care of me? Is that so much to ask? Look at everything I do for you. Why can't you see what I need? I shouldn't have to ask to be comforted by my own partner. It's the least I should be able to expect. It doesn't matter anyway. You can't hurt me because I don't care. I'm leaving. I am out of here! Why are you asking so many questions, anyway? I don't know what is wrong. Don't you think, if I knew, I would do something about it? Seriously, do you think I enjoy this? Do you really think I LIKE this?? I hate this! I hate feeling this way. And you are making me so damn angry!


The simple fact is, that I've never wanted to suffer. I wanted the highs, never the lows. All pain was placed in the box labeled "BAD" and pushed into the farthest reaches. Fear of pain said "this is too horrible" and pride said "you do not need to endure this". And so, over time, all pain became torture. I experienced it as torture and I turned away in horror. But, in the turning away, I lost sight of my soul.

The NO! in me

I have been avoiding writing for weeks; since I got back from England to face the rage of Hurricane Irene here in Vermont.

The night after my return, I had a dream. In this dream, I was part of the NOE staff working with Marc and Christa and Sue and Bill and others. Then, everyone was killed, assassinated. I could hear myself saying over and over and over, "Oh my God; Oh my God"...