‘Working with keys is always meaningful,’ Holmberg said and smiled, ‘Locking and opening is, in a sense, man’s very purpose on this earth. Key rings rattle throughout history. Each key, each lock, has its tale. And now I have yet another to tell.’ -Henning Mankell

In this life book, words have been written, and once in a while, a picture adds to the meaning of them. But all in all, each word on every page fits together in some way. This way is the path to my heart. Each of these passages remind myself of the times that the passions and intrigues were folded together and painted the way they came to my heart, soul and mind. This book is not just any book, it is the book that tells the reader there is one life to live on earth, but the memories, values and talent of people passed by can live on for others to take part in. There are original poems -some simple, some complex. Prose flowers on pages also. Journal entries and lines of favored writers flourish on some, and on others only a trace. Advice from experience and hopes for what there could be coming are dabbled here and there. Some words might seem strange and others downright crazy -but this is my self- the being which lived and experienced, which will continue to look upon things with curiosity and care, and wherever I go in life this will be brought along and written on. And once these pages are filled, that does not mean my life is completed or if I die before the blank pages are filled with ink, it only means one part is filled and others will then have to be started.  Life Book entry July 1st 11:15 p.m. (18 years old)


“Words are employed to convey ideas,
but when the ideas are grasped
we forget the words.”
— Chuang Tzu


All this information, knowledge we have always had, then events happen, words are forgotten, and then ideas are lost for a while. All along the way, however, people have had a felt sense, as Eugene Gendlin called it, about the truth. Ivan Turgenev wrote,


…truth is like a lizard; it leaves its tail in your fingers and runs away knowing full well that it will grow a new one in a twinkling.


And that truth, whatever it is, hits us all like a chord and it harmonizes with us from time to time. We seek that truth with an inner compass that continually, respectfully, questions and considers experiences, decides and takes the best route through challenges, obligations, responsibilities. I call it integritty. Over the years it has helped me be patient, push through obstacles and pull away from snares. Integritty has been my guiding force to True and Right. It was this integritty that made me realize I needed to quit my previous job. The organization I had been working for was moving in a direction that did not align with my professional compass.


I also knew my workaholic self had sacrificed too much. That I had lost some of the best parts of me along the way. My family life, hobbies, and my health had been deteriorating. It was during sleepless spells, working nonstop to meet deadlines, then crashing for a few hours, that I had my first episodes of exploding head syndrome. I had always been an active dreamer, but increasingly I was plagued by dreamless sleep… or so I thought. When a person experiences a lightning strike they are most likely not going to forget it. Those first episodes were my wake-up call.


I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they’ve gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind. -Emily Brontë


I made a decision to start changing how I did things. Get enough sleep. Exercise more. Spend more time with family. Reach out to others on matters that meant the most to me. Revisit old journals and get back to being more creative.


My teenage journal entries were filled with urgent hopes for a brighter future…but also there were traces left, reminders where I would go… It still leaves me speechless when I read some of my old poetry, how it was guiding me then, and led me back to where I needed to go.


An ancient city
filled with secrets
yet to be found or
never to be found.
Each day that passed
I felt you close to me
I envisioned you
in the mist of ruins
You desperately seek
for a way out
but you see no passage.
Then you see I am there with you.
yet, you do not come to me.
You stand staring off
into the distant horizon.

February 14th midnight (16 years old)


…displaced memories
are wrapped around me
the untouchable
wanted more and more.

March 3rd 3:33 a.m. (22 years old)


“The map is not the territory.” -Alfred Korzybski


As I slept more, I dreamt more. As I dreamt more, I remembered more. Each dream I had, I tried my best to recall. But as any oneironaut knows, the remembered dream is not the dream itself. I reread journal entries, did reality checks with waking events, and when I could, reentered my dreams… those dreams that shocked me to my very core. The more I reviewed my journals, I realized the wide spectrum of dreams I had, many which were waking dreams. Conscious dreams. Those fleeting, incomplete dreams we have just as we are falling asleep, or just as we are waking up, as we linger between asleep and awake. When we are going about our daily routine and have a flash of a scene that disorients us momentarily. Daydreams… and those dreams when we are asleep and realize within the dream, that we are dreaming.


For those who have the symbol, the passage is easy. — Johann Daniel Mylius


Some of my dream messages slipped through my fingers, others stuck. I tried not to dwell on a dream too much if I couldn’t figure it out at the time. Some dreams stood out, and the symbols that sunk in, that I continued to write down, I saw they tied in with the knowledge I had gained throughout my life, from my unique perspective.


I’ve always known dreams mattered. Recording and revisiting dreams had me looking at situations and circumstances from different perspectives. They helped me be more open-minded.


The ancient Greek author of Oneirocritica Artemidorus once said to interpret a dream well is a “gift of resemblances.” And many of my dream symbols had trickled into my waking life.


Any path is only a path, and there is no affront, to oneself or to others, in dropping it if that is what your heart tells you… Look at every path closely and deliberately. Try it as many times as you think necessary. Then ask yourself, and yourself alone, one question… Does this path have a heart? If it does, the path is good; if it doesn’t it is of no use. -Carlos Castaneda
 
Newgrange, Ireland The Entrance Stone  ow.ly/G55NA

Newgrange, Ireland The Entrance Stone ow.ly/G55NA

I focused on my symbol. Leaves. Why was this key? Tree of Life… It’s present in so many cultural traditions, one which had always fascinated me: the Celts.


The symbol, like a seed, is a beginning, which, like the symbol’s presence in a dream -imagined or waking reality- contains or is a part of layers of meaning.

Layers folded into layers, like a shoot that bursts forth after the dreamer revisits the dream through a dream report.
To get a clearer picture, to get closer to the matter at hand, I repeatedly reentered my dreams, called out to my partner, and the more of the dreamscape I saw, the shoot unwrapped and revealed more and more of itself. By revisiting my reports, waking events and newly acquired information caught up to what my reality was.

I continually added to previous knowledge, and understanding branched out to a fuller latticework of connections…

Celtic Knot Design

Celtic Knot Design

Celtic Tree of Life

Celtic Tree of Life

…and a tree grew.

My dreamspace came to life.
If you look closely at a leaf, you notice each individual cell looks like a key, a square spiral. Each cell fits together, communicates, works with adjacent cells…efficiently unlocking, opening themselves up to receive light, energy… then sharing, releasing something different, something sustaining… for the survival of the whole.

Left: Celtic Keys — Spiral Tile Pattern Right: Close-up of a Populus Leaf by Oak Ridge National Labor ow.ly/G56LX

Left: Celtic Keys — Spiral Tile Pattern Right: Close-up of a Populus Leaf by Oak Ridge National Labor ow.ly/G56LX

Labyrinth at Meis, Galicia

Labyrinth at Meis, Galicia

I meandered back and forth from journal to journal and around from the present back to the past… into Red Book, Life Book, Book of Days… and looked ahead to the future. Others start to transition to this reality. I questioned whether it was one partner I was communicating with or several… For some reason, I was uncertain fairly early on whether or not I was in contact with one or more people… later, I discovered, I had partners — plural. Knowing the trouble I had starting out, in the future, I see others who will experience this same uncertainty, winding their way through a confusing labyrinth.

These newcomers need to find clear passage, something to hold onto, a tether, someone to tell them they are who they always were, just with enhanced sensitivity to hear, to feel, to see beyond their physical, emotional, mental self. They needed to know the key is sharing.

And so, I have something to leave behind. To share.

Field Guide

journal started 01 June 13:40 (41 years old)

Reflection Recorded 17 December 20:36 (41 years old) :

…Although now I don’t need technology to communicate with whom I’m in contact with, technology initiated this extraconnectedness, it jump-started what happened to us. We all had certain qualities, and those attracted us to each other through this common link. We were exposed to the same information, even if each of us stored or remembered, related or applied that information in different ways. Our sensitivity to each other was amplified. We became more aware of each other. We were brought together to interact in the same space, discussed the same information in our own ways, and all along strengthened our ties.

Although we may never have met these online acquaintances, they are like lifelong friends or loved ones for whom we are able to finish their sentences, or somehow think about calling them…and then they call. We understand and respect their points of view, we feel for them, we are moved by what they write, we love the images they post, what they say in a video… we sympathize, we empathize… and somehow we start feeling what they feel… We sense their movements… we anticipate their thoughts. Lines of communication are opened device to device through transmissions, and similarly we are attuned -person to person- to each other’s frequencies, to bursts of energy, to each other’s stream of consciousness. And we sync, our likeminds connect. We form bonds that grow stronger, more efficient, and they continue to branch out…

 

Navigational Tool: The best way to go after a dream is to let the dream find you. – A Wandering Mind

 

Tree Heart 6 June (41)

Tree Heart 6 June (41)