Free spirit always lights me up
in the darkness of my thoughts.
Free spirit and magical,
you’re the hope inside me.
–DJ Raaban, “Anima Libera”
Last night, I think I had another dream about her. Unfortunately, I don’t really remember, I just woke up recalling a sort of . . . well, I don’t know how to put it into words. It was like looking back on a long day and realizing I didn’t remember anything about it, as if I’d walked through a mansion but remembered nothing of the rooms, or strolled through a garden and remembered nothing of the flowers.
Oh, I don’t know if I should care anyway. It kills me, you guys, it really does and I don’t understand why.
Really getting into Hinduism has been rough. I knew it wouldn’t be easy but my reticence is growing and I fear my resolve will go along with it. If I want to move forward in my spiritual path, I feel like I almost have to do it. There’s something here to learn.
But I had a dream a few weeks ago that made me feel so violated I’m hard-pressed to continue. Dreams are often just dreams, and my reaction has been silly. Perhaps writing about it will help.
The night I had this dream, I read the Shvetashvatara Upanishad–which is about the Lord of Love (who can be pretty much any god you want, but in this case the epithet refers to Shiva). I felt an extraordinary emotion run through me, then a sharp pang of female jealousy. Which is interesting, because that implies to me that male jealousy also has a distinct feel to it as well. Or perhaps it doesn’t. Moving on.
I went to bed and had a dream. In this dream, a woman was saying something like “nobody can move without him”.
Then I was in an evergreen forest. They might have been pine, or perhaps deodar. I don’t really know trees.
Shiva was standing with his limbs close to his body against one of these trees. He was mostly white, with brighter white marks, some blue, and some red. I couldn’t see him very well, which is pretty normal for me. I mean I don’t see well in dreams, nor do I hear well. I sense well.
For some reason, I’m reminded of Shiva in the Daruvana. For sure, the deodar trees (a kind of evergreen tree) were the setting of the Daruvana. Which is a bit disturbing, since Shiva in the Daruvana was definitely on the “less benign” side of his multi-varied nature.
There were numerous stone people in the forest. Shiva darted around, bringing them to life with a kiss.
The dream ended with a close up of him kissing someone–I don’t know who.
And I woke up feeling like my space had been desperately violated. I took a few hours to process this, then, on my way to work the next day, talked to Shiva about it. I mentioned how it bothered me, and how I wanted to take things even more slowly.
I can’t have people invading my space like that, not when I don’t know them. And for all I know it was some vague ghoul come to haunt my dreams, not Shiva. Despite that, I’ve not felt the same fondness for the blue-throated god since then (although I still like him quite a lot) and in that loss, I find myself filled with more . . . confidence and respect, I guess. I’ve had to take a step back and try to really think about where Shiva fits in when it comes to the grand cosmos and while that has increased my admiration in many ways, it has not increased devotion. It has increased my reticence.
“Maybe you are searching among the branches, for what only appears in the roots.”
I’ve moved into my beautiful new apartment. I’ve never lived in one that featured a fire place. It’s a nice fire place, with a sturdy wood mantel above it. It’s there that I’ve placed my two Bast statues and the Het-Heru statue that reminded me of Bast until I took it in my hands and got a very strong feeling that it was not Bast.
It feels more like a home.
No idea where I’m going in life but, having climbed my first mountain and traveled flatly a long way, I find myself at the base of another mountain, this one steeper and rockier than all the others. It is a mountain with which I’ll contend, even though there’s a large base camp filled with people like me who couldn’t be bothered or were otherwise too fearful.
I’m in an impure time right now, so I’ve been holding off on devotions. I could direct devotions to Goddess (I’ve always found goddesses more sympathetic to “that time” of the month), but to whom can I direct these devotions without thinking of Bast? To me, Bast has always been like Lalitha, Parvati, Durga, Kali, and so many others. How could I worship them with any feeling or devotion without thinking of Bast. Given time I can figure out how Lakshmi, Sarasvati, and virtually any other Devi remind me of Bast. It’s not a thing I can shut off or forget.
Someone once raised a thought with me–and I myself have thought of it, too–that perhaps I’ve been worshipping Devas all along and now that it’s time they’re trying to reveal themselves along with the next stage of my path. It seems a bit exotic to me, as if I were important enough to warrant such an undertaking.
In Hinduism, the idea is to find the form of God–the monistic God, not an individual god–that appeals to you most. If that’s so, then I found the form that appeals to me most a long time ago and it’s difficult to go against what the heart commands. I was curious if I could figure such a thing out at my age, and so I poked into dark corners thinking I’d find something new, only to be bitten by a viper. Since then everything I’ve touched has been poisoned.
Call off the cap-com,
tick off the time bomb.
Let felicity fly!
Armor the airlock,
blanket the bedrock,
and kiss the planet goodbye.
–Owl City, “Galaxies”