On Monday, I woke from a spectacular dream with a knowing smirk on my face . . . "I get it," I said aloud not only to myself but to the entirety of the Universe, and immediately went right back into its rich imagery and the story it was telling.
I am standing on the bank of a beautiful river whose current is swift. I've just come out of a protective thicket of trees and stand staring at the call of the waters. This goddess of a river seems to be chanting "Dive in, dive in." At this moment, I also hear footsteps behind me, and turning, remember that I was leading a throng of people to this river bank. Looking back, I see dear loved ones, friends, students. They all followed to this place--to this moment.
Standing on a large rock (because, you know, I'm a goddess of the short variety, and, alas my dreamworld didn't change me into a fantastically long-legged goddess), I called out to everyone,
"We've arrived! This is the place I told you about! Jump in!"
As I spoke, I saw a few looks of trust, but mostly, I saw eyes filled with horror. I changed my stance on the rock so that I could see both the throng and the river. Revealing themselves, emerging from the water were many crocodiles and snakes. They were basking, swimming, slithering--doing their reptilian thing.
"No worries. Those guys are no problem! I know these waters. I know these creatures. You can trust me, they won't bother you at all. In fact, they're quite nice." But, try as I might no one budged. No one accepted my invitation to jump in. Looking back and forth from the throng to the river and from the river to the throng, I knew there was only one thing I could do that would get even one of them to dive into the creature-filled current . . .
I had to dive in.
I had to swim with the snakes.
I had to ride the backs of the crocodiles.
I had to let the current carry me and engulf me.
And so . . . off the rock I jumped. Emerging from the water, once again, I called out to my companions, "See, it's fine. We're totally taken care of. Dive in! Dive in! Who is with me?"
Many of those who had come so far with me, through the woods all the way to the river bank decided that they were happy with the journey they had taken, but this was the end of the line. It was absolutely too much to ask to jump into the swift current . . . not to mention the very dangerous demons lurking about. Nope, back into the thicket they turned.
Others, decided that the bank had a beautiful view and began sketching plans to reside there to watch the current, to maybe wait . . . and . . . see . . . you know . . . if I got eaten alive. Then maybe someday later they'd come in for a swim.
But some. Some accepted the invitation. They trusted. They jumped whole-hearted into the current with me. And we frolicked.
Now, I'm sure a Freudian analyst would have much to say about my crocodiles and snakes. But oh, that's so dated. No, they would never understand the rich tapestry of imagery within my dream from the perspective of a yogin hiding in plain site--from the perspective of (watch out! scary word coming!) tantra. Which is exactly why I smiled and smirked upon waking.
My beautiful river, was, of course, the outpouring of Consciousness into the world as Shakti. She is at once always the same and ever-moving. Both essence and flow. She is the paradox of herself. She is sara, the flow of grace; the power of Conciousness; the promise that we will be held even within her swift current.
The wriggling, writhing, slithering snakes are (hush up Freudians! this is my show!) Kundalini Shakti, the unrivaled empowered unfolding of Consciousness into and as every fiber of our being. She who coils and stretches us from within. She who sometimes is so subtle we don't notice her undulations, and who sometimes stirs so wildly that we KNOW she has penetrated into new territories of who we are.
The ancient crocodiles . . . they are kula. They are our chosen community. A community of the heart and of the practice, for the crocodile is born of community. Eggs are laid close together--there is safety in numbers after all. Each future croc alone in its hard little shell waiting, listening. You see, crocodiles have a special little tooth that they use to free them from the boundaries that they have now almost outgrown. The tooth expands the boundaries! They listen until a lone "tap tap tap" begins the process. One begins, but then they all join in the tapping, until they have hatched into community. And! As if this isn't fantastic enough . . . they march right into their waiting mother's mouth and she herself carries them into the river, opens her mouth, and releases them into the currents of Grace.
I'm not standing on the banks any longer. I am taking the plunge. The current is faster than the one I was in before. It's more fun, and sure, probably more dangerous. There are crocodiles and snakes, but they are beneficent--they are my community and my own innate power. I know this is going to be an awesome ride in the currents of Consciousness.
"See, it's fine. We're totally taken care of. Dive in! Dive in! Who is with me?"
I am standing on the bank of a beautiful river whose current is swift. I've just come out of a protective thicket of trees and stand staring at the call of the waters. This goddess of a river seems to be chanting "Dive in, dive in." At this moment, I also hear footsteps behind me, and turning, remember that I was leading a throng of people to this river bank. Looking back, I see dear loved ones, friends, students. They all followed to this place--to this moment.
Standing on a large rock (because, you know, I'm a goddess of the short variety, and, alas my dreamworld didn't change me into a fantastically long-legged goddess), I called out to everyone,
"We've arrived! This is the place I told you about! Jump in!"
As I spoke, I saw a few looks of trust, but mostly, I saw eyes filled with horror. I changed my stance on the rock so that I could see both the throng and the river. Revealing themselves, emerging from the water were many crocodiles and snakes. They were basking, swimming, slithering--doing their reptilian thing.
"No worries. Those guys are no problem! I know these waters. I know these creatures. You can trust me, they won't bother you at all. In fact, they're quite nice." But, try as I might no one budged. No one accepted my invitation to jump in. Looking back and forth from the throng to the river and from the river to the throng, I knew there was only one thing I could do that would get even one of them to dive into the creature-filled current . . .
I had to dive in.
I had to swim with the snakes.
I had to ride the backs of the crocodiles.
I had to let the current carry me and engulf me.
And so . . . off the rock I jumped. Emerging from the water, once again, I called out to my companions, "See, it's fine. We're totally taken care of. Dive in! Dive in! Who is with me?"
Many of those who had come so far with me, through the woods all the way to the river bank decided that they were happy with the journey they had taken, but this was the end of the line. It was absolutely too much to ask to jump into the swift current . . . not to mention the very dangerous demons lurking about. Nope, back into the thicket they turned.
Others, decided that the bank had a beautiful view and began sketching plans to reside there to watch the current, to maybe wait . . . and . . . see . . . you know . . . if I got eaten alive. Then maybe someday later they'd come in for a swim.
But some. Some accepted the invitation. They trusted. They jumped whole-hearted into the current with me. And we frolicked.
Now, I'm sure a Freudian analyst would have much to say about my crocodiles and snakes. But oh, that's so dated. No, they would never understand the rich tapestry of imagery within my dream from the perspective of a yogin hiding in plain site--from the perspective of (watch out! scary word coming!) tantra. Which is exactly why I smiled and smirked upon waking.
My beautiful river, was, of course, the outpouring of Consciousness into the world as Shakti. She is at once always the same and ever-moving. Both essence and flow. She is the paradox of herself. She is sara, the flow of grace; the power of Conciousness; the promise that we will be held even within her swift current.
The wriggling, writhing, slithering snakes are (hush up Freudians! this is my show!) Kundalini Shakti, the unrivaled empowered unfolding of Consciousness into and as every fiber of our being. She who coils and stretches us from within. She who sometimes is so subtle we don't notice her undulations, and who sometimes stirs so wildly that we KNOW she has penetrated into new territories of who we are.
The ancient crocodiles . . . they are kula. They are our chosen community. A community of the heart and of the practice, for the crocodile is born of community. Eggs are laid close together--there is safety in numbers after all. Each future croc alone in its hard little shell waiting, listening. You see, crocodiles have a special little tooth that they use to free them from the boundaries that they have now almost outgrown. The tooth expands the boundaries! They listen until a lone "tap tap tap" begins the process. One begins, but then they all join in the tapping, until they have hatched into community. And! As if this isn't fantastic enough . . . they march right into their waiting mother's mouth and she herself carries them into the river, opens her mouth, and releases them into the currents of Grace.
I'm not standing on the banks any longer. I am taking the plunge. The current is faster than the one I was in before. It's more fun, and sure, probably more dangerous. There are crocodiles and snakes, but they are beneficent--they are my community and my own innate power. I know this is going to be an awesome ride in the currents of Consciousness.
"See, it's fine. We're totally taken care of. Dive in! Dive in! Who is with me?"
