Posts Tagged 'dream'

251. This too will be

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You can probably tell

From my vibes

I see the reality in my dream

Collapsing

And there is something interesting

About the space that opens

Maybe you can see that too

It feels alive

Maybe more alive than it usually was

It almost has a face

And you can feel it

You can almost touch it

With your finger

Will it laugh when you do?

It may laugh

And you will recognize yourself in it

Even though

It is me

And if all that will be left

After everything else had gone

Are these three little birds on a line

This too will be

An expression of love.

231. Yes it is

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I look at my last drawing. The shape in the middle feels like a heavy package with several parts, almost floating heavily in a space that seems to be organized like a room on stilts. There is night in the window and a warm light is reflected from the floor. There is something that looks like a toy on the floor.

Let’s look at the package.

I know there is a man sitting, his back supported by a few things.

There is something with a door on the lower right side.

I’ll leave it up to you.

Maybe the man who sits is asleep?

It is night as we can see through the window. There is a sense of being wrapped in a blanket. The room feels like a dream flying above the space that is underneath.

Not real, heavily asleep while sitting, a lot of air comes in through the walls. A river of light breaks through what should have been solid. Isn’t it like a dream?

 

 

And when he dreams

The room collapses.

The sky and the earth

Open up

Space that goes to no end

Starts here.

You have to dream

To enter the space

Don’t make an effort

The essence

Of the space

Will carry you

If you have no opinion

You’ll become like the essence

Of the space

Is it good?

Yes it is.

You are already there.

Do you have any more questions?

No.

All the answers come to me.

I know all.

I am all.

 

182. Father came to visit in a dream

For some time, faces wanted to come into my abstract drawings. It took me some time to let them in. They were persistent.

Someone appears

Someone appears

An eye and a nose

An eye and a nose

Almost a face

Almost a face

A face

A face

Late at night, which is already the next day’s morning, on 4/2/14 I came to my table to write:

I see now and admire the child, the little child, furious and angry, and taking upon himself to punish himself forever for his belief that he killed his father. He came to my drawings too.

 

The furious child

The furious child

I love him so much and admire him for his undertaking. If I had to choose the child that I could be, this is the one I would choose.

But he is punishing me now.

And even now, when I am almost 70, I am not sure yet: Have I killed my father?

I feel the child’s presence in me or in the same space that I occupy, being some form of energy like me. I am him and he is me.

How do I solve this?

My father came to me this night in a dream, very close. I felt his unshaved beard on my cheek, maybe as I did experience in my childhood. He came to show me that he loves me.  I know he does not carry anger from that time. I met him before.

I wake up and come to my studio to write.

Father, did I kill you as a child? Did you die because I thought that I wanted you to die?

No kid. I died because I had it in my own mind that I would die. You cannot kill anybody really. Every one of us determines his own life experiences.

But I wanted you to die so that I’d have Mom for myself. And indeed you died. So from my perspective I killed you.

You are not real, Giora. “You” is an illusion. All the stories that you create are illusions. No one can ever die in truth, because he does not really exist. So it is like a movie, where one actor shoots another actor and nothing happens except for the illusion that it did.

Do I have to be angry at myself? Do I have to punish myself?

No. You are god playing. And what a story you have created! Your pain is an illusion too. In truth, nothing can ever happen to you. So you had created this horrific story. Now you know it is not real. And you know that you are pure love, still playing in this illusion of life on earth. You can choose differently. You can choose to live happily and healthily. You can change the whole story from its beginning to its end. It is like one of your children’s books. You are in control. Change the story. Make it so that your father lived for many years after the war. Make it so that you have lived with a father who loved you every day. Make it so that you are still loving and laughing together about all the stories that you participated in together. It is my deeper aspect who is talking now.

Look at the whole universe that you have created and keep creating all the time. You can change a little detail in this huge thing. You can understand that it was just a choice of the plot line.

But if it is only a story and not real, why would I want to change it?

For the same reason that you keep changing your story all the time. To make it feel better. To experience other experiences in this illusion game. Don’t you want to see how it is to live without that guilt, without withholding love?

It is up to you of course. But we (My deeper aspect talks as “we” sometimes) want you to feel better, so that you will create better places and lives. Your character does not need to suffer at all.

This child that you were in your story was indeed admirable. You can love him still. And you can give him a better life. Let him learn how to be healthy, how to live without guilt and self-punishment. Let him soar.

156. One poem with three names

1. The Green

2. The Habits and the Flow

3. The Human Condition 

The reds go to the green

The reds go to the green

But he is overwhelmed and afloat

The river flows rigorously by him

And everywhere else

He remembers the river from a dream

 

The browns are curious, supportive and showing the way

Just as the lines of his drawings are

And the Green welcomes them

 

There are golden drops all over the place

I told you he is overwhelmed

I did not tell you it is joy

 

The reds are riding in dutifully

Hoping they are in the right direction

Reminding of biblical tribes of nomads

Who always go to where the green goes. 

A few notes: 

The nomads who follow the green are the subconscious habits that we have. Of course I did not think this when I wrote the poem. You try to escape them by changing your life and there they are with you again.

This is a description of my life at the moment. Of course I did not think so when I wrote it. The lines help me a lot to see clearly.

The joy is all over the place, in the curiosity, in the creativity, in the love, in the beauty, in itself.

The poem has power because it speaks in pre-language. You put words to it but it is the pre-language that speaks.

The river was seen sharply and clearly in a deep state, showing me that the flow of real life is always right here with us, strong and eternal.

Why is the green the hero?

About satisfaction: 

When beauty is created through you there is satisfaction.

It is the beauty that came through, that puts you in wonder, provoking deep appreciation and thankfulness, that you can also call satisfaction.

You feel you did something that is meaningful. You expanded, surprisingly. You have more love now. This is satisfaction.

Do you need anything? No. Thanks. Everything is OK.

152. The shadow

Flying in her/his dream

Flying in her/his dream

He/She

Is flying in

Her/his

Dream

The pillow

Is a man that he/she forgot

A man of peace

And of all ages

The darkness of the sky

Is like a guard

Who says “No” with one finger

The body

Is the secret

 

In this world

There is always a horizon

And when you are flying in the air

Your shadow cuts itself

On the rocks.

143. How things are formed

How things are formed

How things are formed

How things are formed

In the All

With a dance

With a dream

With roots

And with connections.

 

121. Quite here but disappearing

Woken up around 3:30 at night, with the whole body trembling. I feel as if a different energy than my usual is entering my body. Maybe it is a dream and I am only half awake. I want to stay with it and allow the process to happen. After a while it is so uncomfortable that I get up and come to the studio. I turn on the light above the table.

I have been meditating a lot in bed at night. When the pain wakes me up I meditate. I connect with the feeling of “I.” I can experience how the body happens with all that happens in it. It is being manifested into being all the time. And I am watching everything. Then I fall asleep. The drawing is also about moving back and forth between the physical and the non physical.

Quite here but disappearing

Quite here but disappearing

Look

It is light blue outside now

Quite here but disappearing

And that’s the way it goes

The fruit that you are waiting for

Looks like leaves

But it is not

It is the body of the dream

In this cool air

Quite here

But disappearing.


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The healing process

Entries 1-58 show how I use the method of Intuition Through Art to heal myself from Peripheral Neuropathy.