This is another attempt at documenting my inner landscape. Let's hope it sticks this time. Each narrative is related in a larger whole through journeys into the dreamtime. My goal is to make the stories relatable and inspiring, and leave some personal details out of it. Dreamwork is pretty easy, all you have to do is close your eyes.
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An inner voice impelled me to sit down, and then turn to face a closed door, and next to close my eyes. I found myself flying on the back of a peregrine falcon past a stream of colors. A great owl was ahead of us, and time stretched as the tiny falcon and I encircled his enormous shoulder to face him. The owl, not gently at all, said, “Wake up, the phone call is for you, stupid!” He then touched the tip of his wing feathers to the center of my forehead. Light began to beam from the touch and swirl all around us. Then the owl brushed me with his wings, as if removing dust from the space all around my body, clearing out my aura. I remember thinking how much I want an owl wing. As I am thinking about wings, he traces the place under my arms where my wing feathers will grow. He tells me that when I get back to the real world I will be able to fly. Then the owl pauses, examining my arms. It is as if something is missing from among my invisible-as-yet-ungrown feathers. “Where are your pinions?” he asks. With that question, I resurface.
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