With all my talk about the connection between dreams and love and how we can use our dreams to connect back to our hearts, I realize that some people may be feeling a bit puzzled, since a lot of dreams have content that is not so warm and fuzzy.
What am I motivated to do when I am so painfully reminded that the earth has its own plans for the lands I call “my” home, and there’s very little I can do to predict or control them? I can’t pretend to have many answers, except the same one I’ve been coming back to over and over: nurturing some sense of community and coming into right relationship with the lands and resources that sustain my life.
How do you awaken from the nightmare of climate change and natural disasters? How can humanity cope? And what damage does denial do?
But to truly begin to remember your dreams, first, you have to honestly want to, and second, you have to accept your dreams as they come.
Last week I had one of the hardest dreams I have had in a very long time. The feelings were excruciating, horrifying really, and incredibly real. At the start, I was probably around age 14, confiding in a therapist. Although I am terrified to, I reveal to him that I can see spirit right in front of me. I immediately find myself inside of a small room, and feel that I am in a mental institution. All of my perception is profoundly altered. I am aware that I am taking the drug Haldol, a powerful anti-psychotic medication normally given to people with profound symptoms of Schizophrenia.
The time has come for a new American Dream, since the one we have been dreaming together has become a nightmare. We dreamt of free speech and we got hate speech. We dreamt of the pursuit of happiness and we got students armed with guns killing other children. We dreamt of freedom and we got unarmed water protectors having their flesh burned off by the very same water they are trying to defend.