This is an amazingly fresh take on dreams and their possibilities, both positive and “negative.” The idea is that there is a place, overlaying part of our planet, which only certain people called dreamhunters may enter; other folk just keep seeing the same view of earth, while the dreamhunters enter a completely different land. This Place is not mapped in the same way as we usually map things, by geological entities but, rather, by the type of dream which the dreamhunters can “catch” there and then bring back to share with others in places called dream palaces. While some of these dreams are nightmares, most are at least benign, while many are comforting, exhilarating, and/or healing. There is a second book in this “duet” called “Dreamquake”; I’ll review that book when I have finished reading it.

My recent experiences (with being released from work, and dreams which pointed me to my new kitten companion) remind me of a client I knew who had an amazing dream that changed her life: “I was riding around town in my father’s car.” Doesn’t seem like much, but I asked her what kind of car it was: “A Chevie Impala.” Knowing that an impala was an animal, I encouraged her to look it up in an encyclopedia: “An animal able to leap great distances to avoid danger, but only if it can see where it is going to land.” This was, basically, her father’s motto: “Never quit one job until you have a new one lined up.” She had been driving around in this car, this motto, even though her current job was sapping her energy, her strength, her joy for life. As soon as she read about impalas in the encyclopedia, she went and resigned, and within a couple of weeks she had her dream job. May we all be so blessed!

Most rainbows look like they are coming to earth far away. A few years ago I saw one in Spring Green, WI, that seemed to be landing just behind the hill right in front of me. Last week (1/11/12) I saw a double rainbow in downtown Asheville; the inner, brightest one looked like it was coming down to earth just yards from me, as though I could step right into it. I feel like, since being “released” from my job, I have stepped into the labyrinth of joy which is leading me directly into that rainbow. I am aware of increased energy, and others are commenting on it: “You’re more animated,” “You seem happier,” “There’s something different about you—definitely in a good way.” I don’t know what’s next; only what is NOW, and NOW is pretty wonderful.

I’ve been taking Trip outside on a leash (he’s too small and impulsive to let him go alone), and he acts like a Jack Russell terrier—leaping and straining against the leash, and pulling me along to a path in the underbrush where I have seen rabbits run. A far cry from the meditative walk I used to take in the labyrinth with other cats, primarily Willow. (See picture.) But I absolutely love Trip’s enthusiasm and energy, and use it as a reminder to engage that energy in myself whenever possible.

At a full moon meditation a few nights ago, I got the message to stay in the ecstatic state I was in directly after being released from my job for as long as possible. Part of what helps me find my way back to that space is gratitude. Sunday (which used to be a primary workday for me) I was in gratitude all day, as I was able to participate in events, both scheduled and non-scheduled which, if I had still been working, would have been impossible for me to experience, from an artist reception to a Playback Theatre event, from dinner alone at a favorite barbecue joint, to the full moon meditation. Even though I would have been off of work in time for the meditation group, I probably would not have gone, as the work (and workplace) sapped my energy physically, mentally, and spiritually. I am so grateful to have this time to rest, recuperate, and rejuvenate as I walk through my life’s labyrinth on the way to whatever else lies on my path.

What promises to be “The Labyrinthine Trip of 2012″ actually began somewhere around Thanksgiving of 2011, when Clive, the cat, disappeared, leaving a huge space in my life. Another huge space was created when, on December 26th, I was released from my part-time job at a fabric store. Although I had thought I needed that job (for its salary, and its employee discounts, which fed that part of my life where I’m a fiber artist), in the moments immediately following my release, and ever since, I have felt quite ecstatic and grateful. I immediately took some time to rest and relax, and then think about how I wanted to fill that space which had been created. I’m still working on that, and will be using this blog to write about how this part of my journey develops. The next major development came on New Year’s Eve day, when two friends, separately, emailed me about discounted adoptions at the local humane society. I discovered I had only 2 hours left to take advantage of this and, although I thought that after nearly 2 full days most, if not all, of the cats would already be adopted, I took a shower and drove over. I began by looking for Clive look-alikes, and there were a couple, but both were too stressed out to be able to take them out of their cages. It wasn’t until my 3rd time through that I finally became aware of a 4 month old black male (my favorite type of cat) who was the spitting image of a former cat companion at that age. And his name was Trip! How could I not take him home with me, where he has brought in an energy I haven’t experienced in over 20 years—the kind of playful enthusiasm usually only exhibited by the youthful members of any species. He purrs incessantly, plays constantly, and brings one of his toys over to me when he wants interactive play. To put it succinctly, he is a trip, and I expect I am in for quite a ride this year, with Trip as one of my guides.

Truth be told, this story begins back before Thanksgiving, when my indoor/outcoor cat companion Clive (a very large tabby) went missing. Around that time I had two dreams: I was clearing out a tunnel system which allowed two former black cat companions (Castor and Pollux) to go in and out without me opening a door for them; I was about to leave my house and heard a noise which, when I opened the closet door, turned out to be an emaciated cat who was a different color than Clive.

Eventually I determined that Clive had passed into the spirit realm, and I began my grieving process. I also knew that I would look for another cat, perhaps a reincarnated Clive, very soon. It began to be imperative when my house became overrun by mice. I looked at one shelter and found a cat who was nearly the spitting image of Clive. This cat, named Boogie, came immediately to me the first two times I went to visit, but did not budge on the third visit, and I left him there.
On New Year’s Eve, I got the message from a friend that the Asheville Humane Society was running a special on adoptions—$12. I had about 2 hours to get there before they closed.
Once again there was a cat who looked almost exactly like Clive, but he was unhappy and wouldn’t greet me. Given the lateness of my arrival, most of the cats had already been adopted, and it took several turns through the shelter before I really noticed Trip—the spitting image of my two black cats, Castor and Pollux. And, at age 4 months, he seems very small and emaciated compared to Clive. My two dreams were being played out before my eyes.
Those dreams, his color (my favorite), and his name, all led me to decide to bring him home with me.
It’s quite a change to have kitten energy in the house again after about twenty years with adults. He is lively, playful, energetic, enthusiastic—a true delight; just the kind of Trip I want to be on myself in this new year. And he seems to be quite happy to be a part of it.

The labyrinth is not only my favorite tool for meditation, but it is a basic metaphor for all of the work I do—as a coach, fiber artist, and writer. The labyrinth brings us in to our center where we find our light, wisdom, joy, and the leads us back out again. Whether you walk it, trace it with your finger or eyes, or simply lay one across you, the energy of this ancient pattern is palpable. Let it help you live your life from the inside out.
Follow_The_Light_clip (Find more of Daniel Barber’s music at: http://www.danielbmusic.com/)

Last year I sent out a recipe that is a Thanksgiving favorite (Butternut Squash Strudel); this year I’ll do the same. It’s called Cranberry Catsup, and I got it from a friend many years ago. I have no idea where she got it, but it changed my experience of cranberries completely; I never did like the maroon blob that comes out of a can. Fresh cranberries, cider vinegar, and a few spices make all the difference:

Cranberry Catsup
1 12oz package cranberries
1 C. water
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 C. honey
1 C cider vinegar
2 t cinnamon
2 t. celery seeds
2 t. salt
1 t. allspice
1/2 t. cloves
1/2 t. pepper

Cook water, onions, cranberries ‘til boiling; process 1/2 mixture (in blender).
Stir in remaining ingredients; cook until thick, ~ 1/2 hour

This is one of my contributions to Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners at friends’ houses; I hope you like it as much as we all do.

And enjoy this music video (Dream) by the Cranberries, while you are at it:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yam5uK6e-bQ&ob=av2e

In spite of my excitement to join my family/friends in WI, I always approach a major trip with a little trepidation and reluctance to leave my home and routine, this year even more so because of the fact that my current cat companion, Clive, has been missing for nearly three weeks. He’s done this before; shortly after his arrival at my house (at age 4 or 5) he went on an eight day kitty walkabout, so I know he has the chops to survive. But three weeks is a long time, and I am worried that he will come home and find it empty and just keep on going. I have friends looking out for him, ready to take him in, and I keep sending him loving thoughts—I am so grateful to have found him and be sharing my home with him—but I am worried, nonetheless. So here is an “ode” for Clive:

I was looking for a cat, but not for him,
A tabby staring at me from my vet’s wall
With a caption reading, “I need a home.”
I found, instead, a black beauty named Hades
Who reminded me of a previous friend
But he was taken from me after just 45 minutes.
Back at my vet’s office several weeks later,
Clive, from his picture, continued to call
“Pick me, pick me, pick me.”
I made the call, and went to meet this fellow
Who, unlike Hades, seemed aloof and carefree.
I told his human, “If he is here when I return,
I will take him home with me; we’ll see.”
And this outdoor enthusiast was there,
Cried all the way home but,
After sniffing around for 15 minutes,
Came and curled up in my lap.
The agreement was this:
You get to be who you are, and I will be myself,
And within that container the bonds of love grew.
Now I cannot imagine life without his loving nonchalance.
Please, Clive, pick me, pick me, pick me.

Complete trust