How do I begin to speak about something that I experienced as so sacred? When I arrived at St. Margaret’s—I sat in that beautiful 100 year old church and I felt the tears pour, tears of awe, as I was sitting in the experience of what I dreamt many years ago—my practice was a little white church in the country. At that time of the dream, I found this beautiful Church and I hoped to one day have a workshop there and here I was. Through many paintings and the purple glass church window that sits in the window of my office, I have also honoured that dream. And of course starting my private practice. As my practice is a deepening into the divine and sacred—not following any creed but where the dreams take me. And my dreams have brought me here—to these beautiful old pews and soft hewed hardwood floors. The smell is of wood, candle wax, cedar and time. The sunshine softly enters in from old glass panes casting a reflective sheen on the wood—light entering the darkness. And I begin to prepare for those coming—both human and from the dream world. This weekend is unplugged as there isn’t any running water or electricity—it is for me like going camping—something else that I hold sacred. So I go outside to set up my camp stove to boil water for tea and a drama unfolds outside in the beautiful church yard. Out of the trees, from across the road--a beautiful baby rabbit tares out of the forest, across the road, past me and through the frost fence into the grave yard and beyond. Stunned, I observe not a second later a weasel after this little creature—but I stand up and say-- “not today weasel” and it halts in its pursuit and disappears back from where it came. This is what the work is—standing up to the weasel energy/critic that would destroy the young soul—of course real weasels of the forest do need to eat and I do not begrudge them this. But it felt like the right way to begin the workshop with this synchronicity, this metaphoric drama unfolding. Setting up the candles and centre alter in our circle added to the air of mystery. I did not want to disturb the beauty of the pews, so I set up our circle at the entrance of the church, the doors opening into our present experience connected to the historic and on further to the ancient experience of connecting with the mystery of the divine.
Everything ready, I sat outside waiting for the coming guests and one arrived on my heart—A beautiful dragonfly landed and sat quietly on my chest. Reminding me I am met and that the divine (I accidentally typed "diving" here as it is a deepening into the depths) is with me. Years ago, I had another large dragonfly land on my heart as I was with a group of therapists; I was not one yet. The dragonfly sat so long on my heart that someone was able to go and get a camera and take a picture of it. A year later, I dreamt the reason the dragonfly had come is that I had been chosen for something. This experience of the first dragonfly happened the summer before I entered Pacifica Graduate Institute to become a therapist. And I knew it came to tell me I had been chosen for this work and that I was worthy of it—something I needed reminding of as when I was with this group of therapists I could not imagine being one--little own competent at it and certainly then, I felt less than those therapists I was present with. But as always the unconscious knows where one needs to go and what one is capable of even if that little old human doesn’t know it! As I still could not imagine being worthy of this work. It being such an honour that people share of their souls so deeply with me. Not only share but trust me to help guide their process with the dreams-- that I hold the lamp until they can. I painted that dragonfly and she hangs in my waiting room--everyday reminding me that I am chosen for this work…
And then the guests began to arrive and mother bear was there to greet each and everyone… and the workshop began with our circle… to be continued....
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