I am sleeping longer – moving deeper into the dream realm, where powerful messages bleed into my waking hours, their residue clinging to my eyelashes, my skin, my thoughts. I am becoming familiar with their intrepid ways, enabling me to observe my experience – and this new space – differently. 

I dream that a dark figure is chasing me. But the chase is interrupted when the stranger is bitten by a small black spider. I watch the body of the stranger as it collapses, shrivels, dies – eventually turning to dust and dirt. I lean down and feel the dirt in my hands – cool, moist, and mixed with blood, bones, and bits of clothing. I need to ingest this dirt in order to complete my task.

It feels strange to be moving deeper on an inward journey in the middle of summer. The long, sunny days are luring me to play, to socialize, to be light – but I resist. The cool walls of my own internal dwelling seem to offer respite from the heat of the sun. 

Like the ancient Sumerian goddess Inanna who descends into the underworld, I am making my own journey, releasing pieces of myself at each of the gates – beliefs, behaviours, fragments of identity. “You do not need them here.” She whispers. “Let them go.”  The unveiling has begun. ...Continue