I wasn’t always someone who paid attention to my dreams, or even remembered them very much.

The moment I really started dreaming came at a major turning point in my life, and it arrived with a dream that shocked me so much that I could remember it clearly for weeks.

In the arena of wellness and healing, transformation, self-development, spiritual practices attuning to seasonal change/change in general, etc, there is a rather common prompt: What are you ready to release or let go of, now?

In your dreams lately, have you noticed any invitations into movement? Physical gestures the Dream presents, that you could explore with your body?

It’s too easy to overlook these invitations, or to not notice them at all.

Earlier this summer, I had a dream that I was at an event where Trump was the invited guest speaker.

One of the first things my cervix taught me was to soften into courage.

When your pap smear comes back HPV positive with a CIN III diagnosis, the closeness of your own mortality can shock you into a very different state of presence with life.

The other week I had a dream–

I was at a beach, about to go swimming, carrying a dive flag but no other equipment. Some spearfishermen with all their gear looked like they were going to enter the water in the same place as me, but I got in ahead of them.

I’ve introduced you to one of my dream companions before, and now I want to tell you about another one.

Her name is Sandy Turtle.

She came to me in a dream with an abusive ex. I was no longer dating this person, but in the dream we were together again, standing in shallow water at a beach.

Suddenly, Sandy swam up to me and pushed into my belly with such force that I was carried away as she swam me off.

There have been three distinct times I can recall in my life that a stranger has started talking to me about Jesus. Two of those times were while I was on an airplane. Each time has felt strange, but the second airplane encounter was outright hilarious, in my opinion.

Adrienne Maree Brown posted the picture above in a recent meme round-up post. Call me naive or idealistic, but when I read these numbers, my panic about the future of the world is met by a surging belief that our dreams must be part of the solution.

At different points in life, I have sometimes been my sister’s grief guide, helping her to create ceremony to grieve. Recently, after a synchronistic chain of events that led me to have to say goodbye to my ‘98 Corolla and upgrade to an ‘04 Corolla, I remembered a time when I helped my sister say goodbye to a Subaru that had been passed on to her from our grandfather. 
Remembering the depth of her connection with that Subaru made me think of my own connection with my ‘98 Corolla.

My most dominant pattern with crushes has gone like this: 
1. I find out somebody likes me
2. I go way too hard in reciprocating the crush until
3. I’ve drowned the flame and they don’t like me anymore

Oftentimes, in the spiritual realm of work I do, people will experience a trickle of doubt coming in the form of this question:

“Is this really something that’s happening or am I just making this up?”

One thing has been helping me calm my nervous system this week:

Pretending I’m living in a world underwater.

This is a feeling that’s very familiar for me personally—in my peak diving years, I once swam down to 90ft underwater on a single breath of air in my lungs alone, and hung out around 110ft below with a scuba tank another time, plus countless other dives immersed in the ocean.

As you may have noticed, I’m having a lot of fun over here with this experiment of creating a business out of my creative/spiritual/dream guidance.

You may or may not also know that I am a bit of a rebel who is always looking to do things differently than the rest, including my approach to business.

There’s a story that’s moving through your life right now.

There’s a story that’s moving through each of us.

Because we are humans, obsessed with story. We might call it one of our oldest and most intimate technologies.

I invite you to join me in this peace training/”field study”/sitting practice, and I invite you to do it in your own way. In your own places, in your own timing, for your own reasons, and with the love in your own heart for our one precious more-than-human world.

When I first started studying dreams about three years ago, I received a very special dream.

On a catamaran-style boat with lots of other people, in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by hammerhead sharks.

The other day I had one of those intrusive memories that made me cringe.

What is the biggest benefit of tending to a dream?

That the dream itself feels acknowledged, heard, and honored.