(Saturday, September 21, 2013) The Dweller on the Threshold has been very present in my waking life in the last couple of weeks.
A few mornings after the King of the Vampires showed up in dreamtime I got a $129 traffic ticket for crossing the double white lines into the Sane (carpool) Lane. Even though there were two of us in my car.
That afternoon the big boss at work, Jane, gave me a brochure for the “Crossing Borders” studio tour in Duluth and Superior.
On Monday of this week I got a return call from an instructor I had contacted via email about her Qigong classes. I’d read a really good book that recommends supplementing Tai-Chi with Qigong. My Tai-Chi teacher doesn’t teach Qigong, so I found this woman on the internet, who started her own center in south Minneapolis in 1977.
She pretty much read me the riot act, in a cold burn sort of way. She informed me that her teacher told her to never take on a student that has another teacher. I got off the phone with her feeling completely poisoned and shamed. I decided to go to Mni Owe Sni (Coldwater Spring), the sacred springs near Minnehaha Falls to cleanse and purge, as my friend Jeanne says.
When I arrived during the noon hour, eagles circled overhead. I had never been to the site before, so I took a long walk through the prairie grasses and woods. There is one large spring that flows from a pond down to the river, and several smaller pools that do not produce streams. One of these pools was hidden behind a low hill, and I stumbled upon it just as I was getting ready to leave. As I drew nearer to the pool, I recalled a dream from a few months ago where all the senior members of my Tai-Chi center welcome me into the family. Perhaps it is something deeper than etiquette this angry woman was trying to impress upon me.
The shallow water of the tiny pond (more of a puddle, really) was encircled by flat rocks; two mourning doves were sitting on one of the rocks, but they flew up and away as I approached. I sat on their rock and removed my shoes, dipping my feet, hands and face into the clear, beautiful water.
I considered the significance of the doves on the rocks for several days. Two doves appear on the family crest of our Sheehan clan (my maternal bloodline includes Irish and Native American ancestors). An interpretation of mourning dove symbolism from the web: “the veil between spiritual and physical are at their thinnest.” Also, “the primary symbolism of the dove is that of patience and tenderness. Their voice along with the soft hue of their bodies, and the tender glow of their eyes – all lead to thoughts of softness, tenderness and symbols of love.”
Tuesday is Tai-Chi day and at the end of our class my teacher passed around an eagle feather he brought back from his 10-day solo canoe trip in the Quetico (the Canadian provincial reserve that mirrors the Boundary Waters Canoe Area). A new beginner’s class started at 7:30, following our usual 6:30 class. I saw that Eric Christopher, the past life regression hypnotherapist I visited this winter, was in the new class. That struck me as another expression of crossed borders.
Yesterday I was listening to the IASD conference DVD in my car. Research was being presented on “boundary thinness” and its effects on dreams and daydreams. People with “boundary thinness” are more creative and have higher emotional content in their dreams, whether sleeping or waking.
It is interesting what has been happening in your waking life and the dream you shared about going to a new job-no more grief and shame. I am really glad you found the pool with the mourning doves. I don’t quite get the angry teachers, both yours when you talked with him and the woman who teachers Qigong. My only take is that it is practice to not take on other’s anger. As a teacher, expressing anger to a student is counter productive and just mean. It sound like you are right there at the threshold, feeling deeply and taking care of yourself. I love that the doves are on your crest. And that you saw the eagles. You have support there!
Bonnie, thanks for taking time and for your wise insights. One thing I did not report is that my teacher has been very supportive in the last two lessons. He is making corrections to everyone and not focusing on my errors. I heard his voice in my head on Wednesday morning: “You’re already there.”
Living with Chris and his level of depression means I need constant practice in not taking on his and other people’s anger. I grew up with angry people and you know what that is like.