Dream Anew

Think anew
Dream anew
Write anew

Something like this phrase was waiting for me on the edge of dreams. At the intersection of REM and the kitten's meow. It was 4:40 a.m., CDT.

The first association that came to mind was "Think in new categories." I think William Blake said that. Well, you know what they say — if it's witty, Mark Twain probably said it; if it's mysterious and mystical, Blake probably said it.

At any rate.

I had a hard time getting to sleep last night. My heart rate seemed to be up. I don't know that I was worried. Maybe I was excited because I had gotten some good news earlier that evening. On the other hand, maybe I was worried, for I had gotten some bad news in the mail.

I read a whole chapter in the book I've been very slowly reading for the past couple of months. I allowed my feet to be attacked by a certain purr factory. I laid down, tossed and turned for about 30 minutes. Decided it might help if I read some more. It was 11:00, late by my standards. I read another chapter. 11:30.

I played solitaire on a hand-held. I felt tired, but restless. 11:45.

That's when I decided to pray. I practice what Ron del Bane (et al) call a Breath Prayer: "Lord Jesus, make me whole". I have prayed this prayer for so many years now, at so many different levels of belief, that it does seem always at the edge of consciousness. I was still feeling mildly restless, so I used a technique my Aunt Ki taught me when I was about 12 or 13.

Callie Fay, who we called Ki, was into new age type stuff even before it was called new age. She was learning meditation techniques early on. The technique I'm thinking of originally worked like this: look at a light bulb for a minute or so. An after image of the light will remain after you close your eyes. Try to move that image around; try to make it change color. As you move it, the goal is to position it at the point between your eyebrows — the classic third eye.

After some time of playing with this technique, I discovered one did not need to stare at a light bulb (which is bad for your eyes anyway). Just as one could "move" the after-image, and make it change color, one could imagine the image.

That's what I did last night. Oddly, the white spot first seemed to appear about 60° to the right. After some concentration, I moved it to the third eye. All this time, I'm also still praying "Lord Jesus, make me whole."

The white spot finally settled at the third eye. Then, it seemed to grow; it seemed as if I was diving into its brightness. Or, perhaps it was the tunnel of light seen in Near Death Experience. I had a physical sensation of warmth, being bathed in the light.

Soon, I was asleep. Perhaps this was prayer. Perhaps it was self-hypnosis. Doesn't matter. The bottom line is, I slept deep.

And, although I did not get to sleep until shortly before midnight, I woke between 4:30 and 5. And there, in my mind's eye, was a poster with this phrase. The phrase that begins this long ramble. The poster was a style popular in the late sixties/early seventies: large times roman lettering, in multiple colors, in squares of contrasting colors, all primaries and pastels. I can't seem to describe it now, but it was there.

One word per line. Each phrase defined by a different background color.

And what does it mean, as I proceed into a new day?

Think anew.
Dream anew.
Write anew.

It seems both a challenge and a promise.