Ideals of a dreamer
I was struggling to grasp a sense of reality in Namibia. Perhaps it was being washed from the hazy collective December psych which lead my quest to become an escape. But what was I running into? Being led by powerful dreams my journey revealed a new centre of truth.
I began by attempting to comprehend where exactly I was. I am not talking about my place on earth, regardless of the beauty which surrounded me I was trying to figure out which state of awareness I was in. You see, sometimes, not always, but sometimes I find myself in a waking state yet my experience is layered as if in a dream. Dreaming while being awake… Have you ever experienced such a sensation?
Dry land broke up like the impermanent pieces of myself. Watching ants dance as they crossed the terrain seemed a poetic reminder of how life is everywhere. Nature has so much to teach. It breathes in a language of abundance.
I recall an adventurer who appeared to have traveled from another time. Our paths crossed at the boarder where his black 1930 automobile was resting. His tangible striking presence was fleeting, and his journey far greater than mine. Ending in Cape Town through Africa from Germany. I thought for a moment what his eyes might have seen as he soaked up what it means to be free.
He lead me to question what we let ourselves be capable of. How many let life pass without an impactful attempt to peruse the sacred desires within? The process of becoming is our divine dance.
As my foot moved through the warm water I was surprised for just an imagined kick caused a refreshing splash on my face. Surrounded by distraction I was floating away. The vast landscape was consuming me. Patterns in the rocks revealed symbols of an intrinsic past, chemical signatures which witness and hold the history of our earth.
Far removed from the routine we let ourselves fall into, a last day of the year started beautifully. We set out to climb a hill of rocks behind the campsite where we rested. The modest mountain held a hidden treasure. Our journey began with a ritual initiation of fire from the sun. We left behind an oasis of compassion. Silence as we stepped closer to the gods. The wind picked up, tears of love as we were kissed by deities carried in the air through the desert. A whispered reminder under a clear sky.
The same breeze touched me again as I lay in awe under the nights backbone. It was not a matter of me reaching out to the stars, but the stars reaching out and grabbing me further into the cosmos. An exploration of reverence put my heart in a state of appreciation. The spirit of the wind is a powerful element constituting a collective of souls. Listen to it, feel it for it has a lot to teach.
Do not be weak and question where the year went for you were in every moment of it. In the divine flow a collection of seasons pass. Ride the tides with mindfulness, be in a state of lightness paying attention to the thoughts you release in a day. Through deep eyes a reflection will be revealed, that is the essence of who you are.
Something in the elements of the year shifted, like the dreams of a child the subconscious is waking up. You are the flowers. Blossom.
Text by David Plenderleith
Image credit Gabrielle Guy