Just after 22:00. Thought I’d open the Iris of Time and see if anything happens. It’s been a while.
Just blackness with a little unevenness in lighting. No color. The little white light is not here either. I try to sink into the darkness, but up close. Try to see something personal. Still no images, but I sense something beyond the darkness. I just can’t reach it. Sort of like reaching into deep water for something just beyond my grasp. I focus and limit my internal dialogue but also Ray Charles’ song runs through my mind. The end of an amputated finger, scared and uneven. Seeing images takes concentration, like solving a math problem. I’m getting close. Lots of movement.
Then I fall asleep.
02:00. I’ve had either two dreams or one dream that metamorphosed into another. I’m in a building with a few people who have gathered at a point of departure. Something has happened to us getting here, and that is the most important part of the dream, but of course, I can’t remember what it was. But whatever it was that happened causes us to start retracing our steps. A young woman leads us. I feel affectionate toward her. She and I get ahead of the others, and we stop to wait for them. But the place where we are is filled with people. It also seems that the young woman and I are affectionate toward each other. Perhaps we kiss. I don’t remember for sure.
In the second part of the dream, we (and I don’t know who ‘we’ is) are discussing a mission to Mars and talking about a capsule that would take us there. It would be a capsule for one person. Not so many people around. The person who would go to mars is here. She is rather old, and not very good looking at all. She works among some animals, chickens in coops, I believe, although possibly also sheep or goats. We are saying how impossible it would be for anyone to go to Mars.
Then the dreams end.
I’ve not been able to remember my dreams lately. Since my mother passed away, I’ve not been able to do Active Imagination. I just don’t seem to have the energy for it. I’ve been sleeping well at night though. Sometime as much as ten hours.
I’ve been thinking some about Active Imagination. I read somewhere about the Gnostics. I believe it was in either The Other Bible or The Nag Hammadi Librari. They wrote a lot of scripture, and not all of it was considered valid, because some of them, it seems, were making up their writings. But some of the Gnostics believed that anything they wrote, even if they made it up, was valid, true. This of course sounds a lot like they were practicing Active Imagination. It seems that they believed in this process, and that anything from the imagination was inspired, something from go God, or at least something from the divine world. I must research this.
Once again I open the Iris of Time, step out into the darkness. I shift my vision to a slightly darker place, one with a little activity although so little is going on. I do see some flashes of light in my peripheral vision, but then it dies out. I see the little light, but it’s rather dim and unusually slow in movement. Another flash of something across my field of view. I’ve been getting those flashes frequently lately when I’ve tried Active Imagination. Now the field has gone completely blank. Seems I’ve totally lost my touch when it comes to Active Imagination. Am I experiencing the equivalent of writer’s block? It seems that writer’s block may be a necessity and a result of the psychic state we are in. I don’t believe that we have depleted our resources from the Collective Unconscious, but that for some reason, our ego has shutdown the information flow from the Unconscious, perhaps as a protection from it. Whatever the reason, writer’s block may mean that we need to spend more time in the real world. It might be like running for a long distance. We have to stop to rest at some point.