Very tired this afternoon. Went back to bed to rest. Fell asleep for a short while. Woke and started an AI session:
I’m alone in darkness when I sense something, someone move past me. She comes back, up close. It’s a woman struggling. She gasping. It’s the girl, the woman I’ve come to called the Pythia, Phemenoe. She hugs me, then moves away. We’re in water, the sea. Somewhere in the Aegean.
“What’s the matter?” I ask. I can tell she’s not well.
She’s swimming away from me. “Follow me, David,” she says. “Follow me.”
We swim to shore, and then we’re inside a recess in the cliff, perhaps a cave.
“Hold me,” she says.
I put my arms around her. The warmth of her love flows into me as it did in the dream weeks ago. We lie down side by side.
“Love me, David.” she says. “As you did before.”
I hold her to me and I can feel my love flow into her. I feel her love flow into me. We lie like this for a long time. Loving each other.
“Let your love flow into me, David. Feel my love flow into you.”
And I can. I can feel the love leaving my body, feel her love entering mine.
“Now feel my love leaving my body, feel your love flowing into mine.”
And I can. I feel her love leaving her, feel her love receiving mine.
Following her directions, I now move my head, here in the real world, start to move it back and forth, left to right.
“Loving me, loving you,” she says. “Loving me, loving you. Then it reverses. Loving you, loving me. Loving you, loving me.”
Over and over, we repeat the matra.
And then she has me nod up and down while moving my head from side to side, in a circular pattern. We’re no longer saying it. I’m just feeling the flow of love. I’m just going up to the right: loving me, loving you. Coming down to the left: loving you, loving me. Over and over.
Then I reverse the cycle. Going down to the right: loving you, loving me. Coming up to the right: Loving me, loving you. Over and over.
“We’re restoring our love, David,” she says.
And then I realize what is happening. This motion is the motion of the dark and light dots from back on 23 May. We, she and I, are the two dots, the figures in the final diagram, the yen-yang. She is my black dot, I am my light. She is her light dot, I am her dark dot.
“My love, your love,” she says, “one love.” We repeat that together, “My love, your love, one love.” We repeat it over and over.
“My world, your world,” she says, “one world.” We repeat that together, “My world, your world, one world,” We repeat it over and over.
Then she has me look into her eyes. I seem to see through them into another world, a strange powerful world of both dark and light figures, beings moving about, strange beings in a strange world.
“That is my world,” she says. “And I can see your frightening world through your eyes. But it is one world. ‘Your world, my world, one world,’ she says, repeating that part of our matra.
“Your world, my world, one world,” I say.
“And all brought together,” she says, “and encapsulated by your love, my love, one love.”
We are lying close together, holding each other, loving each other, just feeling the flow of love, with me wondering about that world that lies beyond her eyes, and the world she’s wondering about lying beyond mine. I just soak up her love, and give her all I mine. We lie there for an eternity in that primordial landscape, mending our love for each other, our one love. She seems well again, content.
And then the session ends.
I realized several years ago that I had lost my ability to love. I haven’t been in a relationship for twenty years. I’d wondered what had happened to it. It seemed that it had died. The women in my dreams that I have mentioned before on this blog, came to me for years, and were a comfort, but I could never say that I loved them. Then one night, they just disappeared. I had felt a great comfort in their presence. But back on May 13, I felt love again, and it came from that girl who wrapped her arms (who I’ve come to call Phemenoe) around me and caused me to feel what I had not felt in many, many years.
It seems now that that was the meaning of the light and dark dots that appeared out of the mountains, the ones that circled each other and formed the yin-yang symbol. It seems that that was also the meaning of the searchlight a few days ago. Perhaps that was her searching for me, and me searching for her. And today, this afternoon, my consciousness somehow migrated to that land I associate so much with the primordial landscape, and finally we came together again. She had been in the water all that time since the flood of the session on May 24. I finally found her.
I’m not so pessimistic this time. I’m learning to accept what happens in these sessions. And I don’t have any of the problems concerning the session of which I just wrote, nothing about it being too much like writing fiction. I was totally involved in this, and I wasn’t making any of it up, nor did I even worry about that while it was happening. This is it. This is the real process. This is Active Imagination.