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The dreamworld as teacher has again and again expanded my experience of reality, including my relationship with death. I've had many teachings about death come to me through the dreamworld. Some have been personal (about my mother's transition or friends' deaths) and others have been more global teachings. In this short video (6 min) I talk about how the dreamworld can expand our understanding of reality, while sharing specific examples from some of my dreams about death. Thank you for being here.
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Dreams can be our teachers! Really and truly. I've had a rich dream world for most of my life. When I began documenting my dreams (decades ago, now!) the dreams began to shape shift into clear lessons and downloads.I began receiving series of dreams, with lessons embedded in them. I began being aware I was dreaming within my dreams (lucid dreaming). On a big picture level, the dreamworld has helped me to expand my understanding of reality. On a micro level, I've received guidance, reassurance, teachings and so much more. I'm eternally grateful for my relationship with my dreams. In the below video (5' long), I share some of what is possible for us when we begin to cultivate a relationship with our dreamworld. What has your relationship with your dreams been like? What are you calling forward for that relationship? Big love, Eleni One of my favorite places to journey is the dreamworld. I am grateful to have received many teachings and downloads during my dreamtime which have expanded my understanding of reality, including on subjects like symbols, non-linear time and death. In this video (<7 min) I share a series of dreams I had about symbols and what they taught me. My big takeaways from these dreams about Symbols were:
These dreams came to me when I was actively working with symbols in my waking life. They helped expand my understanding of the possibilities available when working with symbols which allowed me to co-create with symbols in ways I would have never previously considered. I was (and continue to be) a student to my dreams and symbols. There are so many things we can apprentice ourselves to, which are accessible right now - our dreams, symbols, nature. There are opportunities to learn and grow all around us. As I parent two young children, my practice right now is slowing down to experience the fullness of those precious still moments, to allow the expansive cosmic and earth teachings seep through into my being. with Big love, Eleni As I welcome Autumn in a very soft and easy way to our home, I’ve been dreaming about and sitting with the topic of death. Death has been following me around (more on that in my audio), reminding me of an important aspect of this seasonal shift: death as an important part of the life cycle. I’m being invited to note how I honor death…how I honor my ancestors, how I honor the passing of animals and plants, how I honor the transition of seasons. Even how I honor my own endings. As I harvest the last of our summer plants, and pull them from the ground one by one, I sit in the fullness of life. Gratitude for the abundance, nourishment and beauty these plants offered me and my family; sadness for the end that that is here and the death of these plants. Today I set up the autumn altar for our home, inviting in this next phase of the year. There's been a dead butterfly on my altar for over a year. I found it on a morning walk with my daughter when she was an infant. It is perfect. Like it landed on the sidewalk in its peak then took its last breath. I realize I’ve been keeping it on my altar to remind me of the fragility of life; a reminder that death comes for us all…sometimes in the peak of our existence, sometimes when we’re winding down a full life, and oftentimes somewhere in between. May we apprentice ourselves to nature, listening deeply to what she shares on Death and Rebirth. Wishing you ease as we journey into this next season.  Part 1 portion of the Autumn altar; flowers and leaves to come  Butterfly beauty  This is a story about an old book that has been sitting on my shelf, collecting dust, for years. It’s a Greek language book my mother used in the late 60s when she started dating my dad (he was Greek, she Serbian). The book was outdated and no longer relevant, per my Greek language teacher who suggested I throw it away. Who knew a language could change so much? But, still I held onto it. There was the sentimental connection, of course, because my mother died 15 years ago; because she left behind a broken-hearted family with the quickness of her departure; because she didn’t leave much else. Well, there were her framed oil paintings and needlepoints, but those are still bubble wrapped waiting for a wall to go on. And there was her gold jewelry that was sold before my sister and I thought twice about it because we don’t like or wear gold, but now there’s my daughter and who knows what she will like, but you do and say things in the wake of grief that go beyond rational understanding or explanation. But this isn’t about any of that. This is about a book, sitting on a shelf, collecting dust, for over a decade. For who knows what reason. Until. In the beginning of last year, I took an online painting class (Painting the Feminine - check it out and then take it. Best. Class. Ever.). On the eve of the first class, I looked through my supplies for an empty journal to use and I couldn’t find anything that felt right. Searching, searching, searching, not wanting to go buy something new. Then my eyes rested on that dusty book. I took it from the shelf, wiping the years off, opened it. Could I? The pages were silky and heavy. I suspected they’d hold paint and some water, but didn’t know for sure. I had never painted in a book before. But in my heart I knew this book was it; I was going to paint in it. The first time I painted in this book, I felt my mother, knowing she had touched these pages decades ago. My paintbrush moved, connecting me to some other time when my mother was young, and hopeful, and I was not even a thought in her head. I was emotional and grateful and surprised. But as I continued painting in this book, thoughts of my mother faded to the background and I found myself lost in time and space, putting down color and painting in a way I had not painted before. This is when I realized that something special was happening in this dialogue between me, the book and the Universe.  Something magical happens when I paint here - it's more than a connection to my mom. I mean to say it IS that, and it’s so much more. It is a portal to something and somewhere else when I sit down with it. I connect in to some part of me that feels so real and true. I am aware of my connection to life, to the cosmos. Even as I write this and feel the truth of it in my bones, I wonder what that means and how to put in words this experience, other than to say, I feel the truth of life when I paint in it. As I write this, I realize this book has been another one of my teachers, a guide. I’ve dreamt about this book, and what wants to be painted in it and the messages connected to those paintings; then I wake up and paint and let that guide me to what is next. It’s a deep dialogue, back and forth. And I don’t know where this is all taking me, but I do know that the journey is full of truth and beauty, of expansiveness in space and suspension in time. What is more beautiful than finding a vortex in an unexpected place? An old dusty book that has been waiting for its time. What do several years mean to this book, when the time wasn’t right, and now it is, and now I’m being given teachings that change my life? Those dusty years, they are but a blink of an eye in the expansiveness of space, waiting for the time and place to land.  |
AuthorI'm Eleni and I'm dedicated to creating deeper connections to place and community. I am always learning and growing from my dance with the sacred. I'm intentional with putting my energy towards creating the type of world I want to live in. Archives
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