A Dream for Sleepless Nights, an Alchemical Fairy Tale

7/29/2019 A Dream for Sleepless Nights, an Alchemical Fairy Tale

1/104

Dream for a Sleepless NightAn Alchemical Fairy Tale

Thom F. Cavalli, Ph.D.

Copyright2004 by Thom F. Cavalli, Ph.D. All rights reserved.This book and CD, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in


2/104

any form without permission.

Table of Contents

Introduction: 4 7

One Dream

The Dream Story: 8 - 81

Dream for a Sleepless Night

Conclusion:

Sweet Dreams

Afterward:

Recalling Dreams

2


3/104

One Dream

This book is a gift to those who suffer insomnia. For my

entire adult life I, along with an estimated 40 million others,

have been plagued by this terrible problem. I know the pain

of being pulled out of sleep in the middle of the night.

Sleeping pills, meditation, prayer, herbs and analysis have

done little to ease my pain. Despite having followed ordersgiven by well meaning doctors and therapists, undergoing

sleep studies and trying alternative methods, still my

restless mind had found no peace. Even though insomnia

brings with it fatigue and a certain dulling of consciousness,

making the following day painful, the worst part of insomnia

is the interruption and loss of dreams.

I value my inner life and dreaming seems to be the most

direct way of accessing my unconscious. Without my dreams

I feel like a tree severed from its roots. The unconscious is

the ground on which I stand and without this terra firma

beneath my feet, I lose my balance and become disoriented.

My feelings lack conviction, my body aches and my thoughts

ring hollow. I have logged, interpreted and studied my

dreams for over three decades without having found a

definitive cause for this insomnia, much less a cure. Then,

3


4/104

one night out of the blue my head touched the pillow and I

didnt wake till morning. This in itself was exceptional but

the dream I had that night was extraordinary. It was a Big

Dream.

I offer this dream without any interpretation. Sometimes,

despite our best intentions to derive meaning from dreams,

the interpretations only get in the way of a potential healing

experience offered by the unconscious. I will only say that

the dream I had is part of an even bigger dream that Ibelieve each of us accesses every night. The ancient

alchemists believed that the real gold meant experiencing

the One Thing.

This One Thing can appear in many forms. For example,

when two lovers merge they cease to be separate beings.

Even on our currency we find this One Thing expressed in

the alchemical motto, e pluribus unum, Out of Many, the

One.

The beautiful story, Stone Soup, tells of a poor woman who

had nothing to eat. Using her wit and imagination, she

placed a small stone in a pot with some water and began to

stir. When people passed by and inquired about her soup she

told them that she was preparing a feast. They suggested

adding ingredients to improve her soup and gladly, she

4


5/104

accepted their offering. Each in turn, a baker, farmer,

butcher, contributed something until there really was a tasty

soup. Out of the Many, One delicious soup was created from

loving contributions given to this shrewd, old alchemist. They

offered to pay for a bowl but she would hear nothing of the

kind. She traveled from one town to the next, mixing up her

magical brew and in this way, bellies were filled with loving

bowls of soup.

Perhaps the reason most efforts to cure insomnia fail is dueto the fact that the problem and its solution are rooted in the

unconscious. An old homeopathic principle, Like cures like,

suggests that only a dream can cure someone who doesnt

dream. I recognize the circularity of this thinking, for how

can we have a healing dream if we dont dream? In my case,

the problem had apparently reached a crisis and the

unconscious simply broke through whatever conscious

resistance was interfering with sleep and blessed me with a

dream that clearly addressed this problem. Instead of

wandering the house aimlessly when you find yourself

unable to sleep, or getting angry with yourself, you may

want to read this dream. While I had this dream, I cannot

solely claim it as my own. A big dream belongs to all of us

and especially one that offers healing, should be shared.

5


6/104

The dream is one way that my healing unconscious is

speaking to your problem. There are certain things in life

that define being human. Along with eating, drinking,

sleeping and dying, dreaming is one of the biologically

mandated habits we all have. You may want to personalize

the dream later, but I suggest you allow some time to simply

enjoy the dreams story without analyzing or interpreting it.

You may find yourself having big dreams of your own,

bringing medicines that transform your worst nightmare

into a wonderful gift. Isnt that the way things happen in

dreams?

6


7/104

Awakening from Insomnia

A Big Dream

Insomnia is a cancer on the sleeping soul. Cancer is life run

amok, cells dividing uncontrollably. These are baby cells

whose parent is fast asleep.

Here in the wooded mountains of Thailand, just outside

Chang Mai, my eyes popped open in the middle of the night

just as they regularly do eight thousands miles away in my

home in California. My wife lies peacefully asleep

undisturbed by my chronic problem, while I stare at the

mosquito netting cocooning our bed. In my fantasy I wish for

a metamorphosis to free me from this demon that refuses to

7


8/104

let me drift into the calm of the night.

Long ago I submitted to this nighttime intruder and now in

desperation, I reach for the medicine bottle without

hesitation. Still, some hours go by before the tranquilizer

takes effect and I shut down.

Foreign scents and unfamiliar sounds invade my awakening

mind. My head swirls with the barking of birds. My fingers

reach across the bed but come up empty. Cynthia is long

gone, probably looking for a good place to have breakfast. I

roll out of bed and like a good soldier ready myself to face the

adventure awaiting me in this strange land.

I am right. A note leads me to a small shop where I find

Cynthia sipping tea. Her smile brightens when she sees me.

Refreshed upon seeing her, I ask what looks good on the

menu. We have only just arrived in this area a few days ago

and still feel like strangers in this new land. There is some

adjustment required to being in a country where people treat

8


9/104

animals like neighbors and even the sun seems to have a

slightly different hue. No sooner had we finished our

breakfast when the sound of loud clanging cymbals gathered

a small crowd of people in front of a nearby temple.

In Chang Mai there are temples on every corner, but this

particular one caught my eye when we first arrived. Unlike

most temples in Thailand that are covered in gold, this one

appeared rather plain and lifeless. Colorful banners waved

from the middle of the crowd, each one inscribed with words

and symbols I did not recognize. Flashes of black, red and

white rippled in the wind. Unabashedly we rushed to the

scene and dove into the crowd like herons seizing fish from

the sea.

Sometimes being different helps. As we snaked our way

through the crowd, the locals drew back as if we were lepers.

Within minutes we were at the very heart of the circle, face

to face with a man who seemed like a character straight out

of a movie. At about 6 feet in height very unusual for this

9


10/104

part of the world- stood an old man, wearing garments that

appeared to be a cross between the animal skins of Native

Americans and the multicolored robes of Tibetan Buddhists.

His hair and beard were silver white. Judging by the deep

furrows that lined his eyes, nose and mouth Id guess he

must have been at least 80 years old. He rocked in perfect

rhythm to the cymbals. Lifting either foot with each beat he

looked as if he were climbing an invisible ladder.

The ringing cymbals stopped abruptly. The man stood

perfectly upright and opened his eyes for the first time.

We were standing directly in front of him. His eyes were the

color of the sky and his gaze penetrated my body. Though

tired I suddenly became energized as if an alien light was

glowing in my stomach and shooting straight up to my solar

plexus. The crowd grew quiet as he spoke a few words in his

native tongue. It felt odd to hear not one sound among so

many people. He kept repeating the same words and with

each repetition it became increasingly obvious that he was

10


11/104

expecting a response from me.

I do not know any Thai but it was clear that this mans words

held power. He was a shaman from the high mountain

country and I intuitively knew that this encounter could not

be put off to chance. I also knew that shamans communicate

telepathically but being a dense human being from the West

I wasnt able to understand what this man was trying to tell

me. Fortunately a young boy in the crowd grasped what was

happening and stepped forward to help. He translated that

the priest wanted to know what I value most but understood

least. The riddle stumped me and I felt awkward and self-

conscious. The silence of the crowd made me even more

uncomfortable but at the same time seemed to suck an

answer right out of me.

My soul, my soul, I said after several minutes. The boy

translated and the old man responded after taking several

deep breaths. He then asked, What is in need of healing?

Without pausing this time I told him that I have great

11


12/104

difficulty with sleep. Translated, this came back as my not

being about to let go of the light. He then told me that he

had a cure for this problem but that it would require putting

my soul in his care for a while. This unnerved me and I could

sense Cynthia taking a step back. She whispered out of the

corner of her mouth that this might be a good time to get

out of here. But I was torn.

Thoughts bounced back and forth in my mind until it felt as if

there were two of me engaged in a debate. I struggled

between running like the devil and holding onto my soul.

This seemed like magic - how could I trust this old man? Yet

on the other hand, the whole thing seemed like nonsense -

so what harm was there in going along with the game?

Im not a religious man but I do live a spiritual life. My soul is

as important to me as my arms and legs. Putting my soul in

this old mans care filled me with mixed emotions: fear,

intrigue and hope. I decided to take the matter very

seriously. Here was an offer that might cure me of my

dreadful insomnia. I was sorely tempted to trust the old man.

12


13/104

My rational voice chimed in and reasoned that this old man

didnt appear to be Mephistopheles after all and what he

offered was to care for my soul, not take it.

Time became elastic. What was probably five minutes felt

like an hour. As an intuitive person I struggled to use reason

but in the end rationality retreated and intuition decided the

matter. Had I known that the one word I was about to utter

would send me on the journey I was about to take, Im not

sure the answer would have been the same.

Okay. I said in an uncertain voice.

Having given my response this time without the help of my

translator - the cymbals recommenced but now the old man

began to turn in circles with his arms outstretched. He

dipped his wings like a bird twice with each revolution. As

if an analgesic were taking hold of me I lost a bit of

consciousness every time I saw the old mans face. His eyes

were closed and before I could count to ten so were mine. I

13


14/104

am told that I then slumped to the ground and while my wife

froze in panic the old man placed a white sheet over my still

form.

Magicians use sheets to make things disappear, but in this

case I was still there when the sheet was removed moments

later. What was missing was my being awake. Id lost

consciousness. My eyes were closed and I was breathing. I

was not dead.

The crowd gasped as soon as they saw me lying there. The

shaman had indeed worked his magic and there I was fast

asleep on the ground in a strange city at the foot of an

ancient temple. To the people the show was over but for me

it was just beginning. The crowd unraveled like a colorful ball

of yarn and when the last of them was gone, so was the old

man.

Cynthia was beside herself. After several failed attempts to

rouse me, she ran for help.

14


15/104

In the hospital my head and chest were covered with

electrodes. Needles jumped and eerie blue lightening bolts

sketched out the status of my brain activity across luminous

screens. The doctors examined me and concluded there

wasnt anything wrong with me, other than that I was

apparently in a very deep sleep. They stopped short of

calling my condition a coma and assured Cynthia that I was

not in any medical danger. I was simply fast asleep and

clearly, by all indications, actively dreaming.

The dream is a little hidden door in the innermost secret

recesses of the soul.

C. G. Jung

In ancient Greece it is believed that the gods, bent on

punishing people, decided to do so by answering their

prayers. I had asked for sleep and sleep is what I got. Like

the male version of sleeping beauty I lay fast asleep

15


16/104

dreaming within a dream that only good would come of this

while my soul nestled itself in the palm of an old mans

wrinkled hand.

The smell of dark green infused my nostrils and all about me

I felt a bed of leaves envelop me like a warm, cozy nest. I

could not tell whether my eyes were open or closed, but

either way all I could see was black. I shuttled back and forth

between fear and a deep sense of surrender to this

overwhelming sleep Id fallen into. At last I was asleep. I had

long yearned for this moment. I didnt want it to stop. I could

not say how long Id been lying in that forest. I could not see

my watch. My mind wandered and I thought of a

conversation Cynthia and I once had about dreaming. She is

an amazing dreamer, one of those people who remember

every detail of their dreams. Added to her boundless

memory was the ability to travel in her dreams, change

shape and even awaken in her dreams something known

as lucid dreaming. I could perform none of these

extraordinary feats. At best, I was lucky to even get to sleep

16


17/104

and stay down the night through.

After a while the thought hit me and I could no longer avoid

the reality that I was indeed asleep but simultaneously

aware of my condition. I must have been having one of those

lucid dreams. Still I could see nothing. Only when sounds of

whispering buzzed all round me did I jump to my feet. I

grabbed my glasses and put them on. Like night goggles

they cut beams of eerie green light every which way I

looked. I was in a wooded forest surrounded by tall trees,

giant ferns and purple grasses. Again I heard the whispers

coming out of the woods but could not make any sense of

such random sounds. This continued long enough for me to

realize that each whisper was part of a sound, incomplete in

itself, but when joined with other sounds they collected into

a sentence. They were emanating from the tiny mouth of a

very small man.

I shone my green light directly on him. He could not have

been more than four feet high even including the tall conical

17


18/104

hat he wore on his head. The shock sobered me instantly as I

realized I was looking at a gnome. One by one other heads

popped out of the woods. Eerily little people began to

encircled me. But the whispers all collected and came to

focus on the first of these small men. Out of his mouth I

distinctly these words:

We know your problem and what you have to do. You need

to go through Sleepy Hollow.

I responded by asking who he was. The whispers gathered

again and the chief gnome introduced himself, I am Sir

Bastian, ruler of Ebony Wood.

Bewildered I began to ask questions in hopes of orienting

myself. Where was I? Was I asleep? Was I dead or alive?

Why should we help you? You have come here uninvited

and now you ask these many questions?

18


19/104

I pleaded with Sir Bastian at first with reason, then by

begging for courtesy, then simply by begging. There was a

growing fear in me that if these gnomes should leave me I

would never find my way out of this place.

What have you to give us to make our time worthwhile?

It was an oddly worded question. Another riddle, I thought.

Here, take my watch.

While this seemed to please Sir Bastian, my apparent ability

to match wits with him pleased him far more.

So I asked: What is Sleepy Hollow? Is it the way out of

here?

It is the first way out, or if you please, the first way in. Do

you want out or in?

Now I was completely confused. Clearly time and space had

19


20/104

little meaning in these woods. Thinking myself rather clever I

responded by saying I wanted to be inside out. This

absolutely delighted Sir Bastian. In fact the whole of his

colony began to laugh.

Very well then its off to Sleepy Hollow we go.

However wide awake they may have been before they

entered that sleepy region, they are sure, in a little time, to

inhale the witching influence of the air, and begin to grow

imaginative, to dream dreams and see apparitions.

FromThe Legend of Sleepy Hollow

The path wound through a canopy of ferns and bamboo

trees. Sir Bastian leading the way in front of me with a long

line of gnomes following close behind. I had the eerie feeling

that I wasnt actually going anywhere but rather simply

peddling my legs as I tossed and turned in my bed.

Suddenly, our journey came to a halt and Sir Bastian pointed

to a huge tree with a trunk that had two enormous legs split

apart. In the center was a pit of darkness, imperious even to

20


21/104

my green light.

There is where you must go to get in and to get out. This is

where you will be turned inside out.

This seemed ominous. I wondered to myself whether I could

trust these little tricksters.

Will you be going with me? I asked.

I, said Sir Bastian, will meet you on the other side.

How can I trust that what you are saying is true?

If this is as you believe a dream, then I and everything

around you is part of your dream. The question then is: Do

you trust yourself?

He had a point there. This certainly could not be anything

other than a dream and that being the case, even this

Sleepy Hollow was part of my dream. This reasoning offered

21


22/104

just enough reassurance for me to approach the mighty oak.

I came as close as I could to the hollow without actually

entering it. It appeared to be solid but its bark resembled an

oil slick or the surface of molten tar. Cautiously I reached out

to touch it with my finger. Instantly I was pulled into in a

thick morass, as if Id fallen into the deepest regions of

22


23/104

space. I tumbled head over heels until I had neither head nor

heels. Strange words seemed to resound from above. I could

barely make out Sir Bastians voice repeating over and over

again: solve et coagula, solve et coagula. A lot of good that

was doing me! I had no idea what he meant and worse

began to feel like I was disintegrating. The cells of my body

loosened and I seemed to be coming apart. Chaos was all I

could think of. I am in chaos. The thought reverberated in

the emptiness for I had no head to contain it or anything

else.

Chaos is the massa confusa, the prima materia out of

which form first emerges. The nigredo is the initial stage of

the alchemical work. It means blackening - in it one

discovers the shadows of the unconscious.

Out of the darkness dropped a speck of light, rocking back

and forth through space like a metallic snowflake. It seemed

to crystallize as it fell, its silvery arms laced in an intricate

23


24/104

pattern, shimmering like a diamond point of light. Suddenly

my perspective shifted and I became one of many sparkling

points of light falling gently onto a river down below. Upon

making contact with the water, the river immediately came

alive around me. I felt its rushing currents course through

the black slick that was all that remained of my body.

Although consciousness had reconnected with my body I had

absolutely no control.

Suddenly I recalled that in dreams it is possible to shift ones

attention from one place to another. Though I no longer

seemed to have a physical body, nor eyes, I could see the

fast moving river and the tall line of trees speeding past me.

Instantly my consciousness shot up to the treetops above

and gazed back down upon the black slick Id become, while

the river continued to carry me downstream. Up ahead the

river became completely black. I thought I had reached the

end of the world.

In desperation I pleaded with the river currents appearing

24


25/104

as ghostly spirits mermaid creatures darting in and out of

the cold, icy water. Steer me right I cried. Steer me away!

My prayers were answered but not before my body hit the

solid black mass that lay along the rivers edge. I bounced

off the mass and smashed into the rocks by the shore.

Miraculously I didnt die, but I became certain that death

could take me at any moment. I was going to die and

without a watch I had no way of knowing when that would

happen.

Still in black ooze form, I moved through the rocks along the

shore. Like a river snake, I slithered through crevices until I

found myself contained in a pool shaped by boulders in the

form of a human. Here in this mold of rock and stone, my

sense of humor returned and I mused to myself, I am the

shadow of the man I used to be.

I wondered how I could possibly regain my body? As I lay

formless and still, a black liquid being, I began to remember

what I once looked like. And then I realized that that was it;

25


26/104

remembering was the secret!

Solve and Coagula is the primary recipe of alchemy. We

must first break up the ego mass through a process or

operation known as solutio, then by re-membering that we

are more than mere flesh return to the spiritual form of an

earlier existence.

Carefully I remembered my body from head to toe re-

membered my body from head to toe - and eventually I was

able to gradually emerge from the pool intact. I lay down on

the rocky shore, feeling like a shadow, and once again began

to hear the words of the little man.

As promised, said Sir Bastian. Here I am.

Yes indeed there you are. And here I am, having barely

escaped that terrible river with my life.

But, you did. Youve passed the first trial.

26


27/104

The first?! I yelled. How many more trials are there before

I can get out of this awful place?

You are an odd creature, replied Sir Bastian calmly. First,

you long for sleep. Then finally getting it, you want to wake

up.

Well, if this is sleep then indeed I do want to wake up. How

do I do that? I demanded.

You must cross the Bridge of Day Light.

And where, I pray, might that be?

Before I received a response, I was suddenly overcome by

hunger. I felt so ravenous that I immediately and blindly

began stuffing everything I could into my mouth. Berries,

bark, leaves, grass and even dirt I swallowed whole. Like a

devouring monster I gobbled a stand of mushrooms and

chased them down with water from the river. Immediately,

27


28/104

my head began to spin and my stomach began to churn in

rhythm with my racing heart.

It must have been the mushrooms that brought on the

avalanche of hallucinations. Like a cracked mirror, reality

shattered into a thousand shards of glass. Reflected in each

were strange images of dinosaurs, stars, musical

instruments, bones and creatures I could not identify. Most

disconcerting was an effect of light and darkness in rapid

alternation. Day and night were flickering like a strobe light,

completely disorienting me.

I am dying. I cried out at the top of my lungs. Through the

haze of my bleary vision I saw Sir Bastian. Lying flat on my

back looking up at him he appeared as tall as a giant. I am

dying. I cried out again. Please help me!

No sooner have you passed your first trial and already you

are rushing into the second task. What is your hurry?

28


29/104

Please help me, was all I could manage to say.

You lost your body and now youre losing your mind. What a

mess you are!

I detected a bit of glee in his voice but I failed to see the

humor. I was slipping away quickly.

Without showing the least concern for my dreadful state, Sir

Bastian demanded, Tell me everything you know.

What do you mean, everything I know? That will take

forever.

Thats not a problem, and he pointed to the watch. We

have no problem with that; we can just wind this watch

every time it runs down.

Desperately I agreed. Struggling to put words together I

began by telling him my name, where I was born, who my

parents are, where I went to school, which foods I liked and

29


30/104

which I hated This went on for what seemed an

interminable time and every so often I could see Sir Bastian

rewinding my watch.

Thats it, I said at last, I have told you everything. There is

no more to tell.

Not true. Insisted Sir Bastian defiantly. You have not told

me your last thought, for if you had, you would cease to be.

I had to agree. At the very least his statement forced me to

collect my thoughts and the hallucinations began to

dissipate. This was another one of his riddles. I would surely

be dead if I were to tell him my last thought. When your

heart takes its last beat, I thought, your blood stops

circulating and you die. So it seemed to follow that once your

brain had its last thought, you were through with this life.

But, something in this logic wasnt quite right. My brain was

a more complicated matter, or so I thought at the time. My

brain also has a mind of its own, which is something quite

30


31/104

different than my heart. Now I was getting somewhere. The

two are not equivalent. Since my brain isnt the same thing

as my mind then death comes only when the former quits.

My mind, on the other hand, can stop without the brain

having to die.

As if he were reading my thoughts Sir Bastian echoed my

words, Now we are getting somewhere. But, he added

whimsically, Where can you go when you tell me your last

thought?

Oddly enough, I began to understand. The more I

concentrated on this riddle the more my mind drew

together. By now the nausea had begun to ease and the

hallucinations had ceased entirely. My mind was utterly clear

and I could think of nothing more to say.

At the end of my long recitation I had not a single thought

left to tell and I certainly did not die. On the contrary, I felt

more alive than ever. My mind seemed to be set free from

31


32/104

my head. I was in a thoughtless space, free to wander in

many and all directions simultaneously. My body served to

anchor me in the sylvan wood as my consciousness

traversed the universe unfettered. My meditation was

abruptly cut short when I heard Sir Bastian say, Youve

learned one of many more operations youll need to guide

you safely across the Bridge of Day Light. Now we must go.

This time I didnt even ask where we were headed. For such

a little man he certainly could walk at a quick pace. Of

course, being short gave him the advantage of not having to

duck under branches or push aside tree limbs. He walked

with a decided step, but I noticed how silently he moved

through the woods. We walked for what must have been

many hours. Since he still had my watch I had only the dim

glow of early light to give me some sense of time. Although

it was still quite dark I no longer depended on my night

goggles to see. Wed reached an open glen covered with

high grasses when he finally stopped to give me further

directions.

32


33/104

You are ready for the next trial. In order to reach the Bridge

of Day Light you must go to the White Queen.

How do I get there? Will you not show me the way?

I cannot enter the glen but it is here that you will meet a

guide who will take you to the Castle of the Moon. I will see

you on the other side. And with these words he vanished.

For the first time I was alone. The glen spread out before me

like a magic carpet. I had no idea what to expect or whom

this guide might be or how long it would take before he

would come. I settled down on a mound of grass that

overlooked a lovely clearing; not far behind me were the

woods, dark and impenetrably dense. The predawn light in

the sky made everything just barely visible. I shuddered as I

remembered that I was in fact asleep and this was all a

dream. And where, I wondered, was this body of mine lying

in waking reality? Was I still in the midst of that crowd, or

33


34/104

had Cynthia taken me back to the inn? And what about my

soul? Was the shaman keeping it safe or was he up to no

good?

Thoughts pulled me in two directions. I couldnt possibly

enjoy this sleep if it meant Id never awaken again. I wasnt

finished with my life but neither was I finished with this

strange realm. For better or worse, the choice was not mine.

I had to submit to whatever fate this place had in store for

me. I favored this conclusion to other, more dreadful

possibilities. Whenever I began thinking of escape fear rose

up in my heart like hissing snake.

I reassured myself that this was all a dream. Despite the fact

that I was quite alert and even pinched myself from time to

time I knew most assuredly that I was dreaming. While

pondering these thoughts, I heard the trees rustling in the

nearby forest. Odd, I thought, since there was no wind. I

stood and strained my eyes to see what was stirring. Might

this be my guide?

34


35/104

I could discern tree trunks jutting straight up in a long line

bordering the glen. But from time to time a white line

seemed to dart between them. Each time I moved toward

the trees the rustling stopped and it was no longer possible

to see what the white line might be. I resumed my position

on the ground and regained the state of mind I had been

enjoying before the rustling began. Restraint paid off. The

head of pure white horse appeared not twenty yards away.

Excitement welled up within me but I knew intuitively that

the shy creature would only run if I tried to advance.

I even avoided making eye contact. Instead I observed

obliquely from the corner of my eye until I was rewarded

with a sight I would not soon forget. Standing among the tall

grass, draped by dark woods behind and a misty gray sky

overhead, I saw a unicorn. Where doubt did from time to

time cause me to question whether this was a dream or not,

it now made not a difference in the world. It was love at first

sight.

35


36/104

Love is the only emotion I can use to describe the vision that

my tired eyes beheld. I was entranced by this lovely white

creature whose mane was the color of clouds and whose

body gleamed like marble. We were two aliens meeting for

the first time. Such a meeting is profound and we each

needed time to adjust.

There was no way of knowing how much time had passed.

We stood in suspended animation like two figures in a

painting, each of us gazing at the other among tall yellow

grasses; rocks in the foreground and the dark wooded forest

behind.

The reverie was broken by a gentle wave of her head. The

gesture indicated that I was to follow her. Not until this

moment did I realize that my guide was not another gnome

or fairy, but this sublime creature. Never before did I really

believe that such animals existed. But here I was gazing at

this beautiful unicorn knowing she would take me to the

36


37/104

castle of the White Queen.

She turned and galloped into the woods. I followed.

Whenever I thought Id lost sight of her she would patiently

reappear and give a gentle wave of her head. We traveled

up a steep path that wound its way around a mountain, a full

days journey. I was tired and hungry; sweat beaded my

brow and trickled into salty rivulets that streamed down my

face.

As our ascent continued, trees became sparse and patches

of earth opened up to expose large sheets of granite.

Fatigue drew my gaze downward and my breath became

labored; the path grew steadily steeper. My guide began

nudging me deftly, being careful to keep from skewering me

with the sharp tip of her horn.

Suddenly the words Its about time rang out from nowhere.

I didnt have to raise my head to know the crooked mouth

out of which these words flowed. There stood Sir Bastian on

37


38/104

a huge boulder, peering down at me. The unicorn was

nowhere in sight.

Where has she gone? was my only reply.

She has joined her coven, said Sir Bastian. Can you not

see them?

I climbed up onto the boulder where Sir Bastian had planted

himself and searched the crest of the mountain, but could

only see a panorama of gray skies hanging over a multitude

of rocks.

How thoughtless of me, Sir Bastian mused. She has

thought of everything. Thats why shes a queen and I am

but a mere squire.

Without explanation, Sir Bastian ordered me to shut my

eyes. I did as I was told. Then he told me to open them

slowly, blink several times and then cautioned me to prepare

38


39/104

myself for what I was about to behold.

He took the curved handle of his cane and pointing it upward

to a cloud began to pull on it. At first this struck me as rather

funny and I laughed out loud when at one point he was

literally hanging, cane in hand, from the cloud. Somehow he

found his gravity again and with a steadfast tug drew what

appeared to be stage curtains across my line of vision. In the

blink of an eye the entire scene shifted and I was privy to

one of the most amazing sights Id ever seen.

Where before only rocks appeared scattered about, now

stood a pure white castle with spires piercing the sky from

hundreds of turrets. Above the two spires hung a crescent

moon. It was the first light I had seen since entering this

realm. I was momentarily blinded. When I regained my vision

the glare or fog or mist or whatever it was began to dissipate

and in further amazement I once again spied my guide. She

stood shoulder to shoulder with thousands of other unicorns

surrounding the castle.

39


40/104

As I approached, every unicorn lowered its head in an

ominous gesture: Stay back!

What is happening? I asked. I must see the Queen.

You fool, answered Sir Bastian, look at yourself. Do you

really think her majesty will entertain a dirty, butt naked cod

such as yourself?

Besides, he continued, you have neither an invitation or

even a gift that might curry favor with her lady.

But these last words were lost on me as sudden shame

overcame me and I went running for cover. How could I not

have realized that I was wandering naked since emerging

from the awful river Styx? Not only had I just been caught in

this dreadful condition by a herd of angelic beauties, I had

just spent a full days journey with the most fair of them all -

my guide.

40


41/104

Can you help me, Sir Bastian? I pleaded.

Once again you ask and once again I ask why? came his

diffident response.

Because service is the greatest passion. I replied,

surprised to hear these words coming from my lips. I turned

around to see if there might be someone else whod spoken

these words (but there was not).

Very well, then, lets be on our way, was all he said.

Sir Bastian led me to a beautiful meadow where a small pool

lay nestled within a crowd of birch trees. Steam swirled just

above its surface as dragonflies darted about in search of a

tasty meal. I plunged into the natural spring. The dirt that

had coated my entire body instantly melted away. I

submerged myself several times and felt deep contentment.

Sir Bastian sat on a large toadstool smoking his pipe. The

aroma seemed to be a mix of cherry bark and mustard seed.

As my eyes closed half way, a white osprey alighted directly

41


42/104

atop my head. Sir Bastian put down his pipe and whispered

under his breath, a blessing from the skies.

Having a large bird perched itself atop your head is an eerie

feeling. As awkward as it seemed, I did indeed feel blessed

and in some mysterious way confirmed. I felt clean inside

and out. Still, I was as naked as a blue jay. Without any

thought as to how I might dry off, Sir Bastian ordered me to

leave. I obeyed and emerged from the spring feeling

renewed.

42


43/104

We returned to the nearby wood and followed a stream that

sparkled with tiny fairies. The stream led into a dark cave

where the sound of running water chortling over rocks

emanated from within.

This, my friend is where you will get yourself clothes fit for a

king, or should I say Queen, said Sir Bastian pointing with

his cane.

You must be kidding, I protested. Im not going in there.

Suit yourself then, said he, obviously amused with the pun.

How will I get a new suit in that devils hole?

Do you have an aversion to spiders? responded the

gnome.

43


44/104

Not particularly, I replied. In fact, I found spiders rather

interesting.

Spiders are known to spin out the web of Life. They can be

tricksters, but ones whose tricks serve to have us do

negative things that eventually put us on the right track.

Well these spiders are masters of the loom. Theyve clothed

just about every creature that roams this forest. Bear hides,

bird feathers, snake skinsall crafted by these fine tailors.

How about the clothes you wear? Did they dress you?

Sir Bastian laughed. Had they I would have no use for a

wife.

This caught me off guard. It never occurred to me that Sir

Bastian was married.

44


45/104

Married indeed. I have 27 children, and yes, all by my sweet

Ann-Marie.

Do you not miss her? You have been with me for some time

now.

We will get to that in due time, but right now lets get you

dressed.

I drew courage from his words. Ever so carefully, I slowly

crept into the dark cave. Hearing Sir Bastians words echo off

the walls I was soon able to lift myself upright and precede

into the darkness.

Now do be careful, stick to the stream and walk straight

ahead. The water falls to either side of the stream. His

words bounced off the walls leaving in their trail a din of

resonating reassurance. Keep your eyes open, stay

vigilant.

45


46/104

I kept my balance by keeping my hands pressed to the low

ceiling. As I proceeded I first felt moss that then seemed to

degrade into some kind of disgusting sticky substance.

Determinedly I marched forward. Dozens of tiny legs began

stitching a web around my wrists and arms. I could feel the

spiders working quickly to weave a soft fabric around my

entire body. Within minutes it was finished. Propelled by

horror and delight, I rushed toward the entrance, anxious to

see their handiwork.

Very well done indeed, said Sir Bastian seeing my new

garments. It was in fact a job well done: shirt and tights,

cape and cap as green as the trees and as snug fitting as

46


47/104

bark. Embroidery tastefully accented each piece with signs

and insignias that gave a noble appearance. Unfortunately I

had no idea what any of the symbols meant.

We have only one thing left to do before you can present

yourself to her Royal Highness.

Before I could asked what this might be, Sir Bastian

explained that since I didnt have a formal invitation I might

gain entry by winning her favor with a gift. She loves

roses.

If the Queen is as beautiful as you say she is, then I would

think she has many suitors who must regularly bring her

roses.

Right you are, my noble friend. Sir Bastian responded. So

that is why you must bring her the most unique rose in the

entire Queendom.

47


48/104

So off we were once more, this time to find the garden of the

hundred-petalled white rose. Cleaned and dressed up, my

confidence reached new heights. My step had an extra

spring and I felt excited as we drew near the only place

where the special rose could be found. We arrived at a

clearing in the wood. Before us was a very large labyrinth

surrounded by a gate. I could clearly see the white rose

bobbing just above the labyrinthine hedges. The fence was

taller than I and the gate was securely bolted with a huge

iron lock.

A labyrinth is a unicursal (single path) magical tool. It is

magical in that through the conscious use of the labyrinth

answers to questions come, spiritual awareness can be

enhanced, the path ahead, in the confusion of the

labyrinths convoluted path, can somehow become clear.

Seg Lonegney

How do I gain entry? I asked Sir Bastian.

48


49/104

Again you ask and again I say, what have you to give me

for my service? was his by now familiar reply.

Havent we been over this already? I sighed to myself.

But this time Sir Bastian knew well what was to be

exchanged.

Around my neck you see a key. It is the instrument that will

admit you through the gate but at the cost of losing me.

I was stunned. Why?! I asked, repeating the question over

and over again, Why must I lose you to obtain this flower?

Without the flower you have no power. The rose unlocks the

Queens heart and it is her heart that you must win if ever

you hope to awaken from this dream.

Realizing once again that this was indeed a dream did little

to console me. Despite his riddles Sir Bastian had been a

trustworthy friend and without him I was already feeling very

49


50/104

sad. He was right, but that didnt stop the tears from welling

up in my eyes.

So now we have a deal. With these words Sir Bastian drew

out of his pocket a small silver flask. He brought it to my

cheek whereupon a tear slipped into the vial. He deftly

corked the vial with a stopper to preserve the tear, and said

that the salt would always remind him of our friendship.

Will I never see you again? I cried, wiping tears from my

eyes in an uncharacteristic, emotional display.

On the contrary. You will see me every time you sit down on

the green grass or wander through the woods. I will be

hiding in every plant and flower, every burrow, hill and

mountain. I am in the meadows and the brooks, the caves

and the underbrush. This place is my home and I know it

well. It is my wisdom and now it is yours.

Gnomes are the elemental of the earth. As their name

50


51/104

implies they hold the gnosis, the wisdom of nature.

I didnt really understand his words. Feelings were clouding

the possibility of thinking clearly. Then, he placed the key in

my hand. This time he didnt disappear but rather simply

turned and walked away. At one point in the distance I

thought I saw him raise his left hand to say goodbye, but he

never looked back.

The key fit easily into the old lock. I turned it slowly and the

lock dropped like an anvil. The gate swung open and the

path was clearly visible, guarded by tall hedges on either

side. Directly in front of me stood a sign with the words, The

Rose gives Honey to the Bee. Another riddle! Unable to

determine which might be the best route to take I began

wandering aimlessly. Then as I regained my senses I

contemplated the maze, stopping every now and then to

decide which way to go. Isnt this like life? I thought to

myself. Should I go left or right or keep to the straight path?

In an ordinary situation the shortest distance between two

51


52/104

points would be a straight line, but this place was clearly not

ordinary and neither for that matter, has much of my life

been so simple! Id often followed meandering paths to find

that although it took longer to reach my goal my life was

much richer as a result. Could this explain the meaning of

that strange sign?

This situation was not so different. In fact, I had a decided

advantage that I made me feel sure I could find the best

path leading to the center. Although the hedges were tall I

could either jump up a bit or stand on my tiptoes and see the

white rose gleaming in the light of the moon. By bobbing up

52


53/104

and down I knew I would find my way to her without too

much difficulty.

Making my way through the maze I found myself driven by

an overwhelming desire to behold the rose and in turn to

meet her mistress. It was truly a love attraction that

compelled me to put one foot in front of the other. One

wrong turn and sadness arose in my heart; two wrong turns

and I became dreadfully downtrodden. What had to be done

was clear: allow myself to surrender to the attraction that

was leading me straight to my hearts desire.

Finally, one sharp right turn delivered me to the prize. I

beheld four narrow paths in the form of a cross that led

through a garden of black roses. There at the very center

was the rose of a hundred petals. I was the bee and she the

honey.

I felt utter love gazing at this magnificent white rose. Unable

to move I dropped to the ground. I suddenly did not even

53


54/104

have the energy to determine which path led to my beloved.

As strange as this may sound, given my condition, I must

have fallen asleep. And in this sleep I had a dream within a

dream: in it the white rose turned into a fair damsel with the

hundred-petalled blossom crowning her veiled head. She

descended from her throne and walked directly toward me. I

felt as if a missing part of my self was rejoining my body and

I became whole again.

When I opened my eyes the dream had become a reality.

Only it wasnt a beautiful lady sitting beside me but the

white rose. As I stood up, so did she. Her petalled head

reached to my chest and her lower branches served ably as

feet. She placed her leafy-hand in mine and I followed her

out of the labyrinth.

What if you slept?

And what if, in your sleep, you dreamed?

And what if in your dream

You went to heaven and there plucked

54


55/104

A strange and beautiful flower?

And what if, when you awoke,

You had the flower in your hand?

Ah! What then?

Coleridge

The absurdity of walking while holding a branched hand did

not escape me but it was a lovely absurdity that pleased me

very much.

We soon found ourselves facing the herd of unicorns that

surrounded the Castle of the Moon. By this time there was

more light, and I turned my gaze upwards. What had been a

crescent had now blossomed into a perfectly round full

moon. Clean and dressed up in my green garment, armed

with a precious gift, the white steeds stepped aside and each

in turn dropped to one knee in a graceful, welcoming

curtsey.

55


56/104

As I entered the main chamber my empty stomach churned

and again hunger pangs shot through my body. Ridiculous! I

was finally about to meet the White Queen and all I could

think about was food. It seemed that every pore in my body

screamed out to be fed. I tightened my grasp on the delicate

branched hand, being careful not to squeeze too hard.

So I see youve brought my sister. The words echoed off

the vaulted ceiling. At the end of the great hall, standing on

a raised patio, was a petite woman with long pins sticking

out from her black hair. Her back was to me, but I was sure

the words came from her.

I took a step back when in a sudden ballet-like pirouette she

turned and faced me. This could not be the queen, I thought.

This is a geisha.

Who are you? I demanded.

56


57/104

My eardrums were instantly inundated with voices

ricocheting off the leaden windows, huge wooded thrusts,

stone galleys and gilded birdcage.

Cleopatra. Maria. Cybele. Isis. Kwan Yin. Aphrodite.

I fell to the ground and the rose bowed before the white-

robed geisha.

I have many names but you may call me Chang Mai.

A memory flashed through my head and my mind drifted

momentarily to a far away place. Gathering my senses once

again I managed to ask, Are you the White Queen?

What is a queen without a king? I await the day when I am

indeed once again a true Queen.

I dont understand. I confessed, but she was busy now

placing her sister in a crystal vase.

57


58/104

You are hungry. She stated plainly. Let us retire to the

dining hall. And with that she stepped gracefully into an

adjoining room. The table was set with tall silver

candelabras, two shiny silver plates and matching

silverware. Before she took her seat I had the chance to

study her. She was stunningly beautiful. Her robe was made

of white silk embroidered with swans and bamboo. She wore

tall wooden slippers that held feet no bigger than my hands.

Her face looked like a Kabuki mask: pure white with slashes

of black and red to accentuate her eyes. As she sat down her

eyes met mine and I saw two silver orbs set perfectly in

white opal. She caught herself quickly and broke her

unintended gaze.

She sat quietly for a few moments. Then, with her head

slightly bowed she began to sing a song. Her voice reminded

me of a nightingale.

58


59/104

With this prayer we bless this food that will help make us

more gentle in our ways. With these words she removed the

silver lids from three large serving bowls. Before me lay a

bounty so grand it immediately brought to mind the best

Thanksgiving meals Id ever had. Mushrooms garnished in

garlic, mashed potatoes, four different salads, breads

twisted into the forms of butterflies, giant corncobs and

sweet potatoes; all quite tempting but I nevertheless noticed

the conspicuous absence of meat. My hunger had not the

patience to inquire about this obvious oversight. Instead, on

receiving her signal to commence I unleashed my appetite.

So famished was I, not a word was exchanged between us

the entire meal.

After what seemed an hour, she opened one last small silver

tray and offered its contents to me. To my surprise it was a

fortune cookie with four leaves folded inward like a flower.

For some odd reason I felt amused. I smiled and quietly took

the cookie in hand, cracking it open. The message inside

read: Sow your seed on white foliated earth.

59


60/104

I hadnt the slightest idea what this riddle was trying to say,

but I knew there must be a hidden meaning.

Before you leave, said the Queen, you will leave a part of

yourself and when you go you will take a part of me with

you. She then gathered herself up and for the first time

smiled. She poured two small timbales of sake. We tapped

our glasses and I offered a toast in response to her

mysterious words, May our exchange bless this day. She

60


61/104

sipped, I chugged and that is all I remember until I found

myself lying in a sea of white satin sheetsquite alone.

I lay still for a long time going over the whole affair in my

mind my entrance through a parade of unicorns, the shock

at discovering that the Queen was a geisha, the magnificent

dinner laid out with sterling silver plates and goblets and of

course, the very curious voices that introduced their lady. As

I pondered the name she gave I recalled the city where I had

fallen into this slumber. Then, it occurred to me clearly that

Chang Mai wasnt a place named after the queen; rather the

queen was in fact a place. Not a place in the geographic

sense but a place as in a state of mind, after all, I was asleep

and this was indeed a dream. The realization was dizzying. I

might have even woken up at this point if I werent still in

the clutches of the shamans spell.

As I lay looking up at the curtained ceiling above my bed my

thoughts were interrupted by shadows dancing across the

canap. Amidst the shadows tiny sparks twinkled like stars

61


62/104

and slowly spinning planets. I could make out certain

constellations and even a few planets but to my horror I

realized that my perception was not from good old planet

earth. I kept checking and rechecking but I slowly grew

certain that I must be on another planet. The shock

catapulted me out of bed. I craned my head out the window

and gazed upward but still I could not see the full moon that

had greeted me on my arrival. I turned to peer down the side

of the tall tower and in every direction the ground was as

silver-white as the moons surface. I shivered in fear and

jumped back into bed. Having rectified my perspective it

appeared that I was looking at the heavens from the surface

of the moon.

Was this the white earth that the queen had spoken of

earlier?

My mind grew weary, my eyes closed and soon my thoughts

sank like ships slipping over the horizon.

62


63/104

I awakened with no thoughts of the night. So this must be

what Cynthia had described as dreamless sleep. It was as if

the editor had simply removed a portion of the film and

spliced it back together, leaving out whatever might have

occurred between sleeping and waking. In fact, this well

described my experience since arriving in the palace. I

seemed to jump from one scene to the next without

experiencing the usual continuity that gives life its flow. One

minute I was in bed, I found myself suddenly strolling with

the geisha queen in her garden with no transition in

between. Mystically, the moon appeared again, above the

castle towers.

Did you sleep well? inquired the queen, looking as lovely

as ever.

I cant really say, but I did come to realize that you are the

place, or should I say a state of mind that can only come in a

dream.

63


64/104

You are more right than you know. Let me explain.

We were sitting by a well, which may be the reason Chang

Mais voice took on a strange resonance. She spoke with a

depth Id not heard before; it didnt quite fit the small frame

of this demure woman.

Dreams are not the sole province of human beings. They

are the place where the past recedes to the time, for

whatever reason, we no longer have use for the present.

Now, for the first time I felt that I was in the presence of a

royal figure. Chang Mai spoke with authority and I was rapt

with attention to hear what she had to say.

We all, gods and humans, descended from the Great

Mother. She begot mountains, stars and fishes. The whole

universe is her progeny. True, it was through their holy

embrace that Spirit and Soul spawned all that we see, hear,

touch, smell and imagine, but only through the grace of the

Mother did the world became manifest. It is their embrace

64


65/104

that all things imitate in hopes of adding to her bounty.

There was a time when the Great Mother was honored and

the cloak of her majesty was respected throughout the earth

and the heavens. Although she asked for no more than love,

what she received in return was envy. This was inevitable

since humans are prone to forget their maker when they

themselves taste the sweet ambrosia of creation. To bring a

child out of chaos and into life is a miracle. It blinds both

parents to the darkness out of which creation first arises.

The great darkness that resides behind every act of creation

passes into the land of dreams. So tight is the grip that holds

onto the miracle of birth that a greater miracle is lost and

forgotten. This has been the fate of both Mother Soul and

Father Spirit. Their holy embrace has been reduced to

meaningless sensations, sex has replaced lovemaking, and

sentimentality mimics true feelings.

You cant sleep because as it is well known, you live in an

age of anxiety. The sacred art of healing has also drifted into

dreamland and medicines that are anti-nature have been

65


66/104

substituted for remedies that once recalled the healing

powers of Soul and Spirit. This has all become necessary to

achieve a single purpose: human beings can and will

become gods. The Soul may be locked within the dreams of

man and Spirit within the woman, but through the fourfold

interaction of each element the world will be made whole

again. The anxiety that keeps you awake at night is not a

sickness but rather a calling to the great new age that is

coming. You are here to advance the evolution of conscious

wholeness. You are the catalyst the Mercury- that will bring

dream into manifest reality. By order of the Queen you will

not awaken until this deed is done.

I was unnerved by her pronouncement and frightened by her

command. Feebly, I summoned the courage to ask, Those

voices I heard when we first met I stumbled with the next

words but she completed my thought.

are my many voices. Yes, I am the Great Mother.

66


67/104

My mind took off in ten different directions at once, but my

body anchored me too well. I could not move. Then, another

splice and it was back between the sheets again. I was

numb. I kept repeating to myself out loud, Is she really the

Great Mother? Why had she chosen me to bring her back

from the darkness of the past? I am just a mortal human

being and she is a goddess. Why on earth does she need me

to do this deed? Can I?

This time there was no cosmos staring down upon me.

Beneath the white satin sheets I was as naked as a newborn

baby. I wanted to enter the dreamless sleep and forget this

burden that had been laid upon my shoulders. But my eyes

were wide open and the Queens words spun around in my

head like bees looking for the rose. A silhouette appeared

from behind the linen curtains and I knew without having to

think that the Great Mother had come for me.

67


68/104

Naked she stood in the moonlight like a shining alabaster

goddess of Venus. The white make-up was gone and her

flesh glistened with the freshness of morning dew.

There is, I now know, a point beyond sex and even

lovemaking that brings two beings together, regardless of

whether they are human or divine, into a dimension that is

perfectly harmonized with every atom in the universe. Were

consciousness not retained the two would merely disappear

and the whole enterprise would be meaningless. But, when

two beings can hold the awareness of such a meeting,

nothing less than a miracle occurs.

68


69/104

We sat face-to-face, arms around each others shoulders; the

silver eyes of her eyes as she peered into mine, made my

eyes feel like gold. Our breathing became naturally

synchronized and with each breath we sank into the others

skin. The circulation of our blood became one system; our

bodies lost their individual distinction and we were one big,

lovely animal having four arms and four legs. I was blessed

with the thoughts of a goddess and she discovered what

humans think. My seed impregnated her soul; Spirit and Soul

conjoined in holy matrimony. For one split instant of a

second the earth stood still, the planets stopped in their

orbits and for the first time the sun finally broke through the

night.

I awakened to brilliant sunshine and in an instant found

myself standing before the White Queen in the Great Hall.

The unicorns formed a huge ring around us. It appeared that

a formal wedding was about to begin. Light streamed

through every window forming crosses on the stonewalls and

wooden floor. The Queen spread her arms wide as if she

69


70/104

were about to take flight. My green vestments had been

replaced with white silk garments. The ceremony was about

to begin when the sunbeams that only a moments before

were shafts of golden white light, suddenly sharpened into

arrows that struck randomly about the room.

Pandemonium broke out as the horses reared up and bolted

aimlessly around the room. Some of them were killed

instantly when struck by the suns sharp rays. I could barely

see through the dust that had been raised, nor could I hear

over the din of furniture being crushed and overturned.

70


71/104

Despite the uproar the Queen held her countenance and

spoke to me, saying that I should leave immediately but not

forget my charge. Save me from this dream, bring me back

to my mother Earth! With this she descended the steps of

her throne. She tore the veil from her face and cupped it into

my right hand. Then she took hold of the unicorn that had

been my guide. She whispered something into her ear and

the unicorn bowed her front two legs to the ground. Alight

upon this noble beast. She will take you as far as she can go.

Then you must release her.

I hurriedly jumped on the horses back and we hastened

quickly out of the castle. I turned one last time to see the

queen. By now the sun bolts were threatening to bring down

the entire castle. The queen seemed unfazed by the

impending collapse. Her last words to me were, The sun is

rising. Go and defeat the Devil that stands between you and

the Light.

71


72/104

Immediately upon exiting the castle I very nearly fell off my

horse. My eyes, having grown accustomed to the dim

moonlight, were not prepared for the full blast of the suns

rays. The trees that had previously appeared dark and

mysterious were now transformed into leafless twigs. What

was left of the forest now became an endless open expanse

of sand a wilderness. We rode without stopping until at last

I could not see any remnants of the Castle of the Moon nor

anything in any other direction.

This was a desert like none other Id ever experienced. There

were no dunes, palm trees or any vegetation at all. In fact,

the desert floor was absolutely flat and devoid of all life.

My horse rode valiantly, but I could feel her pace slowing

down. The sun blazed relentlessly overhead. I took the

Queens veil and placed it over my face. The scent of the

moon was woven into the silk and it sustained me long after

the unicorn could go no further. Her thick hide had become

like the texture of clay and I feared that she would soon

72


73/104

melt; an image I could not bear. I dismounted. Her eyes were

downcast. I thanked her and sent her on her way. Go home,

go to your Lady and be well.

My white vestments were soaked with sweat. I turned round

and round looking in every direction for some sign of life.

There was none. The white sand made no sound as I plodded

haplessly not knowing in what direction I was heading. It all

seemed to be a hallucination. Heat shimmered upwards in

waves, distorting the horizon. Words randomly flew about in

my mind as I held onto memories. Without them I would

disappear. They provided me the compass I lacked: I knew

not where I was going but at least I knew where Id been. I

tried attaching bits of memory to my present state of

misfortune. And that gave rise to the image of the fortune

cookie and its cryptic message: Sow your golden seeds in

white foliated earth.

Certainly this sand must be the white earth, but what was I

to make of the word foliated. It wasnt a word in my

73


74/104

vocabulary. I toyed with it awhile and through association

recalled that women undergo foliation in their beauty

treatments. Images came to mind of flesh being stretched

and pulled, smoothing out wrinkles and crows feet. Then it

occurred to me that contrary to the weight I should be

feeling from fatigue, quite the opposite was happening. I was

feeling lighter, brighter and whiter. A wind began to blow

from behind. At first it came in waves as if to nudge me

along. With each gust I felt as if gravity was being drained

from my body. I was being foliated; being made elastic,

growing thinner and thinner. I was losing my weight. My

clothes flapped in the wind like flags lashed to a pole. Once

the wind had become constant and I knew what to do - I let

go.

If there is any one experience that makes you feel like a god

it is flying. And here I was sailing along, arms outstretched,

feeling like Icarus. Unlike him however, I had no wings and

no desire to fly close to the broiling sun. In fact, the wind

carried me along parallel to the sand below not more than

74


75/104

twenty to thirty feet above the ground. I felt as light as a

feather as I flew off into the unknown. It was an exhilarating

sensation that seemed to last for an eternity.

My bliss was abruptly cut short when I suddenly crashed

head on into a huge, red tent. I literally bounced off its

angular roof and flew backwards to the ground. I could feel

some of the gravity returning to my body, sufficient enough

to allow me to walk without flying off again. I sat there

pondering this strange and massive tent out of which arose

plumes of smoke and the smell of rotten eggs.

The winds died down and the presence of sound returned. I

heard the flutter of the tents canvas walls billowing like sails

on a boat. Summoning up my courage I made my way to the

entrance. Deftly I opened the front panel and found myself

nose to nose with a brown-skinned, turbaned man. The point

of his sharp dagger was beneath my chin, causing my head

to tilt back slightly. Despite my fright I stared directly into his

eyes as if this would keep me safe.

75


76/104

Its about time, he said at last. He studied my face as if it

were a map of a familiar place. As he lowered his dagger, air

rushed back into my lungs and my heart starting beating

again.

How did you know it was me? I managed to ask.

Have you looked around? There is no one else here but you,

so whom else might I have expected?

Confused and a bit delirious I dropped into one of the many

cushions spread about the tent.

Even in your condition you must be hungry. Have you a

stomach to hold this soup Ive made?

It was actually a good question and I had to put my hand to

my abdomen to make certain that I could indeed hold

something down.

76


77/104

Yes, I replied, I am hungry.

He took out two bowls and with a metal ladle poured the

soup. I removed the Queens kerchief noticing a small bloody

red tear in it. The soup tasted awful. I couldnt imagine what

it was made of. But its effect on me was welcome. It

consolidated my body, adding greater weight that pressed

me deeper into the pillow. My light-headedness was also

diminishing and I was thinking more clearly. Still I hadnt

regained my normal weight and from time to time I would

slip off into the air. It was a bit embarrassing.

We ate without saying a word; in between bites we looked at

each other. This time, it was he who looked familiar to me.

He realized this and said straight out, I told you I would care

for your soul.

77


78/104

I was dumbfounded. It was the shaman! My emotions twisted

and turned like two birds mating in mid air, oblivious to the

earth that was fast approaching.

Its you! I shouted accusingly. You got me into this

nightmare and then disappeared.

You asked for my help. You asked for sleep and so here you

are, fast asleep. He responded casually.

Well thats just fine, but how the hell do I get myself out of

here?! I couldnt get too angry because I knew now more

than ever that I needed his help.

I said I would care for your soul and so I have. You met her

and nearly married her but obviously there is still work to be

done.

You are talking about the Queen. She is my soul?

78


79/104

Of course, how could you not have known that? Why pray

tell would she come to you and even be willing to marry?

She said she was the Great Mother.

Indeed she is, as all souls are.

I was still stunned by my realization that this was the

shaman. But even greater than my curiosity about his arrival

or the Queens identity was my desire to get out of this crazy

dream.

You got me into this sleep, now how do you propose to get

me out? I want to wake up, I said, half-demanding, half

pleading with him.

Your wish is my command. He said in such a way that I

could not tell whether he was joking or not.

79


80/104


81/104

laboratory door. It was made of lead and had a strange

picture engraved into it. There were the images of two

people, a man and a woman in a very unusual position: the

woman was bent over on the left and the man was in a

sitting position on the right; their buttocks nearly touched

and both their left arms were extended behind them. There

were four birds, each seated on their heads and feet. Below

them was a circle containing three hearts with snakes

emanating out of each.

81


82/104

The picture unnerved me. At the same time my curiosity

grew to a pitch. I held it in check sufficiently so that I kept

myself from entering the laboratory. Again, losing my

concentration I found myself floating off to the other side of

the room. In a clever move I thought I might sneak around to

the back of the tent and satisfy my curiosity with a quick

peek. I stole my way to the rear of the tent and as quietly as

possible lifted the canvas just high enough to look in.

Astonished by what I saw I dropped the canvas quickly and

ran back to the entrance. I took my seat pretending that Id

not moved an inch.

Fortunately the door was still shut, giving me enough time to

regain my composure. How could it be that there was no

laboratory? All I saw was the inside of this very same room. I

had no time to digest this thought for at that moment the

shaman returned carrying a large, heavy goblet.

82


83/104

Your spirit is restless. This will settle you down and prepare

you for your next lesson.

Although I wasnt exactly sure what my first lesson was, I

took the goblet and poured its contents down in one gulp. It

felt as if Id swallowed an anchor.

Grimacing and choking I managed to ask, What was that?

Gold.

Silence is Golden

Knowing I could no longer speak, the alchemist said bluntly,

One of the first rules of good sleep is not to be chattering

away when your body is trying to rest. Talking in your sleep

shows that you have not properly shifted from daytime

talking to the other faculties that reign during sleep. For

example, seeing and listening are the skills that will help you

get the most out of sleep. Nature paralyzes your body for

83


84/104

this reason: so that when you are dreaming you will pay

attention. But, like the saying goes you can lead a horse to

water but you cant make him drink. You have much to learn

about putting your mind in harmony with the work. Now that

you are unable to talk perhaps you will listen. But, I enlist

your cooperation. Listening with your inner mind is more

than just hearing sounds. Thus far you have managed to

learn many of the operations of the Art. For the most part

you have been lucky. Mercurius has looked down on you with

favor. But remember miracles favor a prepared mind. Your

journey through Sleepy Hollow taught you the essence of

alchemy. We must dissolve not just our problems in order to

arrive at solutions but in the Work we dissolve our entire

being in order to be born anew.

This was your initiation and you did well to re-assemble

yourself using imaginatio or what you call remembering.

Mercurius blessed you again when you were allowed into the

labyrinth of the Self and there found the hundred-petalled

84


85/104

rose. This gave you access to your Soul, the White Queen.

She gave you a taste of what her wisdom feels like, but you

were not sufficiently ready to have her take permanent

residence in your body. For this you needed to be purified.

The kindly spirits of the winds blew most of those gross

particles out of you: bad habits, negative thoughts, and

disbelief in the world beyond the physical one. You have

learned something of Natures power: the water or solutio,

earth or coagulatio, air and its operation ofsublimatio and

now you face your final lesson: the trial by fire, calcinatio.

I froze at the thought of what this trial by fire might involve.

Come with me. He said in a more gentle voice. He led me

outside the tent and into the flat desert. The sun was near

the horizon and the full moon was rising in the opposite

direction. We waited in silence until the sky was mixed with

an equal share of day and night. The shaman alchemist

walked twenty paces away from me and with eyes closed he

stretched out his arms and his delicate long hands. He

85


86/104

became a silhouette against the purple sky. At first my eyes

focused on the black cross formed by his figure, but then my

eyes lit up as I saw two celestial globes in either hand. I

could not tell the difference. Was he holding the sun in the

right hand and the moon in his left? Rationally, I knew how

much larger the sun was but at this very moment the two

were perfectly equal in size.

Although I could not see his face I heard him say, The Sun

and the Shadow complete the work. The recipe was not

especially spoken to me, but rather he was speaking it for

the world to hear. But, his next words were clearly meant for

my ears. You must create the inner space where all things

great and small have room to exist. Both Queen and King

must be made to feel at home in your mind. Night is not the

enemy to day. Day is not the enemy of night. They are two

sides to the same coin as is everything in life. Your task is to

create the condition where they are held together. Then

possibly all opposites might integrate and become the One.

86


87/104

Then, he switched again to addressing the world, As Above,

So Below for the Making of the One Thing.

In order to find equanimity you must be at one with the

movements of the earth, its mother, the moon and its father,

the sun. With this I watched as he went through a set of

yoga-like movements. First, he spread his feet and arms far

apart, making the silhouette of his body appear like a star.

He then drew his feet together and stretched out his arms

forming the image of a black cross. He held each position for

a several minutes. Next, he brought both arms down to his

sides and moved his feet apart. This time the silhouette

looked like an arrow. And finally, he brought both feet back

together and raised his arms above his head joining his

hands as if to pray. He stood in this way, perfectly straight.

The shadow dance continued through these motions in

complete silence: star, cross, arrow, line.

After a hundred or so repetitions I began to feel their effect.

As I stood speechless I felt movement under my feet. The

87


88/104

more I concentrated on it the more it increased, until at last I

feared losing my balance. I realized that I was feeling the

movement the earth. Yes, this was earth again. It was

familiar but shocking. I literally felt the earth revolving on its

axis. The alchemist then changed to his arrow position and

my attention was directed to the full moon. This time I felt no

movement, but rather an affinity between the earth and the

moon. I reflected on the fact that the moon does not rotate

on her axis. She is always looking at us like a dreaming soul

mirroring the suns distant light.

The alchemist moved again into his star position and again I

felt the movement palpably in my body. Both moon and

earth this time were rotating in orbit around the sun. This

movement was much subtler and I had to concentrate more

deeply to feel the effect. By this time, my body instinctively

mimicked the alchemists movements and with each

repetition the internal effect became more pronounced. In

time I felt the whole orchestration of movements, even that

of the sun speeding through space. It was a calculus of

88


89/104

celestial movement that I could bear for only an instant

before I collapsed dizzied

A Dream for Sleepless Nights, an Alchemical Fairy Tale

Documents

Transcript of A Dream for Sleepless Nights, an Alchemical Fairy Tale