Underwater

I was underwater.  Part of it was welcome, all the pain was being cleansed from my body.  And I welcomed that sensation.  But I knew I was beneath something, and there was a world above me that was full of light and fresh air.  I imagined somebody pulling me up to that air.

I had the fear that the mushrooms were evil.  That they were sucking my soul away.  And leading me from the path of God.  I had the image of me being married to some Woo Woo woman who was the daughter of the darkness or Satan.

Then I remembered the intention not to push away the "evil" that I was hear to alchemize it.  Bring it inside.  That Christianity had created a false dichotomy of separateness and that all was the light of the divine.  And today on my drive in, there is the sensation that I can control this, and that is the human path, to swim in the oceans.  And that as David Dupuis wrote in that article I am interviewing him about, that is the shaman's path.

Also there was a familiar image.  Like a dream I had, a very foreign dream but all where the characters were nothing like humans and the interactions were nothing like humans but it was running underneath everything on some parallel line.  And I'm getting this more and more, vague remembrances of some other non-human way of life, always involving struggle and redemption.

Its nice to be underwater.  Its nice to breath the air.