Breathing Under Water

𝐼𝑑’𝑠 π‘›π‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘π‘‘π‘–π‘šπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ πΌβ€™π‘š 𝑖𝑛 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝 π‘€π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘  π‘π‘™π‘’π‘‘π‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘œπ‘›π‘‘π‘œ π‘Ž π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘π‘˜ π‘π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘œπ‘› π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘˜. πΌβ€™π‘š π‘‘π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘ π‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ π‘π‘’π‘π‘Žπ‘’π‘ π‘’ πΌβ€™π‘š 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘‘π‘œ π‘™π‘œπ‘ π‘’ π‘šπ‘¦ π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘ π‘Žπ‘  π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘›π‘‘ 𝑖𝑠 π‘ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘›π‘” π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘’π‘›π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘™π‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘–π‘›π‘”. 𝐴 π‘™π‘Žπ‘‘π‘¦ π‘œπ‘› π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘ β„Žπ‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘π‘π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘Žπ‘β„Žπ‘’π‘  π‘šπ‘’. β€œπ‘ƒπ‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘’, π‘π‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘’, 𝑔𝑒𝑑 π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘œπ‘›π‘’ π‘‘π‘œ β„Žπ‘’π‘™π‘ π‘šπ‘’β€¦πΌ 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘œπ‘›π‘’ π‘€β„Žπ‘œβ€™π‘  𝑏𝑖𝑔 π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘›π‘”β€¦π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘›π‘‘ 𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘šπ‘’ π‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿβ€¦β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘Ÿπ‘¦, β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘Ÿπ‘¦, π‘π‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘’!” 𝐼𝑑’𝑠 π‘‘π‘Žπ‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘™π‘Žπ‘‘π‘¦ π‘ π‘’π‘β„Ž π‘Ž π‘™π‘œπ‘›π‘” π‘‘π‘–π‘šπ‘’ π‘‘π‘œ π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘› π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘šπ‘¦ π‘π‘œπ‘‘π‘¦ 𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘‘π‘œ π‘ π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿβ€¦π‘œβ„Ž πΊπ‘œπ‘‘, π‘œβ„Ž πΊπ‘œπ‘‘β€¦. π‘Šβ„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ 𝑖𝑓 𝐼 𝑗𝑒𝑠𝑑 π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘˜ π‘–π‘›π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’? πΌβ€™π‘š π‘ π‘™π‘œπ‘€π‘™π‘¦ π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘π‘œπ‘€π‘›, π‘‘π‘œπ‘€π‘›, π‘‘π‘œπ‘€π‘›. 𝑂𝑀𝐺! πΌβ€™π‘š π‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘”! 𝐴𝑙𝑙 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘¦ π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘£π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘“π‘™π‘œπ‘œπ‘Ÿ 𝐼 π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘˜, 𝑦𝑒𝑑 πΌβ€™π‘š π‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘›π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘šπ‘Žπ‘™π‘™π‘¦. 𝐼 β„Žπ‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿ 𝑒π‘₯π‘π‘™π‘œπ‘ π‘–π‘£π‘’ π‘ π‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘ , π‘™π‘–π‘˜π‘’ π‘”π‘’π‘›π‘“π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘’. 𝐼 π‘™π‘œπ‘œπ‘˜ 𝑒𝑝 π‘‘β„Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘”β„Ž π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘  π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑠𝑒𝑒 π‘“π‘–π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘¦ π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ π‘‘π‘  π‘Žπ‘”π‘Žπ‘–π‘›π‘ π‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘›π‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘ π‘ π‘˜π‘¦ π‘Žπ‘  𝐼 β„Žπ‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿ π‘šπ‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘π‘–π‘‘ π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘  π‘œπ‘“ π‘“π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘’. π‘‡β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’β€™π‘  π‘Ž π‘€π‘Žπ‘Ÿ π‘”π‘œπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘œπ‘› π‘Žπ‘  𝐼 π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘šπ‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘’ 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑙𝑦 π‘–π‘›π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘ π‘Žπ‘“π‘’π‘‘π‘¦ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘π‘Žπ‘™π‘š. π΄π‘“π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘Ž π‘€β„Žπ‘–π‘™π‘’ 𝐼 π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘› π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘˜ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘Ž π‘™π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘”π‘’ π‘šπ‘Žπ‘› π‘–π‘›π‘ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘™π‘¦ π‘ π‘€π‘œπ‘œπ‘π‘  π‘šπ‘’ π‘œπ‘’π‘‘ π‘œπ‘“ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ. 𝐼 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 π‘π‘Žπ‘™π‘š.

I had this dream a few years ago, shortly after returning from a beautifully educative and nurturing pilgrimage in the land of KMT (Ancient Egypt). It was the final months leading toward the 2016 presidential election when political noise, deception and rhetoric paraded with grandest fervor that reiterated terrifying events and memories of the past and unfortunately ongoing. I recall the sense of dread I felt as I and others in my travel group expressed as we passed through Customs and re-entered the cacophony of U.S. culture staccato-ed on suspended television screens throughout the airport.

Are there things that deeply scare you and you do everything within your power to bypass your fear and vulnerability? Are there ways you hold onto and manage your fear, try to stay afloat, on top of things, in control of your deepest feelings and emotions?

In my dream, I’m losing my grip trying to hold myself together, as if I have the power to do so all by myself. I’m panicky and know that I’m in trouble…my efforts absolutely futile and my only choice is to let go. Thank goodness, a part of me that knows to do just that! There is a Great Current inside of you and me that can carry us through the noise and ruckus in the world, the threat of loss, illness, the death of a relationship, social struggle and hardship. In my dream, the strong Undercurrent, the Woman and the Man are standing in the collective role of the Divine…call it God, the Archetypes, the Source…whatever is the language you use for the Highest Power greater than your own mind and ego. It’s a force that can seem terrifying when you’re used to being in control.

The Woman takes her time to come back to me and the Man is not going to show up until I let go. They are with me all along…but I have to let go of my own devices in order to know my need for Them. We can stay in the panicky place of trying to hold it together on or own, or let go, and surrender to the Love and Support that’s greater. As citizens of this world, we are not guaranteed lives without disappointments, loss and terror. But we are guaranteed that we do not have to suffer alone and ungrounded. We can say, “I’m afraid, I’m feeling insecure, I’m embarrassed, I feel judged and ashamed”…all the taboos that society says, “Don’t feel!” And from the place of our soul’s honesty we can know and receive the support in and for us that comes from the Divine. Allow that support to carry you to new depths of consciousness so that you can become more empowered, resourceful and truly passionate in whatever is your role or purpose in this life. Yes, back on the shore there will be rocky boulders, and noise, and chaos AND you will be different in it as the one who is carried by the Great Master, the Divine Teacher and Healer, the Archetypes…the Ones who alchemize our fears, suffering and insecurities into the Calm of acceptance, self-love, internal order and balance, real joy,Β  real power, and radical change. Are you learning to breathe in deep waters?

If you would like to know more about Archetypal Dreamwork or discuss one of your dreams, reach out to me at email me directly at nowjourneyhome@gmail.com.

Love,
Cheptu

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My Second Grade Teacher

Back at my childhood home last week, I found something else. As I wrote in before, my mother saved EVERYTHING! She served as Clerk of our community church for 33 years and saved all the church records and bulletins from special programs and services. She kept the programs for every funeral held at the church and all the funerals she attended elsewhere. Well guess what I found? The memorial service program for my favorite childhood teacher, Mrs. Johnson, my second grade teacher at Parkersville Elementary School! I LOVED Mrs. Johnson!

Mrs. Ernestine Johnson _thumbsize

Second Grade was quite a transitional year for me. I attended three different schools in three different states. I started out at the school on Stewart Air Force Base in Tennessee where my dad was stationed…just a week or two, though, because we were reassigned to Florida, where I attended most of second grade. We (Mom, siblings and I) left Florida after eight months because of our troubles due to my father’s struggle with alcoholism. It was an abrupt departure with many mixed emotions . . . forbidden to be spoken of.

It was the last couple of weeks of school year when I arrived in South Carolina.Β  Mrs. Johnson was my teacher and she was very kind. The entire school was in a flurry of final preparations for the school-wide end-of-year program where each grade had a song or dance presentation. And how lucky for me that my teacher played the piano! I’d never seen anyone play one up close and my eyes were always glued to Mrs. Johnson’s fingers as they magically frolicked across the keys.

I remember the melody and dance steps to one of the songs where girls wore brightly colored skirts of paper flowers…

Step front, back 1-2-3
Step front, back, and-a 1-2-3!

And although I wasn’t able to participate in the program, I didn’t feel left out or isolated. Mrs. Johnson and the warmth of Parkersville welcomed me. It was like the Balm in Gilead for my hungered soul.

 

Aunt Lucy’s Coat

Over the weekend my sister and I were at our family home continuing to purge closets and endless boxes of items my late mother had collected over many years. In Mom’s β€œInspiration Room” closet, we found two fur coats she had inherited from her dear sister, our Beloved Aunt Lucille. One was an adorable custom design trimmed in fur with matching hat… a fitted bodice with a pleat and a bow… so Coco Chanel… so fashionably Aunt Lucy!

Aunt Lucille was my favorite aunt…generous, kind, open, trusting, sensual and comfortable in her own skin, with an adoring husband who was a reflection of God’s generosity and love. As my sister and I poured over grateful memories of Aunt Lucille, I silently reflected on her many lessons. I, unlike Aunt Lucille was very independent…fixated on it in such a way that I felt that my success solely depended on my effort, and not experiencing success somehow indicated a failure or shortcoming on my part. It was difficult for me to be open to certain unseen opportunities and other good things that were also possible. Of course, I’ve since gained insight concerning some of the factors that reinforced those tendencies, and part of my earthly β€œmetamorphosis” has been about learning to surrender in order to receive… to let go so that more can come in. Truly, no small thing for a β€œdo-it-yourselfer.” In a recent dream the Archetypes remind me about trust:

I have an itch in my back and can’t reach it because my arm is injured. A man builds me a short bristle brush attached to the wall so that I can rub my back against it. There’s a shift and I’m wearing a short cloak like Queen Ramonda’s in β€œBlack Panther.” I’m wondering how I’m going to relieve my itch while wearing it. Then I’m wearing a full-length fur coat…luxurious, gorgeous… but how will I relieve my itch while wearing it?

Duh, it’s not about the itch, Cheptu! I chuckle seeing myself in this dream. Of course, my arm is disabled because it’s all about me learning to be in the adequacy of the One greater than me. My gosh, if my Beloved cares about the little itch on my back, won’t he care for me in the cloak of my empowerment? The cloak and even a full-length fur coat don’t present any problems for my itch…it’s just all in my head.

Sometimes we must surrender the need to figure things out and simply accept the gift. Trust that you are being led, that you are being shaped and formed, and your needs supplied. Untighten some of that grip and allow the Universe to step in. Allow the path that is uniquely yours to unfold. We are in many ways like Wakandans. No two had the identical path or role. You just pick up yours and wear it. Walk in your own skin and trust the Universe to do what it does with generosity, power and provision and even a little comic relief when you need it. Wear the cloak and Journey Home.

Love,
Cheptu

HOMEGOING

Dream: I’m with a large group of African people…hundreds…walking through an underground passageway to a dock where we’ll board a ship. It feels so familiar, as if I have been here before. We’re all walking in the same direction with a sense of purpose. Large metal rust-covered planks on the ground connect us to the massive vessel before us…not a ship, but more like a ferry boat. It’s crowded, with hundreds, maybe thousands, and still more to get on. I feel anxious, hoping there’ll be enough space for me. A lady is near me…tall, large, bold…like a Nigerian market lady in one of my children’s storybooks. She shows me how to call out to someone far away by using her powerful diaphragm muscles. β€œYaa-Yaa!” she shouts in a gutsily strident tone. I call one syllable as loudly as I can, but not nearly as strong as hers. I finally get the hang of it and call both syllables heartily with my full voice. Mahershala Ali appears. He’s standing right beside me! I feel comforted by his presence and know he’ll be with me for the rest of the journey. I like being both near him and the lady. I feel full, celebrated and connected to everything and everybody.

This is a celebration dream that means so much as I compare it to a much older dream, the first one I recall having that directly referenced or took place on the African continent. In that dream of seven years ago, I’m a girl child who gets separated from my tribe. I’m assaulted and transported to a Nigerian marketplace where I surreptitiously try to communicate to others that I’ve been abducted and need help. Men are lying around lackadaisically, as if in a daze. They can’t help me. Some women attempt to intervene, but gunfire breaks out and I am killed. About a year later I have a dream about being manacled by my wrist in the bottom of a slave ship. A dream of abject pain and misery that left me with waking life physical symptoms that took 2+ years of qigong and bodywork to clear.

Of course, the two dreams are trauma dreams referencing my ancestral past related to the transatlantic slave trade. I understand today that the people in the marketplace couldn’t help me in the dream because they are also captured and traumatized. I carried the memory of all of it in my cells and bones. I spent years working through the trans-generational shame around my blackness because of the legacy of colonization, chattel enslavement and constant beating of pervasive American racism. I underwent processes of eradicating the shame, deconstructing faulty thinking, and re-educating myself from a healthier African perspective. I studied and traveled near and far in the pursuit of primordial wisdom and experiences to set my mind on a different path and learn how to remain grounded when my trauma gets triggered. It was powerful, dedicated, persevering work.

Those dreams paralleled additional layers of my inner work. I also had to look at my β€œshadow material,” the ways that I had co-opted with the lies I had learned and the ways I covered my shame and vulnerability with my β€œgo-to” shells of aloofness, false pride, pseudo-independence and over-responsibility. My dreams also showed me my blind spots and shortcomings…after all, it’s about setting the soul free from ALL its shackles and bondage. AND it’s a continual process of becoming, hence, the Now Journey. In my ferry boat dream, not only am I returning to my geographical and spiritual home, but I’m also returning home metaphorically. β€œHome” in my body, “home” in my psyche…home in my inner support systems that more accessible to me now because I’ve worked through my trauma. There’s no abandonment or captivity here!

I’m enjoying the gift of feeling alive, celebrated and reconnected with throes of support all around me and in me (it’s been there all along, but now I am more conscious of it). Mahershala Ali (an actor who I greatly admire, respect and love) stands in the role of the Divine Male. He is not lackadaisical or traumatized, but very present. And the Divine Feminine (represented by the Nigerian market lady) is not trapped, but free and bold and gutsy. In the beginning of the dream, there’s a part of me that feels separated, although I’m in the presence of the many others. When I feel separated, my anxiety rises and my old fear kicks in that there won’t be enough, or that I might get left behind. Somehow, I intuitively know to go to the Market Lady/Healer because I end up right beside her. It’s when I acknowledge my vulnerability and know my need, that I know to seek help. And isn’t it interesting how in the dream, as soon as I call out with my whole heart, the Mahershala/Divine Male shows up. He was there all along, I just couldn’t see him when I was in an anxious state of mind.

Many persons are born with the immense capacity to hold embedded memories and the energies of their current and past lives and ancestral stories. These stories tell of greatness, but also tell of tragedy. Our dreams reveal, with astonishing clarity, the conglomeration of all the things we’ve had to do to survive trauma. They also reveal the ways we quell the dissonance in our minds when snippets of truth come to us that we feel safer to not see, not feel, and not know.

My cultural/ethnic background and historical experience gives my dreams a particular flavor. Your β€œflavor” may be different because of your historical or ethnic background, but what’s common among us is that our dreams are always leading us β€œhome,” back to our true nature, before the terror, separation, humiliation and deprivation. Our dreams are sometimes sweet and compassionate, sometimes confrontative. Sometimes somber, sometimes engagingly comedic. Sometimes tender, sometimes with awe-filled force; however always serving our highest good. When we pay attention and open ourselves to their messages, and partake of the β€œmedicine” they bring, we can be led through the tunnel of all the trauma and the β€œhiccups” back to higher ground to reclaim our primal, authentic juice…back to true and lasting joy.

HOMEGOING . . . that’s what the Now Journey is all about.

With Love,
Cheptu

Super Moon to Spring!

Dear Ones:

I am here. I had a challenge. I got stuck. I made steps to start my FB page and group and share the gifts my Creator placed in me, and for which I have studied and practiced many years. I stepped out into this wider social media and then I froze. I got scared. Have you ever been afraid or felt an energy that holds you back or makes your deepest desire seem insurmountable? Not everyone experiences this, but I sometimes do. It ties back to old, old trauma fear and shame…some of which is unfamiliar to me in this lifetime, yet I somehow carry the residuals of it in my bones. I also know incredible love and support even in the darkest places and am reminded to step towards it, to trudge through the malaise to return to the promise of my β€œNow Journey.” I am here, and I am writing.

Two nights ago, in the middle of the night, while passing by my bedroom window I noticed the Super Moon in its iridescent glory. I was transfixed by its presence and began to β€œwash” my face with its energy and asked its holy presence for whatever it would take to help me move, write, and connect the loved ones who honored my invitation to sit together in the places called, β€œNow Journey” and β€œThe Healing Theatre.” I returned to bed and in the morning, I remembered a dream from long ago. In this dream I get off the bus for my destination which first stops me at a fork in the road. I must decide which way to go. Along the way, I morph into an infant child with other infants. We end up at the entrance to a church or some other sacred edifice. We are all naked. As I recalled the dream day before yesterday during the wee hours of the morning, I was reminded that in order to receive the promise of my β€œheavenly” calling as and Archetypal Dreamwork Guide, I must be truthful, open, honest and undefended…like a newborn child. I thought about my role…that it’s not about giving advice or hiding behind the role of an unaffected β€œexpert.” But rather, it’s about standing in the nakedness of my soulful truth, with the power of transparency and vulnerability…about being real with people who also want to be real. I went to post…uh-uh…too scary…this vulnerability stuff. I signed off my computer before I could log into my website.

I wrestled through the day and all through the following night (this morning) with the imminence of this thing calling me to get it together and write and post and embrace my wider audience. When I could tolerate the malaise no longer, I get up shortly after 3:00 AM, wondering if the celestial being just outside my bedroom window would still be there…to comfort and challenge me, assist me once again. I peek through my window tops which are uncovered, sifting my eyes through the stoic branches of trees awaiting their springtime dance… There it is! The radiant moon even more glorious and colorful than the night before. Wait a minute…today is March 20…the Spring Equinox is approaching! I surrender my heart and my fingers to simply glide along these keys on my computer keyboard and write. I will not allow the Equinox to pass before I post something, and so here I am, now an hour and minutes before the equinox at 5:58PM EDT.

In my most recent cycle of dreams I’m with a tall, dark man whom I love, who gives me an extraordinarily exquisite bouquet of roses. We are nuzzling in a warm and intimate way and three strong and beautiful women wearing beautiful afros are standing nearby…all wanting to support me in my new endeavor. The Man in my dream is the archetype referred to as the Animus…my inner Lover, my Supporter, my Teacher, my Friend. In my dream he promises to help me do all I am called to do, including all this social media stuff, which in a way, is my β€œchurch.” Nearby is a baby Boy (in my dream I call him the β€œLotto Boy”) who is now grown and can fulfill all of his potential. The Boy is the archetype who represents need, desire, autonomy and doing. In my dream are also three glorious women sporting round afros that look like halos…they are the triple Anima who support with me in the continuing process of my healing. They all remind me to call on them, my sacred realm of inner characters when I get stuck or the voices of shame and fear attempt to silence my calling.

Upon this cusp of the Spring Equinox 2019, I celebrate renewal, rebirth and joy! I celebrate the coming of the Light that blesses you with courage, hope and wisdom. I celebrate the Light that expels all darkness, confusion and blockages. I offer each of you and the Universe, my prayers of gratitude and thanks. I pray that your lives will be filled with power, joy and beauty, and every other blessing of Spring.

With much love from the one Journeys Home,
Cheptu

Sankofa

Sunday evening I attended a wonderfully uplifting concert of classical music, art songs and spirituals in honor of Black History Month. β€œSankofa” was the title of the eventβ€”a word in the Twi language of Ghana that means to “go back and get it.” The program note read:

Β β€œSankofa teaches us that we must go back to our roots in order to move forward. That is, we should reach back and gather the best of what our past has to teach us, so that we can achieve our full potential as we move forward. Whatever we have lost, forgotten, forgone, or been stripped of can be reclaimed, revived, preserved, and perpetuated.”

I thought to myself, β€œWow, this is what I do as an Archetypal Dreamworker…this is what my own experience has been!”  It’s been about going back through the annals of the past recorded the unconscious to get clarity and heal that which needs to be healed, and fetch and reclaim one’s Soul force, one’s primal essence…the most powerful manifestation of oneself in this current life. Sankofa describes what the β€œnow journey” is, what Now Journey Home is all about.

Very often, our primal essenceβ€”our innate, spontaneous natural β€œjuice”—gets locked up in trauma, often traumatic childhood experiences that reshape the way we view the world and experience ourselves in it and with others. Sometimes those traumatic experiences connect to experiences from the β€œgreat past,” i.e., prior lives or through our ancestral lineages. Our dreams, even the universe will come to our aid to awaken us to what’s hidden, not to re-traumatize us, but to help us move through blocked energy and bring opportunities for clarification, healing, clarification, new insights and the retelling of the story in a more conscious context.

I remember one of my earliest dreams that began to pour in following my divorce in 1989…

I’m out west with Dee (a man I was dating at the time) who has a big scar on his thigh. He says his leg was β€œslashed open” in a skating accident that happened a long time ago and he covered it with a towel. β€œMy wife is a nurse,” he adds. He then puts on a pair of roller skates and zooms past us (I’m with a group of friends) with his head tucked between his legs and his arms wrapped around his lower legs. He zooms through big water puddles and we’re surprised that he doesn’t try to avoid them. His face gets wet and covered with mud. Is he showing off, trying to be comical? No one laughs. He does not stop—he just keeps going and never returns.

I remember my total befuddlement following the dream…my curious alarm and sadness evoked by very visceral feelings that stay in my body for several days. My only relief is to make the dream about my waking life relationship with Dee, to worry that he would break up with me and never return. Of course, I now understand that Dee was standing in the role of the Animus, the Male Divine archetype who often appears in our dreams as a loving, supportive or teaching presence; and other times as the Animus Provocateur or trickster. In my dream, the Animus is showing me my wound. He’s provoking me to pay attention to a wound that was only superficially covered. Both elements of pride and shame are in the dream, both I knew very well…like twin siblings glued in my psyche. Of course, Dee’s β€œwife” would be a nurse! She would be the Anima, the Feminine Divine who heals us, especially from shame. This is a prologue dream, an invitation dream to several rounds of trauma work that, at least at an intuitive level, I’m ready to face into with the help of my inner Divine Parents.

However, at the time, my intellect doesn’t know what to do with the dream. I’m not working with a counselor, therapist or dreamwork analyst, so projecting all over it about my status with my boyfriend keeps me distracted for a while, but that doesn’t last very long. My interior world a perpetual state of disoriented days and restless nights. Shortly afterwards I have another dream…this one closer to β€œhome,” set in one of my childhood homes:

I’m inside the house and feel trepidation. A man is there. He feels familiar…my father??? Prince, our pet cat is put outside with a bowl of milk, but somehow, it’s wanting to come back in. I can’t let it come back in because, for some reason, I feel suspicious about it; and besides, my sister is allergic to it. Large smooth round stones are stacked at the entry door so no one get in or out. I feel that something bad is going to happen.

I definitely do NOT want to deal with this dream. I don’t know what to do the haunting feelings my dreams are bringing me. I do some independent research about dreams, but nothing is resonating. I bury myself in my work and other outer world activities hoping the feelings will just go away.

Meantime, still in waking life, it rains one night. I slowly awaken to β€œdrip…drip…drip….” Am I dreaming? Flat on my back I lay on my bed in the silent haze of the black night. I’m transported to some place deep within the coffers of my psyche, feeling utter powerlessness, vulnerability and abandonment which adds to the malaise I have been avoiding from my recent dreams. I fully awaken only to discover that it’s not a dream. My beloved sunroof window is leaking onto my bed! In disbelief I ask, β€œWhere are you God? Β Why cannot you protect me from the elements from your heavens imposing themselves on me drip by drip? Why are you doing this?” Where, how will I get the money to fix this? I’m already struggling…why? Why? Why? That was a Friday.

Two days later it’s Sunday, September 30, 1990 at Christ Fellowship Church, a non-denominational charismatic church that I recently started to attend. This Sunday, John and Paula Sanford are the guest ministers. Stationed in Northwestern U.S.A., they lead an inner healing ministry through which they help individuals transform painful effects of early life trauma on the present through guided imagery while facilitating the presence of Jesus or some other significant faith figure into the process. Wow, everything they’re saying resonates with me…so thankful I came to church today…I almost stayed at home!

It’s the end of service, before the Benediction. They invite people to come to the altar for intercessory prayer. Oh, no, I don’t do this. Yes, I’m curious about all this Pentecostal, charismatic stuff, but there is a limit to what I will and will not do! I feel awkward. Here, for the first time in my life since I was 12 years old, I am sitting as a congregant in a church, not employed as a church musician. Here, I get to sit in the pews and worship and pray and be ministered to. Yes, Christ Fellowship’s understanding of spiritual gifts and dreams and visions, etc. innately moves me. But, no, I don’t run down to the altar for someone to pray over me…too much exposure. I can do that in my seat on my own!

People proceed to the altar and are prayed for and things begin to slow down. At some point, I believe it was Paula who calls for people to come who are in need of healing from childhood wounds. I say to myself, β€œThat’s me,” but my “hmph-fy” attitude prevails, and I remain in my seat. I become distrustful of what’s happening, wondering if this is some kind of staged hoax. Then John takes charge. He closes his eyes and begins describing a scene…saying that he sees a young lady with a leaky ceiling and the rain is coming down…that he wants to especially pray for this person. By this time my entire radar is at full alarm and I’m sitting fully upright, saying to myself, β€œThat’s me!” But I drift back to my quacking mind, wondering how did they find out about my leaking ceiling? I’m trying to recall who would know about it? I told no one…except the roof repair people…and it’s not even fixed, yet. I haven’t told anyone else because I’m embarrassed to disclose that I don’t have the money to repair something so basic…my house. My mind is spinning. I settle back into the pew, but still hyperalert and curious. John and Paula make a final appeal and with no additional seekers, John begins saying the Benediction. Suddenly, Paula interrupts, stating that their work is not finished. She asks to go back to the childhood trauma scene…to the lady with the leaking ceiling. Her eyes closed, she says, β€œI see this person, a woman….she’s laying on her bed and she’s being exposed to the elements, all alone and afraid.” She continues: ”There’s something about her childhood home….I see a man, maybe her father…who is drunk with alcohol and causing a major ruckus in the family home.” By this time, I’ve flown to the altar, for this is my exact history.

I felt that my prior dream had been about the chaos inside of my childhood home precipitated by my father’s alcoholism. That was a place where I felt vulnerable, helpless, trapped. I didn’t want to remember those scenes. I was young when it was happening…@age 3-7…and I witnessed unspeakably cruel emotional and behavioral domination and physical violence perpetrated against my mother’s body. Way, too much for my tender heart, which left me unimaginably confused and afraid of him…of all male authority figures. It made me feel dubious about my own body, my girl body. It shattered my understanding of what love is, what it should look and feel like. I had to hold two pieces…the Daddy who I loved and who I knew loved me when he was sober, and the cruel person he became when under the influence of alcohol. I had blocked it out of my memory so I could move on with my life. And years later when my dreams began to raise these things into consciousness, I avoided them because it felt too scary to deal with. So the Universe upped the ante through the synchronicity of my leaking ceiling and John and Paula’s ministry, to help me trust that a Greater power was at work for my healing, for my good.

I don’t remember what proceeded immediately after going to the altar. I recall both John and Paula laying hands on me and me falling to the floor…a now embodied understanding of what it means to be β€œslain in the spirit.” At some point I came back into my body and John and Paula were still there at my side. The ushers helped me to the front pew as the Benediction was pronounced and John and Paula ministered to me a little while longer in private. This was a major breakthrough past my pride and independence…an opening to a profoundly sacred closet in my soul that had been facilitated by this very powerfully and spiritually surrendered couple. From that point forward I became more focused on my inner life and committed myself to understand more about this mysterious β€œtheatre” going on in my head at night when I was asleep. I sensed that I would be taking a step of faith while at the same time knowing that I had inner help through my dreams, outer help through specially called persons, and the cosmic grace of the Universe. I had nowhere to go but forward in the mystery of it all.

Do you have dreams that stir you deeply…sometimes difficult, fear-inducing dreams you cannot make sense of? If they are coming to you, then your Soul is communicating your readiness to deal with their messages, of course, according to your will. This work is about going back to move through the energies of the past that linger in your bones, your cells and psychic memory. This work is about releasing your Soul Child from the tentacles of the past that keep you twisted, blocked and β€œsafely” smaller than you are meant to be. It’s about getting back your true potent Self so you can move forward with your life in a more authentic and glorious manner. It’s about slaying the demons of the past and emerging valiantly from your own Hero’s Journey!

If you would like to know more about Archetypal Dreamwork as a form of inward journey and personal β€œhealing theatre,” please stay in touch via this blog or my Facebook page “Now Journey Home.” I’m just getting my social media coordinated and up and running, so pardon it’s imperfections, but we’re moving forward. If you need help with a dream, please reach out to me at my dedicated email address nowjourneyhome@gmail.com.

Sankofa, and Much Love,

Cheptu

DREAMWORK SUMMIT: Unveiling, Exploring and Living the Messages from Your Soul

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FREE Online Event
The Dreamwork Summit
November 13-16, 2018

What if you could access all the wisdom you need for living a happier, healthier, more fulfilling life… from your nighttime dreams?

Imagine if your dreamtime could provide you with the necessary insights to integrate your soul’s deep knowledge and create the life you desire.

Well… it actually does.

Paying attention to your dreams and deciphering the messages living in the images, symbols, characters, and landscapes that appearΒ canΒ be a magical experience. And today, anyone can practice dreamwork… and reap its many benefits.

Some dreamers find themselves visiting other realms β€” even past or parallel lives β€”Β  which help to inform and move you through blindspots and places where you get stuck in this present life. Clarity, healing, passion, and ultimate purpose are accessible to you through the messages of your dreams, this is why .I’m excited to invite you to join me forΒ TheΒ Dreamwork SummitΒ where a global gathering of leading dreamwork experts, renowned psychology professionals, and inspiring authors β€” includingΒ Robert Moss,Β Jean Shinoda-Bolen,Β Sandra Ingerman,Β Lynne McTaggart,Β Grandmother Flordemayo,Β Toko-pa Turner,Andrew Holecek,Β myself,Β and others β€” will be sharing a uniqueΒ variety of dreamwork approaches and ways to open to your inner guidance.

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I’m honored to be among 20+ leading teachers in this first-ever Dreamwork Summit, sharing insights from my own experience and practice of Archetypal Dreamwork that have helped to heal, transform, enliven and expand my life.

I hope you will join me for this groundbreaking four-day online gathering presented by The Shift Network.

To attend the summit, RSVP here for The Dreamwork Summit β€” at no charge:

https://shiftnetwork.infusionsoft.com/go/dws18a18706/a18706

Now journey home!

With Love,

Cheptu