Finding Connections to God Through Dreams

Johnson: Inner Work

“All forms of interaction with the unconscious that nourished our ancestors—dream, vision, ritual, religious experience—are largely lost, dismissed by the modern mind as primitive or superstitious. In our hubris, our faith in our unassailable reason, cuts ourselves off from our origins in the unconscious and from the deepest parts of ourselves.”—Robert Johnson in Inner Work: Using Dreams and Active Imagination for Personal Growth (Harper & Row, 1989).

My spiritual director recently posted this quote on Facebook. It is an affirmation of an alternative path that many are beginning again. Our book group reread the revised version of Joyce Rockwood Hudson’s Natural Spirituality. Recently, we were in a clergy group, and announced that we were studying Natural Spirituality. Two members who had recently finished seminary had no idea what we were talking about. They were even more in the dark when we mentioned dream work and maybe a little suspicious. However, older clergy in the group had been studying dreams for some time and affirmed the value of the study.

We have been involved in dream groups for over thirty years. Dreamwork is one of the many ways to discern what God calls us to do. My experience is that it is vital to participate in a group of people studying their own and each other’s dreams. Unfortunately, most of us find it challenging to discern dreams by ourselves. 

There are many factors to consider. Dreams tell us something we don’t already know. Parts of ourselves may block new information.

Think of our experience in other discussion groups when novel ideas come up. At least one person invariably flings out an automatic “no” to an alternative way of doing things. “That is not how we have done it in the past.” It always takes time for the entire group to process the information and decide to go in a new direction.

Likewise, a dream group of friends looking at a dream from outside of our own ego may gently guide us in a new direction that the automatic “no” part of us might have shut down. We look for these insights into our inner life until the light bulb turns on inside and outside us. I like Joyce Rockwood Hudson’s subtitle of her book, A Handbook for Jungian Inner Work in Spiritual Community.

Joanna https://www.joannaseibert.com/

The Spiritual Practice of Fishing

Spiritual Practice of Fishing

“If, then, I were asked for the most important advice I could give, that which I considered to be the most useful to the men of our century, I should simply say: in the name of God, stop a moment, cease your work, look around you.”—Leo Tolstoy in Essays, Letters, and Miscellanies (Scribner’s, 1929).

All the fishermen I know are early risers. Some go out on calm rivers often with an experienced guide.

I also know other fishermen who prefer the larger waves of the ocean.

I sit outside each early morning on the Gulf Coast just after sunrise, and watch lone surf fishermen come like clockwork to the water’s edge with fishing rods, fishing rod holders, buckets, bait, and folding beach chairs. They are early risers, arriving before the pelicans, seagulls, and dolphins come out of hiding. The members of this all-male club mark their territory as they spike two rod holders into the sand, which are the only signs of human presence. Then, they unfold their chairs, bait their lines, cast them beyond the roaring, white ocean’s surf, and sit and wait between the two holders for the rods to jump and bend. 

The nibbles are infrequent, so they spend most of the time sitting and staring out into the Gulf. They peer out as if they can see all the way beyond South America. They do not take out their cell phones or read books. Instead, they wait patiently, usually for several hours, presumably with great faith that their efforts will connect them to the gift of unknown food from beneath the sea.

One fisherman describes some days of fishing, feeling the joy of being a young boy again. On other days, he identifies with Hemingway’s struggles in The Old Man and the Sea.

I have become so fascinated by watching the fishermen that I recognize them by their walk, what they wear, whom they talk to, when they come out, and how long they stay. When I speak with them, they teach me a great deal about spirituality, faithfulness, and how to surrender to a spiritual practice. Indeed, some fishermen refer to their daily routine as a spiritual practice, while others would be appalled at giving their fishing exercise such a name. Nevertheless, they all agree that this recreational sport brings them peace; most realize it is not the fish they are after. It is re-creation.

Perhaps this uncertainty, grounded in faith, is also part of our spiritual practices: Centering Prayer, saying the Rosary, walking the labyrinth, praying, fasting, Lectio divina, and worship. The peace comes in offering time, a piece of our life, to the practice, rather than always reaching any goal or making or receiving a connection.

My second gift from our fishermen is that I have stayed grounded, connected to my surroundings, and living in the present moment by observing them. The fishermen are teaching me about looking beyond the turbulent water’s edge and having faith that there is something greater than any of us, constantly connecting to us.

Joanna.   https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Early Riser

Early Riser

"Wisdom is radiant and unfading,

and she is easily discerned by those who love her,

and is found by those who seek her.

She hastens to make herself known to those who desire her.

One who rises early to seek her will have no difficulty,

for she will be found sitting at the gate."—Wisdom 6:12-14.

Many of my spiritual friends are early risers. Early morning is their time to read, meditate, or write before the business of the day begins. I once walked around our neighborhood in the early morning, before going to the hospital to work. Now I look out of a floor-to-ceiling picture window, watch, and wait for the sun to come up and the appearance of cardinals, blue jays, and woodpeckers at my feeder.

At the beach, I like to sit outside and feel night becoming day. I look forward to feeling the Gulf breeze and watching the water creatures gather to begin their day. The Gulf is their home. They are local. We are visitors. The lone osprey circles high above the waves. The single blue heron swoops in and slowly struts on his stilts to be as close as possible to the early morning fishermen at the water's edge, hoping he will receive their small rejections. The pelicans fly in military formation, so close to the waves that they must constantly get their feathers wet.

The early risers are like the myrrh-bearing women at the empty tomb on Easter morning, whose feast day we celebrated on August 3rd. They rise early, living in the present moment, not knowing what they will find. Each new morning offers the possibility of a resurrection experience, a new beginning—and they will find it daily as the sun majestically rises above the horizon with its color guard, especially on Sunday mornings.

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/