Somatic Dreamwork

Ever since my first exposure to it in a class called Dreams & the Body taught by Karen Jaenke, somatic dreamwork has become one of my methods of choice, both when doing my own dreamwork and when working with others.

Somatic dreamwork involves listening to your body, and specifically finding where dream images live in your body. According to the somatic dream theorists, dreams live in our bodies in much the same way memory is stored in our bodies. The dreams stay in our bodies until we unearth and work with them.

How does one connect the body and the dream? A great technique is focusing, developed by Eugene Gendlin, who wrote one of my favorite dream books Let Your Body Interpret Your Dreams. Basically, the dreamer closes her eyes and focuses on her body while holding the dream or a specific dream image in mind. Usually within a few moments a body sensation or felt sense appears. It can feel like a stabbing pain, a murky unpleasantness, a warmth, tingling in the thigh...any number of sensations can appear.

After finding the felt sense, the dreamer stays with it as long as comfortable and tries to see what the sensation has to say. This can involve asking it a question or merely staying with it to see what comes up. In my experience, what the felt sense has to say surprises the dreamer and leads to an "a ha." Other times, the felt sense moves around like a slippery fish, trying to escape detection. Usually though, if the dreamer stays with it, she will gain insight into what the dream had to say through the body sensation.

While working with Karen in a recent session, she asked me to feel a specific dream character in my body. Immediately I felt nauseous, one of my least-favorite sensations. However, I tried to stay with the nausea. As I watched it and allowed it to be present, it began dissolving and eventually morphed into relief. Instead of pushing against the nausea, which had a specific message, I allowed it to appear and held it gently, listening to its message. After I received the message, it did not need to remain and it disappeared. This is important: often body symptoms have a great deal to teach us if we are willing to listen to their messages rather than pushing or medicating them away.

Remember my friend with the house dream? I used somatic dreamwork with her, asking her to feel where the house lived in her body. It turned out that the house was her body. This caused her great surprise and gave her a valuable message.

I recommend trying this the next time you have a dream you can't figure out. Choose the most potent image from the dream. Close your eyes and ask the question, "Where does this live in my body." Give it time to appear. Follow your body sensations...do you have a crick in your neck? A warmth in your leg? Any sensation you have is valid. Then stay with the sensation. Arnold Mindell would recommend amplifying the sensation, making it more intense in order to get its message. Then ask the sensation what it wants to tell you. Listen. If it moves, allow it to move and simply follow it with your attention. Patience and an openness to your body's messages are key.

I've found that these methods get past all the complicated work with symbols and archetypes. Don't get me wrong: I love work with symbols and archetypes, but sometimes I want to find the message of the dream in its pure and immediate form. And this method can be incredibly and deeply healing.

Coming Full Circle

Life moves in circles and cycles. It's a simple fact, but sometimes we forget. Until something happens that shakes us out of our stupor.

This morning I opened an email from the East Bay Artists Guild. The email had an attachment, an entry form for the Guild's upcoming winter show. I remember hearing something about it several months ago, but it hadn't piqued my interest then.

When I opened the attachment, I saw the universe at work. The show is taking place at the Aspen Surgery Center, the very part of the hospital where I had my surgery this summer. I remember walking down the long hallway toward the waiting room, seeing the art on the walls, and thinking, "My photos would look good in here."

And so we come full circle. I am entering three of my photographs, including the one above, into the show. My photos will hang on those walls. I suppose I'm giving back a little beauty to the place that played a vital role in my healing.

Brave and Bold

I have moved into a much better place regarding the cyst. After I moved through the shock, fear, and anger, I came to a place where I saw the cyst as an ally, as I had before. But this time it's on a much deeper level.

I've asked it what it needs. It answered: let out your anger. Heal your trauma. Create more. Write more. Take more pictures. Be your authentic self.

It has much wisdom.

After hearing its needs, I made a commitment to establish a window of time for creating each week. This could include writing, painting, drawing, taking pictures, or coloring...anything that fuels my inner child and my passion for creating. This week I took my Lensbaby to the park and captured images of the red leaves and the November roses. I also did the final edits on a chapter I'm submitting to an anthology my professor is editing. It felt wonderful to give this to myself. But I won't leave this out: on Saturday I sat at the dining room table feeling incredible angst because I had a huge block about drawing. So I had to go to bed without fulfilling my desire to create. It's definitely a process.

That's what I've done on the spiritual/emotional side. On the physical side, I've also made some changes. Although I briefly took my doctor's advice and went on the birth control pill to hopefully shrink the cyst and stop ovulation, my body quickly protested. After eight days I stopped taking it and I feel much better, even with the pain from the cyst. I've opted instead to get acupuncture and my first appointment is next week. I also started restorative yoga sessions which I highly recommend to anyone, I signed up for dreamwork sessions with Karen Jaenke, a powerful dreamer, and I tried a somatic experiencing session, another technique I enjoyed. I want to dive right into the cause of this ailment to find out what is behind it. I know that is the only way my body will heal.

I also started working with my dreams on my own again, which is probably the best decision I made out of all of them. I came up with powerful insights I'd chosen to ignore the first time around. Let's face it: they weren't easy to admit to and now that I've acknowledged them it's going to mean more big changes in my life. But it's all in the name of healing, and that's what I've come to the table to do.

I feel brave and bold. I can handle this and come out even stronger on the other side.

A New Layer of the Healing Spiral

It came back. The cyst came back. In the same place, the same size, just two months after the surgery to remove the last one. I sit in disbelief, wondering what else my body wants to tell me, what else I need to learn from this situation. I thought I'd already tackled the issues and come out triumphant!

I can't concentrate at work. I feel defeated. I feel angry.

Luckily, the cyst doesn't require surgery like the last one -- yet. Instead, I have to go on the pill to try to shrink it and to prevent ovulation, which will hypothetically prevent more cysts from forming.

Although I'm glad surgery is not imminent, I'm unhappy about going on the pill. The last time I took it I was depressed, anxious, had no interest in sex, gained weight, and felt nauseous each morning. But I'm not sure there is an alternative. And I don't want to be in pain anymore. Which is worse? Pain or side effects? It's a difficult choice to make. Further, none of the options are that appealing. I'm in the first few days of taking the medication and I have no idea what is in store: manic depressive mood swings? Nausea? Headaches? Racing heart? Hopefully none of the above.

I'm scared. Scared that the cyst could burst at any minute, which is a possibility. Scared that the pill won't help. Scared that I'll have to have surgery again and maybe have the ovary removed as a last resort. Fear has won this round.

But, in my better moments I am hopeful. I can see that this is another opportunity for growth, another moment to stop and evaluate, another time to reach out for the support surrounding me. I know that I will make it through this. I have many tools at my disposal: dreamwork, intuitive work, and many healing practitioners amongst my friends who can help. I'm grateful for that. At least I have that.

Healing Strategies

My surgery is set for August 11, so I have two weeks now to prepare. During the last week I have explored many options to help me through surgery and recovery. I feel incredibly lucky to have friends and colleagues who have given me a wealth of ideas.

One resource landed right in my lap: my friend Lisa brought me a CD produced by Kaiser Permanente called Preparing for Successful Surgery. The CD, created by Belleruth Naparstek, has led to reduced anxiety, more successful surgery, and less pain after surgery even after listening once (read a study done on the CD here). It includes three parts: guided imagery to prepare for surgery, a series of affirmations, and guided imagery for healing. I've listened to the CD twice already and I can attest that it dramatically reduces anxiety and has helped me manage my pain. I am considering asking to listen to the CD during surgery, something Bellaruth suggests on the CD.

Another practice I'm utilizing is healing through dreams. This happens in several ways and I've experienced a couple of them. The night after finding out I had to have surgery, I dreamed that my one-year-old nephew (who turned one the day I found out about the surgery) was healing me with his hands. It was a powerful and uplifting dream.

That same night, an amazing elephant came to me in a dream. The elephant petted my head and face and I awoke with an incredible sense of calm and love.

A few nights later, I dreamed of a beautiful macaw perched on my right arm, and a cockatoo perched on my left arm. The two flew off, swooping down over the canopy of an immense rainforest and crossing paths before disappearing into the greenery. When I awoke I consulted Ted Andrew's Animal Speak and learned that macaws are a symbol of healing for some South American groups.

So now I have two new healing allies: the elephant and the macaw. I can return to these dreams at any time to gain further healing or work with the energies of elephant and macaw. I can also call on owl, hawk, and bear, my main dream allies to help with healing. I am a novice at dream healing, though, and I would like to learn more about this technique.

The third piece of my healing practice involves buying a plush uterus and ovaries from the fabulous I Heart Guts. It is a humorous move that will inject fun into my healing, and it also holds meaning for me. I know if I can hug an adorable representation of my female parts it will help me send those parts love and healing.

Another strategy for me is performing a ritual to honor the cyst and its message. In this ritual I will thank the cyst for bringing wisdom and send it energy for successful removal. I look at the surgery as a kind of birth; the cyst representatives my creative energy and the trauma I've stored within me for years. When the cyst is removed, my creativity will be unleashed in a new way, and, on one level, the trauma will be released.

I also plan to have a reading and healing done at Intuitive Way the weekend before my surgery. The readers will look at my energy and also the mock-up (or intention) I have for how the surgery will go. I hope I'll be in a really good place by then as a result of listening to the guided imagery CD. After the reading, I'll get a healing on my aura, chakras, and sexual organs. With that under my belt, I should be ready to go!

With all of these strategies available to me, I feel more secure about my ability to handle and recover quickly from this surgery. If you have any additional thoughts or suggestions, please let me know.

Why It's Important to Listen to Your Body and Your Dreams

My body and my dreams are infinitely wise. They patiently send me signals that I mostly ignore, but sometimes, on my better days, I listen. Now I plan on making it a regular practice to humbly and respectfully listen to what they have to say.

I've had intense dreams, many of them including disintegration, dismemberment, bloody animals, knives, and things lurking in the shadows, since January. It was apparent these dreams were telling me something, but I wasn't sure what. And I never wanted to entertain the idea that they were about my health.

I've also had a twinge in the left side of my pelvis for probably two years. At first it was tiny and I dubbed it my intuitive twinge...many times when something was not quite right, this area would twinge and I'd thank it for its message, a message that usually saved me headache.

However, for about the last six months, that twinge morphed into pain. The pain became debilitating during my period, something that only a few people knew about, and only my husband had witnessed until last weekend. A friend came over on Sunday and saw me in my pitiful condition. I was weak, barely able to stand up to walk her to the door. When I saw her reaction to my state, I knew it was time to go to the doctor.

I'd recently been given the name of a gynecologist by another friend and on Monday, I made the call. They got me in yesterday.

I have to back up a moment and tell you that I've been avoiding gynecologists for years because of trauma suffered during previous gynecologist visits. I had a male gynecologist make derogatory comments about my body when I was a teenager and a female gynecologist do a rectal exam without telling me first. A third gynecologist failed to help me with recurring yeast infections. I gave up on Western doctors at that point. So, although this twinge became more and more persistent, I ignored it, hoping it would go away so I didn't have to deal with the gynecologist. Also, I didn't want to deal with bad news.

Back to yesterday. I visited the capable and friendly doctor. I explained my symptoms. She gave me a pelvic exam and then brought out the ultrasound machine. And that's when she found a 6" cyst attached to my left ovary.

I began to cry. I cried because I was scared, overwhelmed, upset, and I felt guilty for not coming in sooner. She told me I need surgery. It is a complex cyst, both fluid and solid, and although she thinks there is a tiny chance it is cancerous, she has to make sure. It has to come out or it will continue to grow and cause me more pain.

When I left the office, I called Lance in tears. I've moved past the guilt and the intense fear, and I've come to a better place thanks to many phone calls and conversations with friends. I know that I'm going to be okay. It's laparoscopic surgery so it's minor, outpatient, and minimally invasive. The recovery typically only takes a week. And after that, my greatest wish is that my periods will no longer cause me debilitating pain.

As part of my process, I've thought about this growth on a symbolic level. I believe, because it is a complex cyst made of fluid and solid mass, that it holds two things: my creative/feminine self and the trauma I've accumulated over the years. The fluid is the creativity, the solid mass the trauma. Once it is removed, I will have truly given birth to my beautiful creative feminine side and I will have removed the trauma holding me back.

I know it is important is to work with this on an energetic level as well. I plan on exploring therapy, dreamwork, psychic healing, and visualization techniques during the three weeks until I go to surgery. And I'm also going to hold a ritual for the energy of the cyst to honor the wisdom it is bringing me. Everything happens for a reason, and my body created this to send me a message. I plan to deeply explore what that is so I can learn from it and move on.

It's going to be quite a rebirth. And, like any rebirth, it is scary, dark, and risky. But once I come out the other side, I will have new gifts and wisdom to share.

Post-Conference Reflections

Experiment with Lensbaby...see more at my Flickr

I've been back for nearly two weeks, and I am in awe of how the dream conference shifted my consciousness. I had an inkling before I left that something major would happen in Chicago, but I tried not to think about it while I was there lest I find significance in irrelevant things like how the waiter folded my napkin on the third night. I believe looking for synchronicity is a fine art, one that takes discrimination (although, I suppose one could argue there is significance in everything!).

The more I think about what message the conference brought to me, the more I see two clear themes emerge: I need to make my health my priority, and I need to stop hiding myself and my talents.

About my health: I had one of the most challenging weekends I've had in a long time this past weekend, experiencing pain that had me in bed for two days. I have avoided Western doctors for four years and yesterday, on the recommendation of a friend, I finally sat down and made the call. I have an appointment tomorrow. I'm a bit scared and I am trying not to let my past experiences color what I have in store for me. My hope is that I will get questions answered and that there is help for me that doesn't just include taking medications or getting surgery. I want to get to the core of the problem and take measures to truly heal it and prevent it from returning.

Making that phone call felt monumental. It tells me I am finally ready to take care of myself, that I am finally ready to listen to the signals my body and my dreams send me regularly. I tend to punish my body and I've started to wonder where I think that will get me. It deserves my respect and attention.

About sharing my talents: This is a recurring theme for me. I tend to make myself small, something I learned growing up. But all the messages in the last two weeks have been to ignore that urge and to instead be BIG. To bravely put myself and my talents out there. And to stop apologizing for who I am, hiding who I am, and feeling I am not good enough. I am good enough. People do want to hear what I have to say, and they want to see what I create.

As a result of this revelation, I am even more firm about my conviction to send some of my children's manuscripts back out to publishers. In a month I'll receive the brand new edition of the Children's Writers and Illustrator's Market and right now I'm polishing three manuscripts so they'll be ready to send when the Market arrives in the mail. Look how far I've come. Four years ago, I dissolved my contracts with my old publisher and I began a downward spiral, believing my career as an author was caput. This rebirth feels scary and painful and absolutely wonderful.