Have you ever been in a place of “between dreams”?
When one chapter of your life is ending and another is waiting to begin?
I certainly have. I wrote this verse about it:
In the place of between dreams
What unfolds cannot be seen
The soul cries out,
Please give me space
Dance, sing, pray
Walk on in grace
I first heard this term, “between dreams”, an aboriginal saying, a few decades ago while attending a week-long retreat in the Canadian mountains led by my longtime friend and soul sister, Julia Press. Julia embodies Divine love.
This retreat changed my perspective
Since “between dreams” was a theme for many participants in this retreat, we spent some time exploring how to be in relationship with this space.
Early in the week we made masks of our own faces.
Unlike previous retreats where we had decorated our masks with color and glitter and feathers to express our individuality, we left these masks pure white.
On the evening of the ritual we dressed in white.
The room was lit with candlelight. We were asked to enter one at a time in silence and with sacredness, find our mask, put it on and then stand in a circle in the center of the room until all had gathered.
Julia asked us to lie down on the floor on our backs with our heads toward the center of the circle.
“It was a breathtaking mandala of humanity in transition,” she says.
Soft, ethereal music was playing. Julia led a spontaneous meditation about letting go so completely that this was like the day of our death, allowing us to fully be “between dreams” without knowing what the experience would be.
Julia and beautiful Bea covered each of us with a shroud from head to toe.
The music deepened. I felt supported and safe in this sacred circle. We were on our own soul’s journey and at the same time we were journeying together.
We lay there for a long while in stillness.
Time to rise from the dead!
We slowly rose, leaving our old “shroud personas” behind and began to look through the eyes of “between dreams”. As our silent, white forms slowly and gracefully moved through the room, we softly gazed into each other’s eyes. We began to embody “this place of not knowing, this newness that had not yet formed into something,” as Julia so beautifully describes.
“Between dreams” felt beautiful and comfortable.
I felt myself smiling behind my mask. We were dancing in the space of infinite possibilities. The Presence in the room was palpable.
Coming back to our circle, we took off our masks.
“The sharing was slow and deep,” Julia describes, “and the experiences people shared were incredible.”
Contrary to our common cultural beliefs that we must always know what the next step is, this ritual offered a new way of stepping into the unknown for me. It offered an opportunity to embrace “between dreams” as a vital, breathing, sacred space that can be honored and enjoyed. Decades later, it continues to inform my experience.
What would it feel like to trust the place of “between dreams” like the magical place between the ocean tides?
As always, I’d love to hear your comments.
Blessings and love,