Today I found a thought provoking website from David MacDonald. It is for building bridges between Catholics and Evangelicals. This Catholic convert has used his very tumultuous previous experience in the secular big-city art scene as a powerful tool for evangelization.
His caveat on New Age got me to thinking. He summed up the problem with it very well. It draws from ancient traditions but OMITS their ancient spiritual safeguards and moral principles. Its all about having personal spiritual experiences, but the element of rootedness in Tradition, deep unchanging Truth, is missing.
Acknowledging this problem opens the way to much discerning clarity that can promote our work for re-integration of po9sitive life-affirming values into our culture..
Traditions, Christian, syncretic and non-Christian alike can find more common ground once people recognize that the problem lies not with, for example, Hinduism, but with modern-day relativism. As cooperation in movements such as prolife and homeschooling show, true adherants of Tradition share many commonalities.
Christians can draw from the truths of other traditions in ways that further affirm and clarify Christian values, and counteract the impact that historical heresies-such as that "dominion over the Earth" sanctions environmental destruction, and that slavery was good and proper-had on Christianity. These Truths are respect for Nature and awareness of the help available from saintly Ancestors. God-the Lord of Hosts- communicates through many messengers.
As I have personally experienced, stronger and more complete Truths can reach people from more varied experiences. Its like building access roads to the highway of Christ.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Reincarnation: Not Just Running Around in Circles
Just a clarification for Christian friends and family who may ask," How can a Christian believe in reincarnation?"
I do not believe in infinite incarnations, but that God, in His Infinite Power, Wisdom and Mercy, can provide reincarnation as a means of working out the kinks we throw at Him in our finite power and misuses thereof.
Orthodox Jews believe in a finite number of reincarnations, or gilgulim. It comes from the Hebrew "to roll." I have heard that the maximum is four. Interestingly, some Hasidic Jews also believe tht sexual transgressions result in returning as the opposite gender. Just recently I learned from a hindu co-worker that Hindus do not believe in infinite reincarnations either. According to my colleague, they believe in a maximum of seven. After that, you either enter Eternity with God or if you don't get it right by then, POOOOF!!!
As I understand it, though there are some minor differences among denominations on faith vs. works regarding salvation, everyone believes that sin distances you from God while living a proper life brings you closer. Jews say "Mitzvah gorreret Mitzvah and averah gorerret averah." Keeping a commandment leads to keeping more Commandments, but sin leads to more sin. We certainly see this in our lives. Reincarnation offers someone who has sinned in one lifetime a chance to come into the world with a different set of strengths and weaknesses especially suited to address and repair the results of their sin and prepare for a closer relationship with God.
As far as the number of incarnations, I believe that is God's business, He is the ouly guarantee, and life is a precious gift that should not be taken lightly whether it is received in one, three, four, seven, or seventy installments.
You should also not judge a human life based on its perceived "quality." God gives each individual what they need. I have a mild visual impairment. However, I happen to know that God gave me enough ability and opportunity to have a significant amount of freedom and enough physical disability and limitation to not have the option of taking it from others out of anger. Actually I have more freedom than most non-disabled people in our culture because I was not readily included in its hypersexualized aspects, in which people are manipulated, exploited and pitted against each other to break down families and communities and create the emptiness of superficial relationships so they seek satisfaction in consumption.
Considering how and why I came into this world it would have been a major bummer to have been screened out by an amnio.
I do not believe in infinite incarnations, but that God, in His Infinite Power, Wisdom and Mercy, can provide reincarnation as a means of working out the kinks we throw at Him in our finite power and misuses thereof.
Orthodox Jews believe in a finite number of reincarnations, or gilgulim. It comes from the Hebrew "to roll." I have heard that the maximum is four. Interestingly, some Hasidic Jews also believe tht sexual transgressions result in returning as the opposite gender. Just recently I learned from a hindu co-worker that Hindus do not believe in infinite reincarnations either. According to my colleague, they believe in a maximum of seven. After that, you either enter Eternity with God or if you don't get it right by then, POOOOF!!!
As I understand it, though there are some minor differences among denominations on faith vs. works regarding salvation, everyone believes that sin distances you from God while living a proper life brings you closer. Jews say "Mitzvah gorreret Mitzvah and averah gorerret averah." Keeping a commandment leads to keeping more Commandments, but sin leads to more sin. We certainly see this in our lives. Reincarnation offers someone who has sinned in one lifetime a chance to come into the world with a different set of strengths and weaknesses especially suited to address and repair the results of their sin and prepare for a closer relationship with God.
As far as the number of incarnations, I believe that is God's business, He is the ouly guarantee, and life is a precious gift that should not be taken lightly whether it is received in one, three, four, seven, or seventy installments.
You should also not judge a human life based on its perceived "quality." God gives each individual what they need. I have a mild visual impairment. However, I happen to know that God gave me enough ability and opportunity to have a significant amount of freedom and enough physical disability and limitation to not have the option of taking it from others out of anger. Actually I have more freedom than most non-disabled people in our culture because I was not readily included in its hypersexualized aspects, in which people are manipulated, exploited and pitted against each other to break down families and communities and create the emptiness of superficial relationships so they seek satisfaction in consumption.
Considering how and why I came into this world it would have been a major bummer to have been screened out by an amnio.
Legacy of Slavery=Culture of Death
http://www.madison.com/wsj/home/local/451235
This is appalling, but not surprising. Prolife activists have always said that abortion is a slippery slope and the disrespect for life would gradually expand to hit closer and closer to home. First they select from unborn children, then they select from already born children, then they select from grandparents....and the circle radiates onward and outward. I think of the famous saying by Martin Niemuller, a mamber of the Confessing Church which split from the German State Church undre the Nazis: First they came for the Communists, then they came for the Jews, then they came for the criminals.....and then they came for me and there was noone left to speak out."
What determines "Quality of Life" according to these culture of death definitions? Being able to work and copulate? Determining "worth" based on those criteria sounds all too familiar.
This is appalling, but not surprising. Prolife activists have always said that abortion is a slippery slope and the disrespect for life would gradually expand to hit closer and closer to home. First they select from unborn children, then they select from already born children, then they select from grandparents....and the circle radiates onward and outward. I think of the famous saying by Martin Niemuller, a mamber of the Confessing Church which split from the German State Church undre the Nazis: First they came for the Communists, then they came for the Jews, then they came for the criminals.....and then they came for me and there was noone left to speak out."
What determines "Quality of Life" according to these culture of death definitions? Being able to work and copulate? Determining "worth" based on those criteria sounds all too familiar.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Our Ship is Finally Coming In.Let's Not Miss the Boat!!
When I was a teenager, I belonged to an organization called "Beyond War." They believed war was an outdated means of resolving conflict, that we were moving toward a post-national world, and encouraged identifying as "global citizens." This group was the first to encircle the world by live satellite linkage in 1986 for the presentation of a peace award to an international antinuclear group called "Five Continent Peace Initiative." The Nuclear Freeze movement was going full throttle then, and I was privileged to encounter such activists as William Sloane Coffin, great grandson of the Underground Railroad activist, Levi Coffin.
I read about the history of other movements, such as Abolition and Civil Rights, in which people of multiple backgrounds cooperated for positive good. These movements extended beyond the issues of the day to fundamental questions about the nature of humanity, society and God.For reasons I do not fully comprehend, the antinuclear and environmental movements of my teen years were not diverse. (I know economics played a role, but impoverished people were involved in Abolition and Civil Rights, and they were most affected by environmental degradation and the out-of-control arms race of that time.) However, they DID address fundamental existential questions-and often lamented the lack of conversation partners. Young activists were taught respect for the Earth. Good-I was naturally connected to Nature and for once did not feel threatened by people standing by while what I understood to be an extension of myself was destroyed. We were taught pacifism. Good-though I never completely accepted it, it lent some balance and coping skills to this kid who used to win fights with her older sisters by trying to strangle them. We were taught integration and internationalism. Good and bad. Bad that we were not encouraged in our own history and traditions. Liberalism still suffers from the loss of connection to Ancestors and the advantages that "Traditional" values of any culture bring. Good because, despite the place for cultural divisions and uniqueness, we are an increasingly connected society. Global institutions, challenges and awarenesses are rapidly evolving and it is imperative that we develop a language for positive change and development on this scale. This is a social and spiritual language as well as political and economic.
There are many paradoxes-Catch 22s-in social reform today. Good little Resistance Caucasians were raised on peace and integration as moral dietary staples. Then they go to a meeting of Africans who are trying to establish just and culturally appropriate institutions FOR THEMSELVES, emphasizing the importance of space to do this-and seemingly chucking the fundamental values of every successful social justice movement-and the values that we have been taught are necessary for global survival- out the window. However, whenever I've listened a bit closer, I have found that they mean no harm, and will give respect as it is given. Frankly, I am generally awed and humbled by their patience and have found openness when I have been open and honest. When I've looked a bit deeper I see amazing concrete contributions of this self-centered (in a positive way) activism to individuals, families and communities.
On the other hand, the antinuke folks were basically right. At the deepest level, practically and spiritually, separateness is an illusion. I have found "my space" in this truth for my entire life. Many of the principles I learned in the antinuclear movement, and in Christianity are basic to my own healing and advancement. However, unlike most Caucasians, I did not transform and advance into these beliefs from a Caucasian identity-I FORMED my first identity there as a way of coping with my particular spiritual and ancestral situation. As a result, I don't feel that I have to PROVE my universality. I'm all for peace but can also say without compunction that my main personal problem with shooting up the KKK-or Saddam hussein or any other terrorists or tyrants- is that nobody will give me a gun due to my visual impairment. I'm not much good at helping Caucasians (or anyone) undo racism because I honestly don't get where they are coming from. I work best at the crossroads where cultures meet. That is why I work with immigrants. That is why I am a member of one of the most intercultural Catholic parishes in the world. And that is why I know that what counts first and foremost is what God wants, not what makes us comfortable and that respect entails BOTH mutual respect of space and extending-and recognizing and accepting-invitations to other spaces-even if we don't resonate with the envelope they come in- because NOBODY can build transformed selves, families and communities that are disconnected from a transformed world.
I read about the history of other movements, such as Abolition and Civil Rights, in which people of multiple backgrounds cooperated for positive good. These movements extended beyond the issues of the day to fundamental questions about the nature of humanity, society and God.For reasons I do not fully comprehend, the antinuclear and environmental movements of my teen years were not diverse. (I know economics played a role, but impoverished people were involved in Abolition and Civil Rights, and they were most affected by environmental degradation and the out-of-control arms race of that time.) However, they DID address fundamental existential questions-and often lamented the lack of conversation partners. Young activists were taught respect for the Earth. Good-I was naturally connected to Nature and for once did not feel threatened by people standing by while what I understood to be an extension of myself was destroyed. We were taught pacifism. Good-though I never completely accepted it, it lent some balance and coping skills to this kid who used to win fights with her older sisters by trying to strangle them. We were taught integration and internationalism. Good and bad. Bad that we were not encouraged in our own history and traditions. Liberalism still suffers from the loss of connection to Ancestors and the advantages that "Traditional" values of any culture bring. Good because, despite the place for cultural divisions and uniqueness, we are an increasingly connected society. Global institutions, challenges and awarenesses are rapidly evolving and it is imperative that we develop a language for positive change and development on this scale. This is a social and spiritual language as well as political and economic.
There are many paradoxes-Catch 22s-in social reform today. Good little Resistance Caucasians were raised on peace and integration as moral dietary staples. Then they go to a meeting of Africans who are trying to establish just and culturally appropriate institutions FOR THEMSELVES, emphasizing the importance of space to do this-and seemingly chucking the fundamental values of every successful social justice movement-and the values that we have been taught are necessary for global survival- out the window. However, whenever I've listened a bit closer, I have found that they mean no harm, and will give respect as it is given. Frankly, I am generally awed and humbled by their patience and have found openness when I have been open and honest. When I've looked a bit deeper I see amazing concrete contributions of this self-centered (in a positive way) activism to individuals, families and communities.
On the other hand, the antinuke folks were basically right. At the deepest level, practically and spiritually, separateness is an illusion. I have found "my space" in this truth for my entire life. Many of the principles I learned in the antinuclear movement, and in Christianity are basic to my own healing and advancement. However, unlike most Caucasians, I did not transform and advance into these beliefs from a Caucasian identity-I FORMED my first identity there as a way of coping with my particular spiritual and ancestral situation. As a result, I don't feel that I have to PROVE my universality. I'm all for peace but can also say without compunction that my main personal problem with shooting up the KKK-or Saddam hussein or any other terrorists or tyrants- is that nobody will give me a gun due to my visual impairment. I'm not much good at helping Caucasians (or anyone) undo racism because I honestly don't get where they are coming from. I work best at the crossroads where cultures meet. That is why I work with immigrants. That is why I am a member of one of the most intercultural Catholic parishes in the world. And that is why I know that what counts first and foremost is what God wants, not what makes us comfortable and that respect entails BOTH mutual respect of space and extending-and recognizing and accepting-invitations to other spaces-even if we don't resonate with the envelope they come in- because NOBODY can build transformed selves, families and communities that are disconnected from a transformed world.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Dreams from Childhood
Recently, I was privileged to attend a discussion led by a respected Babalawo from Oyotunji Village. In the course of the conversation, I mentioned some experiences from childhood that alluded to aspects of my family history unknown to me at the time. I answered very generally because to do otherwise would have taken too much time from others to speak and listen. So--here they are.
I had seven experiences-dreams and one pre-sleep vision- between my 12th birthday and about four months before my 15th birthday. I had another which I put in the same category this past early Spring. Because they were so intense I understood them to have messages.
I will describe the first later.
Here is the second.
March 19, 1982
I was 12 years old, spending the weekend with my paternal grandparents in NC and I had the following dream. A little girl, perhaps four years old, with a full head of dark curly hair and wearing a frilly antebellum dress was clinbing up onto a giant antique chair with a rich burgundy cushion. I was worried that she would fall.The next scene she was standing on the ground holding a small seedling in a paper cup. A white wolf approached and devoured her.The small seed took root next to her remains. It grew rapidly into a tall tree. Then a loud voice like a trumpet (yes, really) said
"(Indeterminate pronoun) WILL COME BACK FORTY TIMES MORE POWERFUL!"
Interpretation of the dream
The little Antebellum girl was my great great grandmother. She was also the seed AND the cup, reflecting her probable biological parents "Peedee" the enslaved man (discussed later) and Annie Fry, the overseer's wife.
The majestic burgundy (blood-colored) chair represented the genteel white society and Christianity, which I saw--in 1800s and in 1982-- as the property of the master class. I saw both of these things as simultaneously oppressive and unapproachable (in both lives) and hence worried that M., raised as white, would fall. She did not fall. That was a message for me, who was observing the chair scene from below, to trust and take advantage of opportunities.
The white wolf was the abuses and threats that M.'s descendants suffered after the Civil War. It also represented the loss of the black half of her heritage. After she was eaten, the seed grew to be her many descendants, and her life persisted and flourished as her remains (her character and faith) nourshed them. I heard the voice from the top of the tree, high up, not down below. That foretold my return to Christianity and indicated that she had a role in it. I was both the original seed ("Peedee") and a later descendant.
The Hebrew letter mem is also the number forty, and is associated with transformation as it is seen to depict the womb. It also is associated with mayim, water, and mikveh, the ritual bath used for purification and conversion.
The dream pointed to my rebirth as a woman -and hence more powerful regarding certain emotional and linguistic aptitudes which I desperately needed in order to have any chance of surviving.
Most importantly, however, it pointed to a corrective in my relationship to God, which is what I believe reincarnation is for.
The third was really cool for a middle schooler. This light-ironically BLONDE being (this intrigued and surprised me at the time) told me that there were four levels of being, status quo people with word with a lot of s's that I did not know (perhaps assimilationist) Rebels, Doctors and Balancers. These were in order from spiritually weakest to strongest. It said I was NOT to be a Rebel, but that if I survived I would end up midway between Doctor and Balancer. I understood that the Rebel tears down harmful social structures, and the Doctor remediates the symptoms of social ills. I wasn't clear what a Balancer was, but thinking about it over the next few years kept me out of trouble. The being had a strong energy of peer-friendliness. Now I think the being could be ++++++ Annie Fry.
The fourth turned out to be a premonition of sorts. I was bouncing around in this really springy kudzu down a hill by the side of a road and saying this poem: "highly do the winds now blow-the ultimate solution. Signs of change begin to show-the winds of revol-uuuuuuu-tion!"I floated around in the air on the "uuu" like I was connecting into an uplifting wind, in both senses of "uplifting." I found the area a couple of years ago-a boat access point for the Peedee River off of I-70. I even tried jumping around in the kudzu but I just sfffushed back into it. I recently read that sometimes field slaves would do leaping dances near the graves of Ancestors (if fortunate to have such resting places) during secret worship sessions. FYI blessed Peedee water makes kickin' Holy Water.
The fifth was scary. I found a lot of sick and dead people abandoned in a locked room behind a stage full of orange traffic barricades. there were signs saying "Danger-Keep out" but I ducked and ran under them. I then went back onto the stage and protested it by screaming at the audience. I wish they had been more explicit. It took me 20 years to find out who they were. But at least I had the mindset to look. That was really scary and disturbing for anyone, much less a youngish 13 year old. In studying history, the image that most seems to match that place is the holding pens for slaves awaiting sale.
In the sixth dream I published some kind of writing called "Glorious Reparation." I did not know what the word meant. I thought it was not a real word but a cross between "repair" and "preparation." until I looked it up. Really. looking at social reform, "repair" and "preparation" are two sides of the same coin. We must repair pur transgressions, whether as individuals, family members or societies, and in so doing, we are "preparing" for many things: future life and ultimately eternity, the responsibility that comes with freedom and self-determination (I think of our Middle East brothers and sisters here), for living in an ecologically sustainable manner, for handling various new technologies in a manner consistent with a Christian life ethic.
The seventh was between sleeping and waking and more intense than a dream. It was political and premonitory in nature. I will give it its own post.
The recent one about a year ago was a non-verbal image but it served me well for empathy and understanding how some people-like my students- process their emotions and experiences. It was like a brief firsthand experience of my GGG Grandfather's childhood. I was standing in lush clover and looking at a big white plantation house. It had columns. I was a child, but stronger than I ever was this time. I could sense I was stockier and stood more steadily. Suddenly I had a tremendous, inexpressible sense of lonliness, loss and anger. I believe it was a sudden sense that nothing was mine. Later, Granny from early childhood dreams gave me a soccer ball and I ran across the lawn kicking it, pleased to control it and own something. Then I was swinging, up into bright BRIGHT blue sky. A child who had been bullied could not get their swing going, so I stopped mine to help. "You would really stop your swing to help me?" they asked. I said, "Yes, Christina will always push me high again." Christina is the baby my parents lost. the name may have also been a reference to Christ.
Except for the barricade dream and the first part of the last one, these were really fun experiences. As I write I also see they had a process as well-the first four building my allegiance and identity, the fifth testing my strength and giving a task (solving the mystery of the barricade people-my ancestry) and the sixth, seventh and eighth connecting me to the world through education, political awareness and, finally, a personal resonance with history. As well as beginning again recently, many pieces about these experiences and others in my life seem to be fitting together to make a complete picture. There is a Nigerian tradition that these experiences are more common among the young and the old, so I wonder about them occurring at mid-life.
Here are some other things that occurred that I think are relevant.
My mother had a near-death experience when she gave birth to me. She floated down the long tunnel, feeling very peaceful. She intuituvely knew what was happening and prayed, "God, don't take me now. I have other children and I just had a new baby!" Thankfully, she came back. I was a week late, but the docs had told my parents I wasn't coming for a while. They went for pizza after the checkup. While they were eating, someone tried to leave without paying and the owner ran after him with a gun. Mom got scared and here I came. Interestingly this probably made me a Sagittarius instead of a Capricorn. Christianity frowns on horoscopes, but the actual origin predated the Greeks. Catholicism allows for recognizing truths in other traditions as long as they do not usurp the authority of Christian teachings.
I was born with congenital glaucoma and had 13 surgeries by age 7. Three times at ages 1 and 2, I was given the anasthetic ketamine hydrochloride. My reaction was extremely adverse. My medical records indicated that my parents said it took more than 24 hours for me to reorient after the first administration. I had multiple phobias and terrible nightmares. After a physician said that he didn't like ketamine because it gave the kids nightmares, my parents ordered the doctors to cease using it. There is at least one case of them using it again after the orders however, and some of the medical records are missing so I really don't know how often I had it.
I recall one incident when I believe I spoke of the past life. I was perhaps 3, playing hide-and-seek with my siblings. I was hiding in a closet with my 9 year old sister. There was the element of danger and suspense since someone was looking for me, but also a very strong sense of being safe and protected. And most of all, a sense of promise, an exciting and uplifting adventure--a momentous journey.
"This is like all the night of closet!" I chirped happily.
"What?" said my sister, "all the Nile closet?"
"Nile" seemed familiar somehow..."No," I corrected her,"All the night of closet."
She started laughing. "All night in a closet??? What are you talking about?"
"ALL THE NIGHT OF CLOSET!!!" I was getting irritated.
"I'm sorry," she said, "I don't know what in the world you are talking about."
A few years later, perhaps first or second grade, I asked my mom if everything that you could think of was happening somewhere in the world at any given time. I gave the example of if there was always a car wreck somewhere. She answered yes. My actual question was whether time was sequential with a set "past" and "future" or an all-inclusive static state of affairs. She inadvertently told me it was the latter.
(OOPS! I think I'm still sorting that one out.)
That was around the time I stole the Harriet Tubman book from the school library because I really wanted to read it but the teacher said I was too young.
1990-1992
Believing that Christianity was a tool for negative social control, I had left the Catholic Church of my birth for Judaism. I since returned to the Church, and that journey is a topic for another time.
Judaism is tolerant of reincarnation, especially the more Orthodox you go. I believed that I was the reincarnation of Joshua, a Polish secular Zionist member of the socialist labor bund who was in a concentration camp and died in the Holocaust. He was missing a little sister and had lived a secular lifestyle. Some images did not fit. There was a house that was too big and ornate for Europe. There was mud and red bricks. I kept seeing a river, but when I heard that the ashes of the Holocaust victims were placed in the Vistula, I thought that was it. Plus, my mother's father, whom we did not know, was Jewish. For that time, Judaism was a constructive way to deal with my spiritual situation and unknown ancestral history. Joshua provided a rationale for my uniqueness and the common purpose and structure of observant Judaism eliminated some of that difficulty.
Additionally, traditional Jews have always taught the world about freedom and the Hebrew Scriptures have always inspired freedom of spirit.
Go down Moses
Way down in Egypt land
Go tell Pharoah
Let my people go!
I took a Hebrew name connected with the Exodus. I kept it and always will, though I often choose to go by my Catholic Saint name.
2000-present
Having returned to the US from Israel, I settled again in North Carolina. I re-connected with extended family and began genealogical research.
It appears -with strong evidence-that my Great-Great-Great Grandfather was enslaved on a certain plantation. Sometime between 1857 and 1860 he was murdered and thrown in a NC river for having a baby with the overseer's wife. The family story says he poisoned her and killed her, but I think "poisoned" was a euphemism. Furthermore, we found her and her family living out west in 1860. There is a 1 year old child listed with them in the 1860 census. This raises questions but is not enough to discredit the other evidence. The census is notoriously inexact. He could have been a newborn, or an adoptee to provide an explanation-orphan infants were not hard to come by in 1859- or even a light complexioned twin to M.
.
The child, my Great Great Grandmother, is listed in 1860 as the one year old white infant of an abolitionist Methodist family known to have adopted several children of indeterminate origin. Over the years, she grew darker in complexion. Her adoptive father died and she was farmed out to an abusive home. Her cousin married her to rescue her at age 14. She became a loved and respected midwife and root doctor in her community-which is probably why no one questioned her race- and gave birth to sixteen children. Several of the descendants appear to have had difficulty under Jim Crow. One couple I know did for sure.
I knew nothing of this growing up. It was not openly discussed. I do not know the name of my Great Great Great Grandfather though I know the plantation. Unless and until I can find out, I call him "Peedee."
I had seven experiences-dreams and one pre-sleep vision- between my 12th birthday and about four months before my 15th birthday. I had another which I put in the same category this past early Spring. Because they were so intense I understood them to have messages.
I will describe the first later.
Here is the second.
March 19, 1982
I was 12 years old, spending the weekend with my paternal grandparents in NC and I had the following dream. A little girl, perhaps four years old, with a full head of dark curly hair and wearing a frilly antebellum dress was clinbing up onto a giant antique chair with a rich burgundy cushion. I was worried that she would fall.The next scene she was standing on the ground holding a small seedling in a paper cup. A white wolf approached and devoured her.The small seed took root next to her remains. It grew rapidly into a tall tree. Then a loud voice like a trumpet (yes, really) said
"(Indeterminate pronoun) WILL COME BACK FORTY TIMES MORE POWERFUL!"
Interpretation of the dream
The little Antebellum girl was my great great grandmother. She was also the seed AND the cup, reflecting her probable biological parents "Peedee" the enslaved man (discussed later) and Annie Fry, the overseer's wife.
The majestic burgundy (blood-colored) chair represented the genteel white society and Christianity, which I saw--in 1800s and in 1982-- as the property of the master class. I saw both of these things as simultaneously oppressive and unapproachable (in both lives) and hence worried that M., raised as white, would fall. She did not fall. That was a message for me, who was observing the chair scene from below, to trust and take advantage of opportunities.
The white wolf was the abuses and threats that M.'s descendants suffered after the Civil War. It also represented the loss of the black half of her heritage. After she was eaten, the seed grew to be her many descendants, and her life persisted and flourished as her remains (her character and faith) nourshed them. I heard the voice from the top of the tree, high up, not down below. That foretold my return to Christianity and indicated that she had a role in it. I was both the original seed ("Peedee") and a later descendant.
The Hebrew letter mem is also the number forty, and is associated with transformation as it is seen to depict the womb. It also is associated with mayim, water, and mikveh, the ritual bath used for purification and conversion.
The dream pointed to my rebirth as a woman -and hence more powerful regarding certain emotional and linguistic aptitudes which I desperately needed in order to have any chance of surviving.
Most importantly, however, it pointed to a corrective in my relationship to God, which is what I believe reincarnation is for.
The third was really cool for a middle schooler. This light-ironically BLONDE being (this intrigued and surprised me at the time) told me that there were four levels of being, status quo people with word with a lot of s's that I did not know (perhaps assimilationist) Rebels, Doctors and Balancers. These were in order from spiritually weakest to strongest. It said I was NOT to be a Rebel, but that if I survived I would end up midway between Doctor and Balancer. I understood that the Rebel tears down harmful social structures, and the Doctor remediates the symptoms of social ills. I wasn't clear what a Balancer was, but thinking about it over the next few years kept me out of trouble. The being had a strong energy of peer-friendliness. Now I think the being could be ++++++ Annie Fry.
As I typed that, my computer beeped, the name "Annie Fry" jumped down a bunch of spaces and the little plusses appeared--so I left the little plusses. My GGG Grandmother Margaret Ann Mathis Fry was born in 1836 in Richmond county NC. We believe the Mathis family was originally Quaker. When she was born, they were Methodist Episcopal. This denomination was originally strongly Abolitionist and was second to the Quakers for Caucasian Abolitionist activity. In 1844 the Methodists split on slavery, due largely to the burgeoning plantation economy in the South. Margaret Ann married overseer Murdock Fry in December 1854. She was 18. Her first child was born in 1855, date unknown. My belief on my GG Grandmother M.'s parentage cannot be fully documented and proven, but I believe my hypothesis is correct, and evidence continues to mount.
The fourth turned out to be a premonition of sorts. I was bouncing around in this really springy kudzu down a hill by the side of a road and saying this poem: "highly do the winds now blow-the ultimate solution. Signs of change begin to show-the winds of revol-uuuuuuu-tion!"I floated around in the air on the "uuu" like I was connecting into an uplifting wind, in both senses of "uplifting." I found the area a couple of years ago-a boat access point for the Peedee River off of I-70. I even tried jumping around in the kudzu but I just sfffushed back into it. I recently read that sometimes field slaves would do leaping dances near the graves of Ancestors (if fortunate to have such resting places) during secret worship sessions. FYI blessed Peedee water makes kickin' Holy Water.
The fifth was scary. I found a lot of sick and dead people abandoned in a locked room behind a stage full of orange traffic barricades. there were signs saying "Danger-Keep out" but I ducked and ran under them. I then went back onto the stage and protested it by screaming at the audience. I wish they had been more explicit. It took me 20 years to find out who they were. But at least I had the mindset to look. That was really scary and disturbing for anyone, much less a youngish 13 year old. In studying history, the image that most seems to match that place is the holding pens for slaves awaiting sale.
In the sixth dream I published some kind of writing called "Glorious Reparation." I did not know what the word meant. I thought it was not a real word but a cross between "repair" and "preparation." until I looked it up. Really. looking at social reform, "repair" and "preparation" are two sides of the same coin. We must repair pur transgressions, whether as individuals, family members or societies, and in so doing, we are "preparing" for many things: future life and ultimately eternity, the responsibility that comes with freedom and self-determination (I think of our Middle East brothers and sisters here), for living in an ecologically sustainable manner, for handling various new technologies in a manner consistent with a Christian life ethic.
The seventh was between sleeping and waking and more intense than a dream. It was political and premonitory in nature. I will give it its own post.
The recent one about a year ago was a non-verbal image but it served me well for empathy and understanding how some people-like my students- process their emotions and experiences. It was like a brief firsthand experience of my GGG Grandfather's childhood. I was standing in lush clover and looking at a big white plantation house. It had columns. I was a child, but stronger than I ever was this time. I could sense I was stockier and stood more steadily. Suddenly I had a tremendous, inexpressible sense of lonliness, loss and anger. I believe it was a sudden sense that nothing was mine. Later, Granny from early childhood dreams gave me a soccer ball and I ran across the lawn kicking it, pleased to control it and own something. Then I was swinging, up into bright BRIGHT blue sky. A child who had been bullied could not get their swing going, so I stopped mine to help. "You would really stop your swing to help me?" they asked. I said, "Yes, Christina will always push me high again." Christina is the baby my parents lost. the name may have also been a reference to Christ.
Except for the barricade dream and the first part of the last one, these were really fun experiences. As I write I also see they had a process as well-the first four building my allegiance and identity, the fifth testing my strength and giving a task (solving the mystery of the barricade people-my ancestry) and the sixth, seventh and eighth connecting me to the world through education, political awareness and, finally, a personal resonance with history. As well as beginning again recently, many pieces about these experiences and others in my life seem to be fitting together to make a complete picture. There is a Nigerian tradition that these experiences are more common among the young and the old, so I wonder about them occurring at mid-life.
Here are some other things that occurred that I think are relevant.
My mother had a near-death experience when she gave birth to me. She floated down the long tunnel, feeling very peaceful. She intuituvely knew what was happening and prayed, "God, don't take me now. I have other children and I just had a new baby!" Thankfully, she came back. I was a week late, but the docs had told my parents I wasn't coming for a while. They went for pizza after the checkup. While they were eating, someone tried to leave without paying and the owner ran after him with a gun. Mom got scared and here I came. Interestingly this probably made me a Sagittarius instead of a Capricorn. Christianity frowns on horoscopes, but the actual origin predated the Greeks. Catholicism allows for recognizing truths in other traditions as long as they do not usurp the authority of Christian teachings.
I was born with congenital glaucoma and had 13 surgeries by age 7. Three times at ages 1 and 2, I was given the anasthetic ketamine hydrochloride. My reaction was extremely adverse. My medical records indicated that my parents said it took more than 24 hours for me to reorient after the first administration. I had multiple phobias and terrible nightmares. After a physician said that he didn't like ketamine because it gave the kids nightmares, my parents ordered the doctors to cease using it. There is at least one case of them using it again after the orders however, and some of the medical records are missing so I really don't know how often I had it.
I recall one incident when I believe I spoke of the past life. I was perhaps 3, playing hide-and-seek with my siblings. I was hiding in a closet with my 9 year old sister. There was the element of danger and suspense since someone was looking for me, but also a very strong sense of being safe and protected. And most of all, a sense of promise, an exciting and uplifting adventure--a momentous journey.
"This is like all the night of closet!" I chirped happily.
"What?" said my sister, "all the Nile closet?"
"Nile" seemed familiar somehow..."No," I corrected her,"All the night of closet."
She started laughing. "All night in a closet??? What are you talking about?"
"ALL THE NIGHT OF CLOSET!!!" I was getting irritated.
"I'm sorry," she said, "I don't know what in the world you are talking about."
A few years later, perhaps first or second grade, I asked my mom if everything that you could think of was happening somewhere in the world at any given time. I gave the example of if there was always a car wreck somewhere. She answered yes. My actual question was whether time was sequential with a set "past" and "future" or an all-inclusive static state of affairs. She inadvertently told me it was the latter.
(OOPS! I think I'm still sorting that one out.)
That was around the time I stole the Harriet Tubman book from the school library because I really wanted to read it but the teacher said I was too young.
1990-1992
Believing that Christianity was a tool for negative social control, I had left the Catholic Church of my birth for Judaism. I since returned to the Church, and that journey is a topic for another time.
Judaism is tolerant of reincarnation, especially the more Orthodox you go. I believed that I was the reincarnation of Joshua, a Polish secular Zionist member of the socialist labor bund who was in a concentration camp and died in the Holocaust. He was missing a little sister and had lived a secular lifestyle. Some images did not fit. There was a house that was too big and ornate for Europe. There was mud and red bricks. I kept seeing a river, but when I heard that the ashes of the Holocaust victims were placed in the Vistula, I thought that was it. Plus, my mother's father, whom we did not know, was Jewish. For that time, Judaism was a constructive way to deal with my spiritual situation and unknown ancestral history. Joshua provided a rationale for my uniqueness and the common purpose and structure of observant Judaism eliminated some of that difficulty.
Additionally, traditional Jews have always taught the world about freedom and the Hebrew Scriptures have always inspired freedom of spirit.
Go down Moses
Way down in Egypt land
Go tell Pharoah
Let my people go!
I took a Hebrew name connected with the Exodus. I kept it and always will, though I often choose to go by my Catholic Saint name.
2000-present
Having returned to the US from Israel, I settled again in North Carolina. I re-connected with extended family and began genealogical research.
It appears -with strong evidence-that my Great-Great-Great Grandfather was enslaved on a certain plantation. Sometime between 1857 and 1860 he was murdered and thrown in a NC river for having a baby with the overseer's wife. The family story says he poisoned her and killed her, but I think "poisoned" was a euphemism. Furthermore, we found her and her family living out west in 1860. There is a 1 year old child listed with them in the 1860 census. This raises questions but is not enough to discredit the other evidence. The census is notoriously inexact. He could have been a newborn, or an adoptee to provide an explanation-orphan infants were not hard to come by in 1859- or even a light complexioned twin to M.
.
The child, my Great Great Grandmother, is listed in 1860 as the one year old white infant of an abolitionist Methodist family known to have adopted several children of indeterminate origin. Over the years, she grew darker in complexion. Her adoptive father died and she was farmed out to an abusive home. Her cousin married her to rescue her at age 14. She became a loved and respected midwife and root doctor in her community-which is probably why no one questioned her race- and gave birth to sixteen children. Several of the descendants appear to have had difficulty under Jim Crow. One couple I know did for sure.
I knew nothing of this growing up. It was not openly discussed. I do not know the name of my Great Great Great Grandfather though I know the plantation. Unless and until I can find out, I call him "Peedee."
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