The Dark Side of Imagination

Last night I had a dream that I was driving down the road and a huge wave of water came past and swept Ezra away. I could see him getting further and further away, and I kept calling his name, "Ezra! Ezra!" Finally he reached toward me and I pulled him out of the water. I woke up with my heart pounding with mother love and fear. I longed to go and hold him, but alas he was at Grandma and Grandpa's house. All day I've been flashing the scene of his beautiful face, an odd shade of green from the water, floating away from me. I could not wait for my sweet Ezra to come home, so I could see him and hold him and know he really was here with me.

A few nights ago, Andy and I watched "Fast Food Nation." Andy doesn't get to see all the dramatic movies he'd like because I really cannot handle the visualization of violence and terror. Halfway through this movie, he began to apologize (sweet man that he is) and I've been flashing a few scenes from that movie as well. I've been so disturbed by the message of that movie. I've been near tears all day.

Being a highly creative person means that I cannot handle all the world has to offer. It all so easily gets to my soul, and the pain of this world quickly overwhelms me. I refuse to stick my head in the sand, but I do have to be careful with what I put in my head -- especially visual things. I still see images from the "Children of the Corn" which I saw 25 years ago and "Romero" which I saw 15 years ago. The visual impact makes it so real for me, and I become paralyzed with despair.

And that's just movies. I have visions when I'm going to sleep that are so vivid -- awful faces and surfaces. I used to worry about that space between awake and asleep, especially in college. I now know I'm safe and see them through knowing they are my shadow side working things out. And I pay close attention to the dreams that wake me up. I've had prophetic dreams and know that is a gift, but the initial terror that comes with them is still a shock. And I of course love to interpret my dreams because it takes some of the intensity away from the images and leads me to new and often better places on my spiritual journey.

I don't want to wish this dark side away either. It's important to embrace all that I am -- both the light and the dark. Being raised Christian means I've been taught to always look for the light , to be afraid of the dark (and the figure of the devil), and I took those lessons in well. I do look for the light as best as I can and I am still afraid of the dark. But I am ever so slowly learning that the dark has much to teach as well, and to deny it just makes it scarier. Matthew Fox in his book, "Original Blessing" talks about the via negativa, the way of the dark. This is the way of the womb, of mystery, of trusting what I cannot see. In some ways I know this way well because this is the way of creating. When I'm in the midst of creating, there is a time of gestating an idea. I let it sit in my unconscious and trust that when it is ready, it will come forward and make itself known. And when I trust this process, it almost always makes for a good and deep piece of art.

I've also been to a lot of funerals lately and I know some of my "bad" dreams have been working out this recent confrontation of death. Anna, my very intuitive daughter, has also been having bad dreams, and I'm guessing she's doing the same thing. Death is the ultimate darkness, the ultimate mystery. I don't know that there is a heaven. I don't know if there is a hell. I don't know if it's all a big nothingness, or a great communion with the cosmos. I do know I'm not really living for the next life, I'm living this life to the fullest and letting the next mystery take care of itself. But when my mind leaps to the end of this life, I'd like to think that working through the dark side of my imagination now will make that transition a little easier.

Well I'm off to bed -- to sleep in the dark, waiting for the light.