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A 2002 Dream of Coronas and Apocalyptic Night Rainbows

If I say, surely the darkness shall cover me,
even the night shall be light about me…
The darkness and the light
are both alike to thee.       – Howard Thurman

In 2002 I had a dream. I wrote about it in “The Lucky Dark” chapter in my book, Chasing the Dance of Life.

I don’t think dreams are only about the dreamer. I believe that human consciousness is communal. Modern people carry individual freedom to such an extreme that we forget how much we are of one piece. I believe that we dream for each other as well as ourselves. In the Bible, Jacob won a seat in the court of a foreign King for his ability to prophetically dream and translate their meaning to the powers that be. The only problem is that, like art, dreams are subjective. We have to decide whether to swallow dreams whole or take them with a grain of salt.

In the summer of 2002, I dreamt a world dream.


Rainbow Spheres


Suited up against the dark nights,
I looked up.
A rainbow stitched the night sky.
A night rainbow? I checked my lense,
elbowed my neighbor, “Did you see that?”

Suddenly the rainbow stitch
duplicated into multicolored
spherical, fractals of light,
each enwrapping an inner light
born from infinite, unlit sources.

Rainbow eggs torrentially divided,
multiplied, hailed down.
I was Unprepared
wearing high terrain boots,
the kind used for hard work
and cross country mountain climbing.

As I clod toward the village square
so many shoes lay abandoned by the road.
I took off my boots and ran light-footed
toward the center of the city,
an aurora borealis flood
consuming and swallowing the world.


When I woke, I wondered, “Is this how it will happen? A future coming at us over which we have no control? Apocalyptic death? Or? Apocalyptic hope.”

Something enormously “other” is at the center of every miracle. Strike us dead or let us dance, I don’t know how well we’ll do, but I know bodies will be altered and offered up every time. A rainbow world is coming. And it may not depend on us.

Since that dream, I’ve thought that something outside human consciousness may be needed to create the shift we need.  A trillion inner suns illuminating our darkness? Coronas?

Are we collectively open to help from beyond? Strange question. Strange dream. My life may or may not be saved. This is not a time for individuals. I bow to the storm.

If I think of the world as a body, it can’t be reduced to a problem or disease. Life is a web of health. The more health we grant ourselves the more we create a healthy world body. Violent methods put off healing and health. Things like war are surgical. Who wants surgery? Recovery is hard.

What leads to peace and healing? Creative Contributions, Play and Rest.  That’s CPR of body wisdom.

Play is the genius of consciousness. Play builds up bodies, fosters health and transforms trauma.  The sooner we play, dance, share our story, song, and spirit, the quicker we stabilize and open up our bodyspirits to relief, curiosity, love, energy, power, and crazy encounters.

If you’d like to read the introduction to  Chasing the Dance of Life link here.  I wrote it to companion the mystics, poets, visionaries, and dancers who feel weird. In it, I offer my quest to understand why something as expansive, visionary, heart-opening and socially healing as the Dance of Life could be so hard to claim. Fortunately, there are voices that say, “Fear not.” On discouraging days I cling to incantations like poet Muriel Rukeyser’s,

Let poems and bodies love and be given to air,
Earth having us real in her seasons, our fire and savor;
And reader, love well, imagine forward, for
All of the testaments are in your favor.


Dance when you are broken open. Dance if you’ve torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance and you’re perfectly free.  Rumi


Here’s to rainbows in your night sky or at your roots.









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