Welcome & Introductions

Thanks for joining us. We hope to have a fun, intimate group where we can all share resources, stories, poetry, art, and other renewing experiences. Please write a sentence (or a few) about what brings you to this course, what you do in life, or what you hope to experience here.

To do this, simply hit "Reply" to this post and either paste or type what you want in the box. Then hit "Add" (or "Save" below the box.

We also invite you to post poetry, quotes, or links to articles, art, videos, etc. that have heart and meaning for you. To start a new post, simply click "Add a Discussion", type or paste what you want, then scroll down and click the "Add" button at bottom. 

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  • Hi, I am Maja. I am coming from Belgrade, Serbia, Europe. So there is a huge time difference - the webinar is at my 2 am, so the last webinar I spent shyly and silently in my bed. It was moving to listen to poems and stories. The day after the event I went to the mountain where I did not have internet access so it was interesting after discussions to wake up and light the fire instead of checking the phone and emails. 

    During the webinar I was reminded of the artist, performer who said that "art cease to exist at the moment we try to understand it". I guess that is one of the reason that I have chosen Lorca's Somnabule ballad.. The poem does not allow to be penetrated with an interpretation. It escapes rational explanation and linear narration. This is the one part of the poem: 

    —Friend, I want to change

    my horse for your house,

    my saddle for your mirror,

    my knife for your blanket,

    Friend, I come bleeding,

    from the passes of Cabra.

    —If I could, young man,

    this pact would be sealed.

    But I am no more I,

    nor is my house now my house.

    —Friend, I want to die

    decently in my bed,

    Of iron, if it be possible,

    with sheets of fine holland.

    Do you not see the wound I have

    from my breast to my throat?

    —Your white shirt bears

    three hundred dark roses.

    Your pungent blood oozes

    around your sash.

    But I am no more I,

    nor is my house now my house.

    —Let me climb at least

    up to the high balustrade:

    let me come! Let me come!

    up to the green balustrades.

    Balustrades of the moon

    where the water resounds.

    The verse that hunts me But I am no more I, nor is my house now my house. Pero yo ya no soy you, ni mi casa es ya mi casa... I could repeat that... feeling of losing I. Being and staying in loss of myself is painful and liberating. I feel comfort at train stations, airports, walking - always arriving.

    A sense of aw in the mundane:

    touching orange at the market

    sitting in the circle talking with students

    Another poem that I wanted to share with you

    What We Want

    by Linda Pastan

    What we want

    is never simple.

    We move among the things

    we thought we wanted:

    a face, a room, an open book

    and these things bear our names—

    now they want us.

    But what we want appears

    in dreams, wearing disguises.

    We fall past,

    holding out our arms

    and in the morning

    our arms ache.

    We don't remember the dream,

    but the dream remembers us.

    It is there all day

    as an animal is there

    under the table,

    as the stars are there

    even in full sun.



     I work at the Department for pedagogy, Univesrity of Belgrade, finding a way to teach, to do research poetically. Sometimes working in Serbia is rough.. makes me become rough. I did Psyche and Soma at Sesame. I engaged in the course for cultivating poetic and remembering. 

    I will try to be there today, perhaps I will fall asleep. Thank you all for your wonderful sharing.


    • Your whole post is so lovely and heart wrenching: brought tears to my eyes. So beautiful!

      I spent time in Kosovo and Bosnia-Herzegovina in the late 1990's. The equisite country-Side landscapes of that part of the world, and the visions of the remnants of terrible wars, are with me.
    • Thank you Amy. yes, beauty and destruction all together. According to your destinations (Bosnia and Kosovo) sounds like you did work there. 

      it was heart warming to receive your reply

  • in honor of David Bowie

    "Being imbued with a vividly active imagination, still, I have brilliantly Technicolor dreams. They’re very, very strong. The ‘what if?’ approach to life has always been such a part of my personal mythology, and it’s always been easy for me to fantasise a parallel existence with whatever’s going on. I suspect that dreams are an integral part of existence, with far more use for us than we’ve made of them, really. I’m quite Jungian about that. The dream state is a strong, active, potent force in our lives.

    The fine line between the dream state and reality is at times, for me, quite grey. Combining the two, the place where the two worlds come together, has been important in some of the things I’ve written, yes." - David Bowie

    Photograph by Helmut Newton, Remixer unknown.
    • Here is my painting of the crows:


    • I can hear them talking!
  • Hello

    I'm Roberta and I live in Kansas City, Missouri.  I'm a student of the Diamond Approach via the Ridhwan School for which Depth Psychology is integral.  I'm not a psychotherapist or poet, but one who is interested in richness and depth of experience, and often that is facilitated by poetry, prose, and art.  

    “You see, I want a lot.
    Maybe I want it all:
    the darkness of each endless fall,
    the shimmering light of each ascent.
    So many are alive who don't seem to care.
    Casual, easy, they move in the world
    as though untouched.
    But you take pleasure in the faces
    of those who know they thirst.
    You cherish those
    who grip you for survival.
    You are not dead yet, it's not too late
    to open your depths by plunging into them
    and drink in the life
    that reveals itself quietly there.”

    ― Rainer Maria Rilke / The Book of the Hours

    (translated by Robert Bly)


    • Love this poem and the photo!
  • Hi, By way of introduction, my name is Laura Smith and I live in Vermont. I work with dreams both my own and with clients. I was drawn to the aspects of dreaming mentioned in the course description. I have been in a creative process with my dreams since 2011 when I first painted an image from a dream. This opened the door to a creative exploration through painting and writing. I love the idea of poetic sensibility and the interchangeability of dream/poem. Here in VT I have a farm with my partner of 18 years. We raise livestock on our 78 acre plot. There are many opportunities to "get lost" and even still, I forget, the compulsion of mind and habit being so strong. I seek and find places to bring support to my getting lost. This class is that for me. Thanks and it's great to be part of the group. Here is a painting that I did in response to a poem by Beatriz Fernandez through The Light Ekphrastic, another opportunity I took last August to get lost. It's called Crows.


  • Thanks for the beautiful and inspiring first session! I was only able to attend the live session for a few minutes, as I was driving to my Hummingbird Dream Clan group, where we ended up tending both a dream and a poem of one of the participants. I did just watch the entire recording just now, at midnight, and was so pleasantly surprised it did not seem to take anything away from the feeling of this gathering being warm, moving and alive!

    I am going to post the poem we tended as you all were meeting, and an image from our closing ritual, as I am coming to trust more and more how we are all "wired in" together.

    Dana, our host for this month's dream group, had told us at the beginning she had an idea for a special closing, when we got that far, but we didn't know what that would be. Synchronistically, she manifested the "Blue Flame" which was an image that arose from the dreamer's poem (as the attached photo shows.) the Blue Flame is such an invaluable image -- it connected the dreamer, and us all, with the numinous, to borrow Bonnie's word: as we asked her to feel into the flame in her body, she dropped from her head into her deepest self; the air around us seemed to change: it was almost like we could hear a crackling: we were electrified. Blue Flame freed her from what she had been describing as "the cage that society has put us in" one that intellectually, she could find no way out of.

    In a separate post I'll share a poem I've written... One also far outside the cage.

    Thank you! So look forward to hearing from others!
    Amy Beth Katz

    Shadow Work by Bridget Carlson

    I dug the nail out
    With jagged fingernails
    Soiled with shadow blood
    Dug so far, so deep
    Between the layers of
    Endless spasms
    Echoing the beat of my breath
    Blue fire crackling, splintering
    The floorboards above
    The nailhead prying loose
    Volcanic black blood seething through
    Wresting strength from my pulsing heat
    Murmured growls shrieking beneath
    So far below, at the root, the source
    The nail point wedged furiously
    In the eardrum of the past
    Reverberating a spiral cacophony
    Round and round the cavity
    Of the human shadow world
    Swelling to a resonant howl
    That will be HEARD
    I dug the nail out
    Put my ear to the gaping hole
    And listened


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