The purpose of my life
Had a dream the other night in which I was told the purpose for my existence. Man, that was amazing and wonderful. I woke up in the dream sobbing with relief and joy to finally know the answer to my question, what is the reason for me to be here?
Of course, like everyone else, I’ve had a lot of input in that direction over the years:
According to my father, I was born to please him. According to my mother, I was born to love her. According to society, I was born to fit in. According to my employers I was born to work harder and not screw up so much. According to the U.S. Navy, I was born to polish brass, swing a swab, and hoist signal flags. According to my ex-wife, I was born to accommodate her. According to my cults, I was born to give them money. According to the television, I was born to buy stuff.
Now I’m sure there is a kernal of truth in all they say, but it never really struck me as the real deal. I hadn’t the least idea myself, so have been dependent on the wisdom of strangers until now. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’ve made a lot of guesses over the years. Always felt like a bit of a communicator and an artistic sort, but never had the chops to make it work. Or the guts.
To set the scene:
This dream was set in a multidimensional quasifabularium, that is, a hotel. Or a funhouse. Or a funhouse that was also a hotel of multiple meanings, full of rooms that opened to infinity. A house of many mansions.
One of the rooms was formed into red rocky outcrops so that it was like passing through a small dark narrow canyon, and as I moved through it little black shapes began to move up behind me, coming up from the shadows of darkness, shapes of pure darkness themselves, like bipedal ratlike rats or little demons. Very scary, the embodiment of all my fears. And soon they came in such huge numbers that they turned the floor into a writhing mass of them and I was carried along in their deadly black midst.
At first I was fearful, but soon realized I needed to surrender to them, let them do with me whatever they wanted, to let go and let be. As soon as I did that, they de-individualized.
I fell into them and all became black. And I moved instantly from there into a place of pure bliss, surrounded by distant mighty lights like galaxies in the deep harmonious blackness. I was floating in a vast universe of harmony and peace, a tiny flick of joy in a vast rotating emanation of cosmic perfection.
It was so easy, so natural, and such an astonishing and gratifying revelation – to give in to one’s deepest fears and find they lead directly to pure heaven. Fear = bliss. Who knew? All this time I’ve been running like an insane dog from exactly what I needed.
And then it came to me, whether as a voice or as pure knowing I don’t recall, but I do recall the message: My life’s purpose is to support the feminine process.
What does that mean?
To me, who has long studied Jungian thought, psychological alchemy, dreamwork, and the artistic realm (by study I mean dabble in), it was instantly obvious and feeling-true. I am here to be a conciliator of the weak with the strong, of the sissy with the bully, of the intellect with the feeling realm, and to do that not only in society and in others, but mainly in myself. My anima is the goddess in me, and I need to let her out, to set her free, to be the rock on which she stands tall, flinging love like flowers from her arms.
You go girl!
LWIII





of the place as well as to invite people to be all they can become.







rop caps are delightful, and so is collaboration. Tonight’s post is all about collaborative work on the internet, or what might be called omnilaboration, since ‘co’ is two, and the internet is a giant wad of artistic and creative types.