Stream work makes the dream work

Hey folks,

Sorry it has been a few classes since I've posted. So much happens in such a short time. I've been doing a lot of study/research on Hellenistic astrology (preparing for a webinar I am doing with a teacher of mine from Asheville). I came upon today a concept that I thought was really curious and applied to our work in some way. That term is "Eusebia" or piety. Applied to the stars, Greek thinkers, many of them philosophers and astrologers, were interested in the concept of cultivating a certain reverence or devotion to the movement of the cosmos. This, I sense, is very close to Jon's concept of sense streaming, but his is closer and more immanent, meaning really connecting to the closest phenomena swirling in the environment. It's like we're developing a sense of calculated wonder around the sensory world. Jon said in class that the senses don't judge - and they are a central way into exploring and experiencing, rather than "thinking" "about" something.

Related to this, he said "witness is character", and this really, really cements for me the kind of work that he is teaching us, and also the kind of work that I've been wanting to engage in terms of who I am in life. He said, "How much of this did you not know was there?" I think that when we identify so much with ourselves, as Jon put it, we seem hard and impenetrable -- and it affects the long-term ability of the rest of our senses (other than the visual) to really experience the world around us. Instead, we get a kind of diet-coke version because we miss so much without having access to the other senses. It is amazing and evident to me that these practices can return the lost or inaccessible senses.

In Chris' work, Jon emphasized "couple yourself with what is familiar. The sounds will still be there within it." He meant that when we start exploring the space of the dreamscape, the visual acts like a navigational guide, just to simply move through -- but don't allow the sounds or other sensed phenomena drop out or cease because you are moving through it. In my case, at some point he asked me what I hear after navigating the space, and it took a minute for me to be able to hear the sound of someone pounding metal in the distance, which I heard at the beginning of the exercise.

Two other notes: Jon said "people who stream find their own place; and this may not look like the dream anymore." In other words, you're using your senses to initially get into the dreamscape, but that once you are taking the POV of the witness, their sensory awareness might alter the dream terrain in a large way, and we have to be willing to let go of our attachments (especially the original subject of the dream which is usually ourselves) in order to let the sensory experience pervade that witness' body; otherwise we're fighting our senses with theirs. This is really evident for me in working with the exercise not only in class but outside of class. I find that sounds, especially, are harder to manifest when doing the dream work if there are prominent external sounds that are mixing with the streaming. Though, correct me if I'm wrong, doing the streaming work is specifically to soften the cacophony of the sensory world, so that we can better allow the streamed sensory information to engage the sensory information in the dream exercise. The other note, is that Jon said we are "taking ownership of the dream", and by this I sense he is saying that we're deepening the dream beyond two-dimensionality, cut and dry, where it would just be an image that you see an interpret as a very specific message. Instead, as he said in the beginning of class, senses, rather than judging, are there to soften the otherwise hardened person. Dreams help us resist being two-dimensional people in our waking life. In streaming, we're bringing the dream and waking life closer together, and taking ownership of our character, so much so that we can begin to understand and show interest in the lives and experiences of a witness character. Jon called this the "residue of character", and he said that this can be really easily explored in the fact that objects give a clear vision of a person.

Jeff asked if there was a point within streaming work where you could be so adept at calling in the senses that you could just ask for something and it would appear. Jon said that the minute you ask for it, it falls apart in a house of cards. This made sense. You might be able to wish for the love of your life in waking life, but often they come in a completely different form with a completely different agency than you'd hoped.

The exercise:

We repeated the steps from our last class on dreamwork, as we'd taken a class to review some of the basic steps and experiences of sense streaming. I was hoping I wouldn't go first, but it was good for me to just get into it, and practice a cold prompt. I'd done some of the dream streaming with this particular dream at least twice outside of class, and it has been powerful but somewhat overwhelming.

Steps
1) breathing exercise, obtain a panoramic view of the space (general, non-specific), "I wonder what I see" and draw from left to right with sound.
2) Anchor into the sensory awareness of the space; notify various sensory experiences beyond the visual, allow this to really snap the photograph of this witness figure into the space. Give time to establish as many of these sensory anchors as possible. If visual comes up, allow it to diminish and focus on the individual sensory phenomenon as its own.
2) Tap right side, "Project into the image" and assume the most powerful POV for that witness to really explore the space, the objects, the atmosphere.
3) In the distance ahead, further the better, establish an anchor. Take time to really solidify anchor, point to it, and then slowly move toward the anchor. While moving through the space, notice to the left and right, above and below, how the vantages are changing, how the environment changes as the witness (you) move through it. Arrive at anchor, and sketch closely, a few inches away, the anchor. Allow sketch to meld into the sensory -- start feeling, smelling, hearing the anchor, as well as the environment around it.
4) Turn slowly to the left of you, and observe. Meanwhile, stay connected to the sensory phenomena that you've established thus far. Turn again to the left so that can get a view of the area where you originated from the other side. Establish anchor. Are there any symbols? (Don't intellectualize them, just mark them as prominent and familiar among other anchors)
5) Move slowly toward, noticing what changes in perspective reveal to you. Are there things that are there that you didn't see before?
6) Return to original spot, take in the space again, reconnect with sensory phenomena.
7) Move to symbol. Repeat process that you had with anchor. Spend time tasting, touching, smelling, picking up, perhaps hearing the object. Wipe away.
Harvest.

Experience:

I'd done the exercise in slightly altered iterations on my own, but Jon threw in a few new elements that helped deepen it. In the beginning of my experience, I don't think he had me recount the dream. As soon as I was recounting, he had me connect with my senses, which helped move away from the story of it, into the experience of it. I felt most prominently the pounding of my heart, very clammy and warm hands, warmth filling my chest. I sensed a strong cool air moving over my left shoulder and the top of my spine, causing the rest of my spine to chill and activate. I heard first the sound of metal clanging in the distance behind me and to my left, where there was an open rounded arch that led to the outdoors and orange/red dirt landscape. The air was dry, and sound didn't really echo; it was more muted whenever it occurred. Overall there was little sound in the space, and it felt very remote. I heard the sound of a man humming a sweet and gently tune to my left, but directly out of view. I tried to connect to the sound of the melody, but it was a challenge; the sound drifted away easily. After about ten seconds and Jon's prompt I heard the sounds of what appeared to be a dog munching through something, such that I could hear it's tongue lapping against what it was eating, as well as the panting echoing in the enclosed space ahead, beyond view. (My first anchor was this dog, and I did some sketching on his teeth, the fluid and blood and the yellowing on the teeth, the blood caking his fir and below his eyes, as well as his eyes).

I found keeping these sensory experiences difficult after moving around the space; though I know it's a practice and gets better over time.

I moved over to my symbol, which was a birthday cake with a grid of candles. I spent a good few seconds really trying to sniff the cake and to taste it's taste. I noticed that rather than sweetness I smelled some kind of clean smell -- it's hard to describe. I kept smelling and I felt on the edges of some other association, but the exercise was moving quickly. I did eventually smell smoke, and I suddenly realized after glancing at the candles that they had been blown out, and the smoke was lingering in the space. This was about the time that Jon ended the exercise. Jon said that he'd been unable to hear the majority of the exercise, which made it difficult to assess what was happening for me. This was frustrating as I felt very connected to the scene, and to a degree the sensory phenomena. I'm not sure what happened, as my computer is brand new and I was only a few feet from it. I'll figure something else out if need be.

Overall, despite technical difficulties, I got a lot out of this exercise. It was a little chaotic, and constantly moving in the POV, but I think this is what happens at the beginning of doing that kind of work - it can be a little disorienting, but I sense this is the point in some way. One last thing I will say is that throughout the exercise, I felt a tremendous sense of ominousness, I felt disturbed. The dream had very intense imagery, and I could feel it pervading my work around the senses. This effected my voice a little bit, as the witness was timid, and in a low-grade state of fear. I tried to allow the other sensory experiences anchor me into the less-intense sense of the space. Overall, the dream and the exercise hold a strong charge in my body, and writing about it now, I feel a sense of unease, and can readily produce the feeling of cold chilling the back of my neck and spine.

I'm going to try working on other dreams now. See y'all soon.

Josh

What a great post! Damn! So sorry about not letting you finish last week. I could not hear anything.