The Snort and The Bayou 8 Dec 09

The Snort – 8 Dec 09 Seattle Matrix
Dr. Bartlett told a story yesterday in the seminar about how he received much of the essence of a book by simply putting it under his pillow. So just for grins, I placed Dr. Bartlett’s new book under my pillow last night. But what happened when I first woke this morning was not what I really signed up for, but it did make a point and it made me laugh like hell. I woke up with a big snort, A huge snort, just like Dr. Bartlett seems to do inadvertently. He says it’s his deceased dog who also used to snort.

So, when I stopped laughing, I started to think about this as a really neat lesson and one that Dr. Bartlett reiterated over and over again. “Just wait for something to show up. Get out of your left brain long enough for something unexpected to show up.”


The Bayou – 8 Dec 09
I am in a place I have never been. Stella, my pup, is with me. I am standing on some sort of wooden platform. Seems to be a dock, because there’s water below. At first it looks a little muddy, but then I realize that it’s just shallow and very, very clear water. Stalla has already found a fish and she’s chasing the fish back and forth in the water. The fish doesn’t seem to mind and this makes Stella extremely happy.

Then I am in boat, a boat similar to what we use in Mexico, a panga. My husband, David, is standing on a dock and it’s open water, like the ocean. Trouble is, the boat that I; am in doesn’t have a working motor. My husband hopes that I will simply drift into the dock. The boat is drifting and it’s drifting sideways. But I have a better idea. Without really thinking, I just suddenly start making the boat “GO.” It’s completely under my control. It’s as if I am powering the boat myself. And I reach the dock swiftly.

Now I am entering area that I am familiar with, somewhat. I have been here at least once or twice before. I am climbing a homemade ladder. Each rung and the sides of the ladder have been painted different colors. The paint is fading and chipping, so I surmise that it was painted a long, long time ago.
There is typically an opening into a room at the top of the ladder, but the opening seems to be concealed or blocked. I can see who owns this house through the rungs of the ladder as I reach the top. I know her and recognize her. I ask her, “Why have you blocked the way inside?” She says, “It’s not blocked, it’s just different and a little hidden.” Finally I see what she’s talking about and I gain entrance.