The Missionaries

I've recognized some of my character flaws and that one in particular has caused me so many troubles. It's one thing to disregard a friend's foibles and focus on his or her good qualities, but quite another to fail to recognize when someone isn't your friend at all. I can recognize that this is a major character flaw, but I can't seem to overcome it. Why not!?

***

Before I made aliyah, I intended to live in the north, however, I wasn't eligible to stay at any absorption center. I was disappointed and worried. How would I meet people, make connections, and find community, or even a place to live without a starting point, a temporary home base?

I decided to stay at a hostel in Jerusalem because, in the past, I'd met many people there and because I am somewhat familiar with the area.

My first night in Jerusalem, I sat in the hostel's new lounge to check my email. A bearded, American man was explaining to a missionary that it wasn't enough to start attending a synagogue and to try to convert people, that he should hide his intentions at first and make friends because "they" don't like missionaries and wouldn't have anything to do with him if they knew his intentions. I was disgusted and ignored them both.

The next morning, I was horrified to discover that the hostel has become a place for missionaries, messianics, and other non-mainstream Christians in numbers too large to ignore. I thought I had left messianics behind in Arizona! Instead, every time I entered the kitchen or lounge, I was surrounded by people having bizarre and disturbing conversations.

* * *

The following day, I met a couple who had just made aliyah with their family. They'd been surprised to get their aliyah approval so quickly. In fact, their approval had arrived just as they were leaving for a trip to Israel that they'd already planned. They’d been told their approval would take much longer. We discussed Nefesh b'Nefesh. Like me, their aliyah application had vanished in the bowels of the Jewish Agency, but they had been assigned an aliyah advisor and he had tracked it down inside the Jewish Agency.

The couple and their children had stayed at the hostel many times before, for long periods of time. They had purchased dishes and kitchenware that they store there whenever they return to the States. So they were settled into the hostel as if it were home. The husband was a heavily bearded police officer and the wife, who dressed modestly in long skirts and turbans, had home schooled their many children. They knew a lot of things I didn’t about making aliyah. Particularly important: they knew an employee of the municipality of Jerusalem who helps new immigrants get oriented and settled.

In contrast to the generally disturbing environment in the hostel, it felt good to meet companions in this precarious situation of being a new immigrant to Israel. I was no longer sorry that I hadn’t been admitted to an absorption center for new immigrants. Things were going to work out well, I was sure.

* * *

During that first meeting, within an hour, I think, I began to wonder about the family. The husband gave me a cold stare rather than a sympathetic look when I said that my last boss in Arizona had been a messianic. When I asked, the wife described her conversion to Judaism in ways that had nothing to do with Judaism, but only her private reading of the bible over several decades. I wondered if the husband were the same bearded man I’d heard advising the Christian missionary to hide his intentions, but I couldn't be sure, since I'd made a point of turning my back on that conversation.

The family had converted to Judaism recently and the Jewish Agency had done a background check on them. The mother told me that the Jewish Agency had found that they owned a website about Jesus. They had explained to the representative that they hadn't posted to it for a long time.

The family was extremely friendly with all the various Christians staying at the hostel and seemed to be close to a few. Perhaps, I hoped, they simply maintained ties of sympathy with their former religion. I was deluding myself because I wanted to have fellow travelers, companions on the journey, a support system. And I was eager to participate in Shabbos dinners they helped organize at the hostel. Besides, who, I asked myself, would pretend to convert to Judaism?

* * *

Sunset that first Shabbos was such a joy! It was wonderful to once again hear the siren that announces the approach of Shabbat in Jerusalem. I rushed outside and stood in the sun for several moments, my arms outstretched before I lit my candles.

At a (very) late Shabbos dinner, about twenty people sat at tables we’d set up on the roof. Sitting down at the table, I thought the moment was perfect. The wife offered to be a mom to me (even though she’s not much older than I am) and volunteered her son to be my little brother. How warm and lucky I felt. (I felt a little less lucky over the next couple of weeks when the husband took the kids on several tours of Jerusalem and didn't invite me to join them.)

Most of the guests at that Shabbos dinner were Christian tourists, which I didn't mind. However, with the wife’s encouragement, some very strange ideas were voiced. One Christian claimed he was an honorary member of the tribe of Judah because he believed in Jesus. (Cultural appropriation and gross idiocy in one statement!) Ingrained courtesy made me hold my tongue, but that kind of delusion is dangerous and, well… delusional. I rolled my eyeballs, but mom and my little brother didn't seem to understand.

Moments later, I wished that I had spoken up, because the wife began encouraging other delusions. For example, she told one Christian man that he is also required to wear tzitzit! (You notice that Christians never appropriate tefillin — a little too weird, even if it is in the bible, right?)

The family has an extraordinarily large network of Christian friends and friends of friends who visited them at the hostel. I asked myself if there was any reason why they shouldn't. Years ago, I maintained my ties with long-time friends at my Reform synagogue after I joined a Conservative synagogue. Of course, Reform Jews are still Jewish; Christians absolutely are not.

* * *

I was very uncomfortable with the environment I was living in. I contacted NBN to ask about going north. A man wrote back immediately to say that someone would get in touch with me. Nothing happened, but a little later, I met the Jerusalem olim advisor and he helped me open a bank account, locate an ulpan, find some apartments online, and set appointments to view them, so I didn't pursue the idea of going north.

My therapist in Portland advised me to remain at the hostel. The plan had been to stay in a place where I'd meet people. He didn't want me to be alone and neither did I.

At the hostel, I've encountered only two other Jewish guests and talked with a couple of nice Christians who didn't seem to have a "Jewish agenda." Mostly, the people there were immersed in their own brand of Christianity. One man, a particular friend of the family, had just come from lecturing Africa where large advertisements proclaimed he was a "prophet to Africa." (Just what Africa needs, I thought, more white prophets.)

I went to one more Shabbos dinner at the hostel, where fifty of us were packed at tables squeezed into the indoor lounge. The cook asked for a volunteer to chant kiddush, but studiously ignored the only hand that was raised. (Mine.) Then I had to listen to lots of Christian dialogue. That was the last hostel Shabbos dinner that I attended. I didn’t want to gather any more evidence that my new “family” were Christians masquerading as Jews. And I didn't know which would be worse: not speaking up  or commenting vehemently on the stupidity I heard at those meals and starting an argument.

Why did I keep trying to dismiss my knowledge that they are missionaries who used deceit to make aliyah? There are probably a number of reasons. The most positive: it’s not right to judge people or make assumptions about them until you really know them. The least positive (and more likely) reason: I have no spine: I want friends, I want to belong, I want community so much, that I will associate with people who don’t share my values and who don't respect mine. I've been too tolerant and too trusting of people and have often put myself in the hands of people who don’t care about me. When I got too close to someone, my father always told me, "they aren't your friends," but I always refused to believe him.

I have improved a little; now I at least recognize that these people probably aren't my friends and that I probably can't depend on them for anything. However, I'm not responding to that knowledge appropriately. What's wrong with me?

Since Reform Judaism isn't an option here, I had intended to associate with secular Israelis, but exposure to this family's lack of respect for the religion I value, and the depressing need to avoid Shabbos dinner each week, made me reach out for a little more observance. I registered on a Shabbat website, hoping to get Shabbos dinner invitations, and Ryan Bellerose put me in touch with a family in Hevron. (They had a full house that Shabbos and then started taking in people affected by the forest fires... but maybe I'll get to go sometime soon.)

I didn't hang out with the family much, but once in a while, I'd find myself drawn to their room, wanting to talk with the girls. I was torn between wanting companionship and mistrust of their motives for being in Israel. (The first was winning, obviously.)

* * *

Their 21-year-old daughter had arrived about a week after I did and she is an amazing person. She'll soon join the IDF. She's really smart. Perhaps after being here a while, she'll have a better understanding of Jews and Judaism and abandon whatever plans her family has.

Their 17-year-old son and I were in the same ulpan. After class each day, we studied in the hostel’s lounge, after picking up inexpensive falafel for our lunch. We’d test each other on things we had learned that day and then check each other’s homework.

A study partner is a great/essential thing, no matter the subject, and I really liked his company. He's a sweet kid. Actually, I often forgot that he's a kid. I don't learn nearly as well without him. I used to buy myself a beer and him a candy bar after we'd finished our homework, unaware that his mother had put him on a diet. He is a fan of the new Dr. Who tv show and since I have a laptop he wanted to watch the show on Netflix. Some episodes of the show were pretty poor, but I seldom said no when he asked to watch a second episode. I liked that it made “my little brother” happy. I was very fond of him and his enthusiasm for Hebrew. He was a great favorite of the Hebrew teachers at ulpan, too. He wasn't planning to make aliyah, so he seemed a less dangerous companion than the other members of his family.

It was impossible to ignore the husband’s absolute disdain for Judaism. He didn’t even try to hide it. I avoided him as much as I could, but one erev Shabbat, I expected that I'd have to spend time with him. The wife had had a disagreement with the person who prepared the Shabbos dinners and decided to host her own Shabbat dinner in their large room. There was no polite way to decline her invitation and, besides, I wanted Shabbos and still held some hope that they were fellow travelers.

The husband was not there that evening; he had returned to the States to work. I sighed with relief and relaxed. Everything was almost ready, so none of the usual last-minute Shabbos prep whirled around me. I'd brought challah and drinks. Conversation was a bit slow to warm up and I was concerned that talk might turn to incriminating matters that had no wish to confront them on, so I suggested we read the parasha.

They asked me chant Kiddush, which I really like to do even though I know I can’t carry a tune. The meal was wonderful. Their large room is stocked with dishes and crock pots and every imaginable cooking implement, so nothing was lacking. I had brought challah and drinks and my little brother/study partner had made a wonderful appetizer of eggplant, pomegranate, and tahini. It was a nice meal and conversation warmed up, without, thankfully, turning to Jesus. However, they did discuss that patrilineal descent was more valid matrilineal because the bible says so; I let that go without comment.

Some time later, the son invited me to look at some apartments with the family one evening. The mother wanted me to live with them, but I made a point of telling their agent that I was getting a separate, one bedroom apartment. On the way back, the mother described her dream of having big Shabbos dinners for lots of Christians, to introduce them to “their” heritage. What a bizarre aspiration for a Jew, especially a new Jew, who should want to learn about her new religion! It’s even a bizarre aspiration for a Christian missionary. At least her focus does not seem to be on converting Jews, at least not directly, but Christian interest in / obsession with Jews and Judaism usually leads to frustration and then, when we don’t convert, violence.

* * *

At one point, I had to move out of the hostel for a week because it was fully booked. All the other hostels were fully booked, too. The representative from the municipality helped me find a hotel room. Although it wasn't a holiday, most of the hotels were booked and this one was quite expensive. I determined that I would focus on my enjoyment of hot showers and a decent bed but start looking for an apartment.

My plan had been to stay in the hostel a long time, so I could meet people and perhaps find roommates, but switching rooms constantly and having to go to a hotel was annoying and expensive. There were two apartments for rent near my ulpan. The less expensive one was nice, with a modern bathroom and some furniture. However, it was a two-bedroom and the only people I knew were the missionaries. My “little brother” was leaving the country soon, but his sister will stay in Jerusalem until her army service begins in April. She has never shown any signs of being a missionary, and she is so nice and smart, and also... I'm a fool. I needed an apartment right away. The landlady showed us the apartment and the sister liked it, too. However, when she brought her mother to see it and possibly rent the other one, I backed out. I came to Israel to be with Jews, not to be surrounded by the wife's Christian "disciples" every Shabbos.

The landlady was no fool, but the wife is. After the landlady had shown them the apartments, she asked me if there was something wrong with the family; I said that I was sure they’d be responsible tenants. Then she immediately asked if the mother was a missionary. I didn’t want to gossip and yet I did want to talk to someone. “I think so... I’m not sure,” I whined. She was certain; apparently the wife had started to say something incriminating and then cut herself off. The landlady declared she would absolutely not rent to missionaries.

She and her husband had moved away from a town in Israel to escape missionaries. I explained how awful it was to live in the hostel surrounded by them and she promised to invite me to Shabbos dinner. (I don't think that will materialize, but there's a young, Orthodox girl in my ulpan who has promised to take me to some shiurim.)

A Facebook friend in Canada urged me to turn them in; I would have preferred that she introduce me to some Israeli Jews. She posted about my situation in a Facebook group without my permission. The landlady gave me the contact information for an anti-missionary organization and told me to report the family. I wondered why she wouldn't. I did contact organization, but only to ask if Cyrus, a group that pays for Jews to ship their belongings to Israel, was a missionary organization. They sent me an article about a couple of Christian missionaries affiliated with Cyrus who had had their conversions revoked and were expelled from Israel. (I guess I'll be leaving my things in storage in the States indefinitely.)

* * *

I had become quite fond of the son. He did not intend to move to Israel with the rest of his family. He wanted to return to the States, go to college, and become a police officer. I felt that he was trapped in a situation of his parents’ making. I misunderstood and thought that he was merely obliged to help his family perpetrate a lie and that he was more honorable than that. I was proud of him and continued to study with him every day after ulpan.

One day, however, he began a conversation that revealed too much. He surprised me by asking me my religion. When I told him I was Jewish, he said, “That could mean anything.” (How can he have no idea what a Jew is after converting and applying to make aliyah?!) Then he asked if I believed in the messiah!

“I believe in the coming of the messiah,” I said firmly, then added, “and Jesus was NOT it.” He had turned his face away after my first statement, so I don’t know what he made of my second statement.

There was no way to ignore the truth after that conversation. I wasn’t angry with him, but I was angry. I wanted to yell at his mother. She and her husband had lied to their beit din, to the Israeli government, and to me — and they had made their son participate in that lie. What kind of parents would do that to their child?

Their son had only confirmed what I had already known, but I didn’t want his parents to know that he had spilled the beans. What they’ve done is a crime. I didn't want them to be angry with him. I wanted him to go back to the States and be an honest, Christian boy.

I say that I wasn't angry with him, but I was deeply upset that my "friend" had lied to me, and I was a basket case in ulpan the next few days. I was focusing on my confusion and sense of betrayal rather than the Hebrew we were learning. I understood that he couldn’t be honest, but there’s no way to have a conversation with someone who is hiding who he really is. Several times, after than, when I voiced Jewish ideas in connection with the Hebrew we were learning, he denigrated them.

How can he have no interest in Judaism when he has attended a synagogue and gone through a conversion? How can he believe that there is one literal interpretation of the bible and yet agree to violate the commandment not to lie? If he’s a Christian, why did he want to wear a tallis? I had to remind myself that he's a little boy and that it's absurd for a mature woman to feel that he has betrayed her friendship.

I can almost forgive my stupidity; he was my only friend and my study partner. Language is not something you can acquire on your own. However, his recognition of my commitment to Judaism put a strain on our friendship. He began to skip our after-ulpan study session and be a little less friendly toward me.

* * *

Before the son began skipping our study sessions, I had a conversation with his mother that frightened me:

One erev Shabbat, she came to my room and invited me to the Karaite shul. I declined at first. Then she told me that they don’t meet in Jerusalem often and I decided to take advantage of the opportunity even if it meant associating with missionaries. On our walk there, I finally recognized the depth of her contempt for Judaism.

She complained that the Jewish prayer book had been written by people and that the Karaite prayer book was superior because it was just the word of god. (I didn't point out that some person had to compile the Karaite prayer book and the Jewish siddur is definitely rooted in the bible even if she does not recognize it.) She also asserted that the Karaites are better than Jews because they don’t “believe in” the Talmud. (Guess she doesn't know that they had to write their own.) She asserted that the Oral Law is of no value, that it couldn't have come from Moses, and that it was entirely a creation of Rabbi Akiva.

I disagreed and told her about ben Zakkai who escaped Jerusalem and preserved the oral tradition in Yavneh. She did not like that and rushed ahead to walk with her son the rest of the way, leaving me far behind on the slippery, wet, Jerusalem stone, trying not to fall.

I’d always thought the expression “the oral law from Moses at Sinai” was a pious fiction, but during that walk I realized that, of course, Moses had had to interpret it, instruct the judges he appointed, who in turn had to interpret it, and then the people who learned from and followed those judges eventually faced situations that required further interpretation. It's reasonable to assume that the tradition of interpreting Torah and even some of the content goes back to Moses. (Only Christians, unversed in Jewish tradition could believe that go wants people to poke out other people's eyes. When you point this out, their response is always, "Oh, that the Jewish god." They don't notice the contradiction in that statement.)

This woman's views were Medieval Christian anti-Semitism! She believes that the way she, a middle aged woman from Missouri, understands the bible (in English) must be more correct than the way the Jewish people, who have lovingly preserved it for four thousand years, understand it. (You have to interpret the Bible! Even the Karaites certainly found out that it is impossible to read the bible literally.)

Later, I learned that she doesn’t believe in prayer at all! How can you be religious and not show your heart to god and let him transform it? (Edit: of course a Christian who believes that Judaism is nothing but prologue to Christianity isn't going to want to grow in her religion; then she'd have to accept that Judaism's developments since biblical times are valid, too.)

I was terrified of the mother after that conversation, but the night before she and her son returned to the States, I forced myself to go to her room and talk with her. I recommended that she read Constantine’s Sword. It’s a flawed book in many ways, but I hope if she reads it that she might begin to understand why Christians should stop being obsessed with Judaism. It wasn't not much, but it was the best I could do.

* * *

Since she and her son returned to the States, I keep finding myself chatting with their 21-year-old daughter, since the two of us attend the same ulpan and, until recently lived in the same hostel. She is very smart and accomplished and never mentions religion. I can’t put her in the same category as the rest of the family. And it's unlikely that she wants to convert Israeli Jews since she doesn't intend to stay here after she finishes her service as an IDF medic. Nonetheless, I know that I should just stay the hell away from her. How likely is it that she has a more positive attitude toward Judaism than her parents? Not likely at all.

She became a volunteer at the hostel in order to have an inexpensive place to live. Volunteers have to shower on the roof and I surprised myself by offering her the use of the shower in my room. One day, after ulpan, she said how adrift she feels without her family; she has never been away from them before. I felt for her. And I also felt that her mom would want me to look out for her — as if I owe her mother anything! I spent time with her and invited her to study the parasha with me on Shabbat (she declined that one).

I've had to move out of the hostel again, but I had her over for dinner at the hotel. I like her company and yet I feel bad for my good feelings toward her — it's a peculiar sensation.

It’s bad enough that I don’t protect myself from individuals who do not mean me well, but in this case, I’m not protecting my people from individuals who may intend all of us harm. (May? Come on, I know the history of Christian antisemitism and missionaries definitely mean us harm.)


The hatred of Jews has been no incidental anomaly
but a central action of Christian history, reaching to the core of Christian character.
James Carrol - Constantine's Sword

Sadly, there's a Part 2.

Maccabi

I had the opportunity today to discover that "socialized medicine" in Israel is a good thing.

This morning, my left ear lobe was a little pink and swollen. That's the first symptom of the cellulitis I had three times in Tucson. At first it looks like nothing, but if left untreated, it can become very serious, even fatal. I was terrified.

How, I wondered, do you obtain medical care in an unfamiliar city when you don't speak the language or know who your doctor is? I called someone who has volunteered with Magen David Adom. She didn't answer but I left a message begging her to drop everything and come help me. (I was too pushy, but really, cellulitis is that serious.)

Finally, I looked up the ulpan's website. It indicated that I shouldn't call Tamar before 2 o'clock, but I called immediately. It was about 9 in the morning.

She found Maccabee's phone number, then called them and told me which numbers to press to get to an English speaking representative. He gave me the address of the closest Terem (emergency center). It took forever to find a cab, but once I got there, the long line moved quickly and I saw a doctor very soon. He had seen this before and prescribed IV antibiotics three times a day. (One doctor in the US suggested aspirin and I had to tell her to review my file before she took it seriously.)

After seeing the doctor, I sat in a room with other people awaiting treatment and soon a nurse came in with an IV for me. She asked me if I was allergic to anything. When I said 'penicillin,' she looked embarrassed and left for twenty minutes.

What I finally got was Rocephin/Ceftriaxone IV 1000 mg. (I checked with Google and this isn't recommended for people with kidney disease, but what the hell.)

In a little while, the train stops running for Shabbat, but the clinic is probably closer by foot than by cab, so I'm not worried.

Trying to make my way in Israel has made me feel so alone, but at least I know that I can get help in an emergency.

If intravenous antibiotics are less brutal than oral antibiotics that I took in the States, I should feel better in a few days. And perhaps intravenous treatment will completely eradicate it from my system.

Next week, I am taking a tour to Tsfat and the Golan. (I will, of course, take pictures, but won't be able to post them until I replace the cord that connects my camera and computer.)

Today will not be seized, at least not by me

So overdue for a blog post. Just thinking of composing complete sentences is exhausting. All I've done for the last several weeks is go to ulpan, sleep, and eat. The weekend always vanishes faster than a dream.

Last night, however, I went to a Karaite shul, at the invitation of someone at the hostel, and this morning to Reform services-- by myself, thankfully. (I had not expected to find a Reform community in Israel, which is one reason that I went to Beit Haverim in Oregon for Rosh HaShannah and Yom Kippur.)

The woman who invited me to the Karaite shul last night propounded some medieval anti-Semitic views while we were walking with her family to to the Old City. (The Jewish prayer book is supposedly no good because it was written by people instead of God; the oral law couldn't have begun with Moses, was written entirely by Rabbi Akivah, and is full of falsehoods.) The shock rather dimmed my awareness of the Karaite service, which was occasionally very familiar and which I might have enjoyed otherwise, and I rushed away from her as soon as the service was over.

After that conversation, I was quite ready to appreciate the new Reform siddur this morning. I know the committee that created it was well versed in tradition, including Reform Judaism. It's a book that I could enjoy studying and learning to pray with.

The Murstein synagogue is quite close to the ulpan and to the apartment that I want. I just need a roommate since it's a two bedroom. I'm going to email the landlady after Shabbos and ask her if I can post a "roommate needed" ad describing her rental. 

Today's parasha was Toldot. I've always loved Esau for building a life and moving forward despite what had been taken from him. It occurs to me that I've never given enough thought to Rebecca and Isaac.

Most of the congregation consisted of young rabbinical students, but there were a couple of "older" rabbis. I really enjoyed the sermon one of them gave. How wonderful that feminism has made inroads for enough time that you can meet a female rabbi who is also a grandmother!

I'm looking forward to meeting the rabbis as they're closer to my age than the rest of the congregation and there's a student I'd also like to chat with: she wears a kippah all day long wherever she is in Jerusalem and she has been keeping a journal of what people say to her about it. (And perhaps, if I get to know people there, I can sit in on some classes.)

They only have services twice a month, which means it will take a long time to become part of the community, but I'll be able to host Shabbos meals when I get that apartment. (I just need to find a roommate-- I wish Aaron would get back to me about whether he knows a Jewish girl who needs a place!)

Oy. All I do on weekends is eat sleep and eat. Feels as if this weekend will be no different...

The main post office on Rahov Yaffo

Go North, Olah, Go North

Why am I in Jerusalem? I wanted to live in the north. Oh, I remember: when I didn't get into that absorption center in the north, I decided to live somewhere familiar where I would meet lots of people.

I've been here barely two days, but this all feels wrong. Mostly, it's me. I'm not the outgoing optimist I was six years ago. Back then, I felt that I belonged to the Land. I wanted to see more than Jerusalem and I still do. There's nothing but pavement here. I'm also not enjoying the clientele at the hostel: missionaries, messianics, and some Jews(?) who seem suspiciously Christian.

I'll contact Nefesh b'Nefesh for help "Going North," but I don't suppose they'll be any help. I'm just going to have to make this work on my own.

The Modern Spellcaster's Tarot

I love that the creators of this deck have restored the elemental associations of Swords and Wands! I remember spending an entire evening, many years ago, repressing my natural inclination and reprogramming myself to think that Wands represented the element of fire and that Swords represented the element of air.

I'm glad they've made this change, but I don't understand why the images remain so similar to Pixie's drawings considering the "new" elemental associations!

The question is perhaps, how much do I rely on elemental associations in my readings? And if elemental associations are only significant in meditations and spell work, why don't I use a Marseilles deck for the practices?

.

Empowerment

Joanna Powell Colbert describes the paddle as a symbol of power, like a staff or a wand. The canoe represents focus and faith in yourself. The marine life and birds are allies that will help you. If you cultivate will power and clarity within yourself, you can travel confidently toward your goal. Rachel Pollack writes that one must leave the past, even past successes, behind to learn the "ultimate truth about oneself and the cosmos."

Joanna offers this question for meditation when The Canoe appears in a reading: What goal do I need to focus on?

I pulled Strength, which advises that I develop my sense of personal power.

Journeys

What is the most enriching way for me to proceed?
What is the most enriching way for me to proceed?
What is the most enriching way for me to proceed?

Hummingbird grabs me by the hair and we travel through lots and lots of clouds
When we pass through the barrier, there are stars and white pavement
the sky is black but we're not in the dark
He leaves me at the bottom of the stairs
I climb them, pass the small, doorless buildings with domed roofs
pass children and an old woman who looks me in the eye when I nod to her
I pass larger, white, domed buildings
When I reach the two stair cases, my teacher is waiting

Hello, Sharah

She takes me by the hand and we climb further
Then we turn down a white alley and shortly reach the desert

We begin walking in the desert
There's lots of dust, we raise it with our steps
After we walk for a while, I see that the land drops off in the distance
We reach that point and Shara begins to climb down
It's very steep and there are loose rocks
Sometimes she reaches back to help me over difficult places

The vegetation gets thick, but she pushes a way through
I hear the sound of rushing water
We reach the river and she pushes me in
When I come up and open my eyes, she's not laughing
I immerse completely and when I come up again, she cries, Kosher

So I immerse two more times
The water is rushing very quickly, the current is strong, but I stay in one place, near Shekhina
(Shekhina? Why not Shara?)

She tells me to stay there, so I lie on my back and look at the sky
It's daytime, but there are stars
The water is very cold, but I'm warm
When I want to come out, she reaches down and helps me
She wraps me in something brown and soft
We stand next to each other
I'm glad I immersed
Was that the answer to my question?

I put an arm around her shoulders and she puts an arm around my waist
We stand there looking at the river
I want to dive back in the river, but I remain still

An eagle flies overhead
I ask her to teach me something
She sits down on the edge over the river and I do, too
My feet don't touch the water
See that eagle, she says, he was a prince

I wait for the rest of the story, but she doesn't say anything more
the sky becomes dark
cloudy and dark
the hills on either side of the river are blackness
lightning and then thunder

I want to dive into the river, but I can't see it anymore because of the darkness
I look at the sky, lightning behind the clouds
then thunder
the clouds' glow becomes green
the green light becomes brighter, but I still can't distinguish anything around me

I say, I'm scared, and I reach for my teacher's hand

Don't be afraid, she says

It's daytime again
The sky is blue and there are no stars
I jump into the river and begin swimming
I'm swimming hard, but I'm moving with the current, too
Shekhinah is with me
The water is rushing uphill
Soon we're traveling very steeply uphill

There a water-rise (a reverse waterfall)
At the top, I'm standing in still, shallow water
I look up and see a drop of water hit the surface of the water, I'm at the bottom of a green pool
drops of water make rings on the water's green surface
There are plants growing down here, at the top of the waterfall
The bottom of the pool isn't large, not much space to walk further
I look up at the green water and wonder if I will float to the top
I'm lying on my back looking up in surprise because the sky is blue, not green

I sink to the bottom of the pool
I'm very sleepy
What happens if you fall asleep while you're journeying?
I swim down the waterfall, it's hard to go against the current
I keep swimming and see that I'm alone
Finally, I reach the spot where I immesed and Shekhina pulls me out
She wraps me up again and I tell her I'm very tired
She puts an arm around me and walks me up the hill
It's not so steep now and there's a path to the right

When we get to the top, she walks in a new direction
We reach her home, lots of white pavement, pillars, statues
The waterfountain and two couches are inside
Someone is waiting, kneeling on the floor between the couches, making coffee
She puts little cups on the table
My teacher points to one, I pick it up
When she lifts hers, we both drink
It's delicious
She tells me to go home and sleep

I walk outside, fly over vineyards and orchards to the base of the stairs
Hummingbird appears and carries be back

It took exactly the same amount of time to write this up as it did to journey. And I'm certain that I forgot some things.

Edit: Did I ever ask my question, "What is the most enriching way for me to proceed?"
 
 

Dream

I had a dream last night. I can only remember my interpretation of it, not much of the dream itself. I will meet Rene next April. 

April 30, 2017: I was almost run over by a speeding tour bus today, but it seems as if my interpretation of that dream was inaccurate.

Nutmeg

I have sacrificed my cat to aliyah. I keep crying about it, but if I could change it, I would not.

Nutmeg in her favorite spot

She was too old to travel overseas, so I had to find a home for her here. It took a very long time, but in late July, I finally found people willing to adopt her. The closing of their house was delayed until September. I wanted to do the right thing and ensure Nutmeg had a good home, so I postponed my aliyah (and then NBN postponed it further).

It may sound crazy, but I talked to her a lot about the changes to come, and believed that she understood and was ready to go. Our last day together was a Saturday. We stayed in bed for hours. She understood it was our last day and stayed by me all day long, not even spending any time napping in her sunny spot on the balcony. She sat on my lap while I petted and talked to her all afternoon.

Tarot Prayer to find a good home for Nutmeg

That evening, her new parents came for her. We loaded her furniture, lots of food, extra meds, brush, toys, and other possessions into their pickup truck and I drove Nutmeg to their place in my car.

I felt good about her being in her new home, but it was weird to climb the stairs to my apartment and remember that Nutmeg would not be greeting me at the door. Many times a day, I'd look around and wonder where she was. I hadn't known that so much of my attention had always been on her.

A book on the foot stool by my bed would no longer prevent her from getting into bed. My blinds could be closed at night and she wouldn't bang them against the window to look out when it started to get light. My Mac could be on my lap, instead of the arm of the chair so she could be in her favorite seat. I could walk into the kitchen without being a "tease." I didn't have to hurry home worried that she was lonely. I could sleep past sunrise instead of serving her breakfast. I even planned a short trip and purchased airline tickets because I didn't have to worry about Nutmeg being lonely. I felt liberated.

I didn't have to pet her and talk to her for half an hour at a time. She didn't jump into bed to lie right next to me at the beginning of the night. I missed her.

Ribbon is the best toy!

Wednesday, four days after the couple adopted her, the man called. I knew there was only one reason that he would call me. He told me that he thought Nutmeg was very sweet, but his girlfriend was severely allergic.

I heard myself saying, "Well, I guess you want to get her out of the house as quickly as possible." He said he'd bring her back sometime later in the week. I offered to come over and help, but he declined. I told him I could be around anytime Thursday or Friday.

Earlier that day, I'd finally received my flight reservation. Immediately after the man's call, I called two acquaintances and asked them to be on the look out for a new home for Nutmeg. I also e-mailed Nefesh b'Nefesh and learned that if I cancelled more than 30 days before the flight, the fine would only be $190, not the $2,000 that I'd expected. But I did not want to cancel my flight-- this journey has been two years in the making. Then I sat it Nutmeg's favorite chair and agonized for hours.

I imagined Nutmeg coming through the door again and how happy she'd be. After her three week stay in a pet resort, she couldn't get enough of me. Then I imagined myself, staying in Tucson for months and months, waiting for someone to adopt her, and I despaired.

It seemed my only option would be to take her to a shelter. The idea made me cringe even though several people have told me that shelters are okay. After hours of crying and worrying, I texted the man at 12:35 a.m. and asked him to do take her to a shelter for me. And then I didn't fall asleep until early early in the morning.

The girl texted me Thursday morning, very angry. "This is a medical condition." I explained my situation, but backed down a little; if they'd promise to keep looking for a home for Nutmeg, I'd take her back.

As the day got later and later, I felt like I was being tortured. Did I want to see Nutmeg coming through the door or not? Where was the man with my cat? (They had been several hours late picking her up, too.) I texted the woman and asked what time her boyfriend would bring Nutmeg over.

Her boyfriend immediately texted me: "9 tomorrow." I asked if he meant morning or night, but he didn't respond.

"Scratching is for the very young; I just recline."

I thought about Nutmeg, probably locked alone in a room to prevent the spread of allergens. She hates being alone. I considered driving over and getting her. I would be able to fit her food and her window seat in my car with her carrier. But I kept worrying about aliyah, too, so I didn't go get her. 

The next morning, I checked my messages. He'd written that he'd arrive at 9 a.m., so I waited. At 9:22, I called, but he didn't answer. I checked my messages again. I tried to text the girl, but she had "unfriended" me on Facebook. I checked my phone and didn't see any calls from him.

At 11, I called a friend and asked if I should go over to their house and try to get her. I had carefully noted how to get back there, just in case they invited me to stop by and say goodbye to Nutmeg before I left.

As I was driving there, I began to wonder. She'd be there, wouldn't she?

There was a derelict truck under the car port, but the man's black pick-up was not there. I went to the window of the room they had put her in. The blinds were down and the lights were off. Obviously, Nutmeg was gone. I was distraught.

I listened to my voice mail and found that he had left a message (using a different phone) very early in the morning. "We found her a home" was all he had said. I tried calling again, but he didn't pick up.Where was my girl? Was she okay?

I didn't have the girlfriend's phone number and I couldn't leave her a message on Facebook. Then I remembered where she worked. It's a vet's office, so I thought they might have helped locate a new home and know something about it.

Hours later, the girlfriend called me, furious that I'd called her work. Her boyfriend hadn't returned my calls because his phone wasn't working. Finally, she answered my questions. Nutmeg is with a couple who have one 10-year-old cat and, yes, she said, it's a good home. She had to hang up because she was driving. They were going away for a wedding.

When she said "Of course she's in a good home," my intuition told me that it was true. Or maybe I just want it to be true.

I don't know where Nutmeg is or what the place or the people or the other cat are like. 

I talked to another friend. She suggested I contact the man one more time. I did. I wrote that a picture of Nutmeg in her new home would ease my heart.

I haven't heard from him.

Nutmeg and her dad, three years ago

My sweet little girl. I wish I knew where you are now. I hope you are well. But I'm not going to try to find out. Please, universe, keep her safe and happy.

Journeys

It has been too long since I journeyed. Not sure what intention to set. I've already have an answer about Nutmeg.

How can I feel more centered and more accepting of uncertainty?
How can I feel more accepting of uncertainty?
How can I feel more accepting of uncertainty?

(or how about: how can I have more fun right now?)

How can I feel more accepting of uncertainty?

As soon as the drumming starts, I am standing beneath the arm of the saguaro
I ask, How can I feel more accepting of uncertainty?
I enter the wood pecker nest and travel down the trunk and short roots
Travelling through the tunnel at a moderate speed, but reach the cave immediately
Walk across the rocks to the river and the canoe is there
I get in and we float down the river
It's dark but I can see clearly
We pass the very small beach, go around a curve, and reach the underground lake
Instead of gliding toward the "pillars," the canoe stops

It asks me, without words, where I want to go
I picture Saguaro and we move forward
When we are under the volcano's narrow cone, I float up

It's daytime, but not extremely bright
I see Saguaro and walk down the side of the mountain a short distance to reach her
She's still growing from hardened black lava and there is still hardened red lava behind her
I say, Hi, and she bows slightly
I bow back

I feel terrible, mentally, emotionally, and physically. I'm so worried. How can I be more accepting of uncertainty?
Saguaro hugs me and there are no needles to hurt me
She very holds me very close and it feels wonderful
I say, I want to stay like this forever
She doesn't stop hugging me and we're very close, we have almost merged into one
We hug for a long time

Then we're not hugging any more
I'm standing in front of her, looking at her, waiting
She takes my hand and begins walking up the mountain, not toward the cone, but a little to the left
We're walking very, very slowly

I expect there will be more ocean, and there is
We continue walking, down the gentle slope on the other side
There are scrub bushes, dry, desert bushes that seem out of place
Saguaro picks a leaf for me to eat
I'm surprised that it's thick and succulent
I ask, So walking and eating will be good for me?

I want to swim and I think about flying to the ocean and diving in, but I stay with Saguaro
Saguaro touches me on the back and, without words, tells me to follow my impulses

I fly to the ocean and dive straight in
Good form, I say

I realize I have a mermaid's tail and I move it
It propels me through the water very fast
I pass a school of dark fish
I turn over on my back and can see Saguaro in the distance
The water's not smooth enough for me to just float and relax, so I go underwater again

As I move further out, I notice no other life
I wonder if I'll find seaweed if I go deeper
I don't like this-- no life, just like my first journeys to the lower world
I turn back and swim swiftly to shore
I wonder how I'll move on land with a tail and decide to just lie in the sand and waves

But I don't have a chance to do that; the drumming changes
I look up at Saguaro and wave
Then I fly up and to the volcano's cone
The canoe takes me back
The drumming is very slow and I move through the tunnel very slowly
But then, I'm standing by the saguaro and I say, I'm back.

(I wish I could record my sessions. Typing them up afterward is a chore I don't enjoy.)  

Journey

My intention was to ask Saguaro how I can help Nutmeg and Sophie the Dog become friends.

I went to the saguaro and looked at her and her new growth. Then I stood under one of her arms and dove into the woodpecker nest.

I traveled down her roots and through the tunnel to the cave. I noticed again that I didn't hear my feet walking across the fist-sized rocks or the water flowing in the river.

The canoe was there and took me down the river, through the darkness, past the tiny beach, and to the underground lake with its pillars. When we were under the volcanoe's cone, I looked up and saw stars and black sky.

I floated up and stood on the side of the mountain. I didn't recognize any constellations, but I wouldn't necessarily. I walked and slid down the side of the mountain to Saguaro. Even in the dark I could distinguish black lava and red lava rock.

Hi

Hi

My cat's moving in with a dog called Sophie. What can I do to help them get along, become friends?

Saguaro raised her (?! last time: he) arms to the stars and waved them about.
She was dancing in place with her face upraised.

You want me to pray?

You got it.

I spoke to Grandfather Sky, the stars of the lower world, Nutmeg's spirit, and Sophie's spirit.
And I prayed.

Since there's more time, will you tell me how to take care of my health? Lab work says I am very sick.

Before I finished speaking, Saguaro walked behind me and put her hands on my back.
She was vibrating.
Then she put my hands on my back and her "hands" on my shoulder, and we began dancing under the stars.
She spun me around and we kept dancing.
I saw myself in Israel, energetic, moving about. Perhaps dancing through Israel will heal me.
My dancing became quite vigorous as I stomped to the beat of the drum.

The stars darkened and we stopped dancing.
I should be looking toward the future. Should I stop writing about the past?

You want to write.

Yes. How can I write and still look forward?

Light a candle. Set a boundary of space and time.

Okay. Is there anything you want to show me while I'm here?

I thought she was going to take my hand, but she didn't, and then the drum rythm chaged.
I have to go. Thank you for answering my questions about Nutmeg, my health, and writing.

I rushed up the hill and dropped feet first into the volcano.
The canoe took me back to the river, and struggled upstream.
I stepped out of the canoe and I glanced upriver toward the grassy opening that I sometimes use when exploring the lower world.

The drumming stopped and I looked at the canoe and said, Thank you. I could see the turquoise designs on its side.
Then I ran through the cave, rushed up the tunnel, and was back.

 

No need to take it personally

The Jewish Agency and Nefesh b'Nefesh help or hinder potential olim entirely at random; there is no need for me to take it personally.

A Canadian couple's aliyah application was denied because they didn't provide birth certificates. The "husband was born in Kazakhstan in 1945 while his parents were on the run from Nazis. The wife was born in Czechoslovakia to Holocaust survivors in 1947." They don't have birth certificates.

A NBN representative stated, "It’s a Jewish Agency issue,” adding that she would try to help out.

If you believe that NBN will make any effort
on their behalf, you have never dealt with NBN.

Claim Your Power

Be here and grateful.
Bless the changes to come.

(Images from The Gaian Tarot)

Journey

I will meet Saguaro in the lower world and ask for healing.

I walk toward the saguaro and stand under one of her arms
I state my intention three times
Then I travel down her roots and through the tunnel

I reach the cave and walk to the river
I wait only a moment before the canoe appears
I sit in the canoe and we travel down the river, past the little beach, and to the underground lake

I float up to the opening of the volcano
I see only ocean and loose, black rocks
But again, it strikes me that this landscape is not lifeless as the first one was

I walk down the steep mountain side
The Saguaro stands on black, cooled lava
Behind him is red, but cooled lava
Somehow not out of place in this landscape
There are many green, non-tropical trees behind him
I approach and explain why I've come
Will you heal me?

Yes

I sit on the ground
For several moments, he does nothing
Then Saguaro raises his arms and points to my heart
White energy flows at my heart

My heart is a smooth, white stone
It vibrates as the energy touches it
Saguaro dances as he sends energy to my heart
My whole body vibrates
This continues for a long time

Then my throat fills with the energy
It feels swollen and painful

Saguaro continues to send energy to my heart and my whole body vibrates
My throat feels very uncomfortable, but I just accept the feeling
(I am aware of my body in ordinary reality and it feels very, very tired)

After a long time, Saguaro stops and lifts his arms
We talk briefly (I can't remember what we said)
Then he falls asleep

I stand and bow
Thank you

I look at the ocean and the rocky hillside
Then I look up and see a bird soaring
I float up, looking up at the bird and then down at the volcano
I decide to follow the bird
It circles out further and further, to the ocean and back over the Saguaro
I dive into the volcano

The canoe and I journey back to the cave

Thank you, I say, before traveling back to the other saguaro

Journey

I approached the saguaro, my entry to the lower world, and announced my intention to meet the spirit of Saguaro

The tunnel was completely dark
I traveled along it for a very long time before arriving in the cave

I couldn't see anything, but made my way to the river
I could sense the canoe passing
I waited for it to pass before walking up river

Suddenly I decided to travel downriver in the canoe
Stop!

I jumped in quickly
Laying on my stomach and facing forward, I traveled down river in the canoe

We reached the large, underground lake with its "pillars"
We traveled on the lake for a very long time
Then I looked up and saw sunlight

It was like and not like the top of a volcano
Only a little of the top was missing, the peak of the former mountain was still mostly there

I floated up, leaving the canoe behind

Loose, black, pumice covered the top of the mountain
The ocean was visible in the distance
I walked down
I didn't see plants or animals, but the place did not seem lifeless

Then I saw a Saguaro with two arms standing a little ways below
There were green trees behind it
I walked toward it

I've come to meet you. May I ask for a healing?

Yes.

What kind of healing can you give me?

It showed me a vision
My heart exploded like a volcano, for a moment it was a smooth white stone
I wondered

I don't understand, but I will think about what you've shown me
What kind of healing can I offer my saguaro, the one I call Asherah?

Offer her more root-beer. And bless her bees.

Really?

Offer her more root-beer. And bless her bees.

Okay. I don't understand what you showed me about my heart, but thank you for your time.
I'm going now.

I walked back up the slope of loose, black, stone

Stepped over the edge and floated down
The canoe was still there and we traveled back
I stepped out when we reached the cave and said, Thank you
I walked back to the tunnel and journeyed quickly back to the saguaro

Soul Work

Hermit:
Refresh your spirit and cleanse trauma from your body.
Seek guidance in Nature and wisdom in her creatures.

Four of Fire:
Draw energy from your surroundings and celebrate your body.
Find freedom of spirit and follow the example of Saguaro.

Together:
Blend Fire with Water and Water with Fire.
Travel through darkness, blend it with light.
Gift it to others.

(Images from The Gaian Tarot)

Message in the Storm

(Note: I generally read the cards from right to left, the way the moon appears to increase in size each month)

    

Reach out and trust, even in chaos.
Harness thunder's courage.
Love all beings.

What a sad world we live in live, where having learned not to trust means you’ve finally succeeded. 

  

(Images from The Gaian Tarot)

Journey

I entered through the saguaro boot, down its roots, and into the tunnel

Something pushed the soil and created a different tunnel
There were fingers redirecting me
And I traveled through the fur of a bunny rabbit
The new tunnel opened into a tiled hallway

The floors and walls and ceiling were covered in white, bathroom tiles
Someone hurried me in one direction and then back to a different hallway
We descended stairs
And then we were in a subway station
The platform was also covered in white, bathroom tiles
A train came from the left, stopped, and then moved on
We had to wait for another

I was looking the wrong way
There was a track behind me
A train arrived and the doors opened
I was given three lei of pink flowers

Then I saw a man who was sick or dying
He reached out to me and I started to hand him the pink lei

Someone... my power animal, I think... reminded me that I'd been told not to part with the lei
But the man needed them, so I handed them to him anyway and he vanished

It was time to travel back
Dove flew me back to the tunnel

I think I fell asleep before we made it all the way back. Then I dreamed that a flight I was supposed to take was cancelled and we all had to wait for another flight. A stewardess kept telling me that I could take a different flight to a different place. I continued to wait with the other passengers. Finally, I understood that I was the scheduled pilot on the other flight. She explained that I'd be back in time to take the flight to Mexico and spend Passover with my children. I was a man in the dream. I ran toward the other plane, but the airport was designed poorly and I had to climb a ramp that everyone was using to get to their flights.

Edit: I found a used book... "Giving away a lei that had been presented to you was considered most unfortunate. Additionally, it was considered wrong to ask for a lei that another was wearing." - Hawaiian Religion and Magic by Scott Cunningham
 

Journey

I intended to go to the upperworld and ask for two healings.

Hummingbird took me to the upper world, directly to my teacher's home.

One of the women who had healed me last time was sitting on the floor by the two couches doing some sort of handicraft. I asked her if she'd do more healing on my foot and she did.

My teacher arrived and I asked her to heal my life. She began drumming on an enormous but very thin hand drum. (I kept thinking of it as a tambourine.) She held it before her face and beat a rhythm with her right hand. She continued for a long time, her rhythm reinforcing the recorded drumming.

I decided she was telling me that journeying was how I'll heal. Then I wondered if she was telling me to do more drumming.

She stopped and took me to the fountain where I splashed water on my face and then washed and dried her hands. I thanked her and the other woman. Then hummingbird took me back.

Music

Saguaro

This is the saguaro near my home that I visualize when I journey to the lower world.

Journey

I had decided to learn how to journey, hoping that I could discover the answer myself. Today, I decided to ask my question.

I went to the saguaro, entered the "boot," traveled down the saguaro's roots, and through the tunnel

I did not see the canoe floating down the river this time

When I came out of the grassy opening, I was overwhelmed by the presence of the ocean
I think that, for a second, I heard the waves
Dove did not appear immediately and I just let myself feel the power of the ocean below

When Dove arrived, I put out my left hand and he landed there
I asked if I could stroke his feathers and he let me
We stood there for a very long time as I admired the texture and sheen of his white feathers

Eventually, I told him that I'd come to ask a question
After I did, he began shuffling back and forth across my finger
He was dancing to the drumming
I laughed, but considered what it could mean
Then he began moving his head to the rhythm, too
I laughed again, but asked him to be more literal, more explicit

He flew away and I followed him, hoping we weren't going to spend hours in the clouds again

Two islands appeared in the distance
It took a long time to reach them, but he only turned around and flew back to the familiar coast line
I playfully chased him around that piece of land and then he landed on my hand again
I stroked his feathers and warned him with mock seriousness I'd be back if I couldn't figure out his message
He took me through the grassy opening and alone, I retraced my path back to the saguaro

I napped for a short time immediately after the journey. When I woke up, the first thing I thought of was the song Waltzing Mathilda.

The Canoe

During my journeys to the lower world, I usually see an empty canoe, floating down a river. When I once boarded the canoe, there was no paddle, so I couldn't direct it. The message of this canoe may be similar to the message of the tarot card that is usually called The Chariot.

Joanna Powell Colbert describes the paddle as a symbol of power, like a staff or a wand. The canoe represents focus and faith in yourself. The marine life and birds are allies that will help you. If you cultivate will power and clarity within yourself, you can travel confidently toward your goal. Rachel Pollack writes that one must leave the past, even past successes, behind to learn the "ultimate truth about oneself and the cosmos."

Joanna Powell Colbert offers this question for meditation when The Canoe appears in a reading: What goal do I need to focus on? I pulled Strength, developing my sense of personal power.

Journey

Shorter route
Hummingbird took me directly to my teacher's home

Asharah and I drank tea and sat together
I had intended to ask something else, but I asked her for healing

I explained that I wanted evidence that she is real
She looked at my left foot and ran her fingers over the toe nails
We sat a while longer

Then we went into the back of her house
It was a marble floor and there were pillars
I think she wanted to go beyond the patio, but I resisted

I asked her how should I live and she repeated my question

Then she lifted my hands above my head
Like I'm victorious?

We went back inside and one of her servants began working on my foot
Another massaged me neck and later my right knee
Asherah and I communed over tea while that was going on

She wanted me to travel with her down the flowing water in the fountain
I resisted again-- I don't know why
Eventually, I thanked the servants
They weren't done, so I stayed longer
Then Asherah had me bathe in the fountain

She walked me to the door and Hummingbird took be back the usual route

I realized midway through the journey that I wasn't narrating it aloudI think that's why it was less vivid that other journeys

Journey

I tried journeying outdoors and used a rattle. Even though no one was around, throughout my journey, part of me continued to be aware of my body and the place I was sitting.

After traveling the usual route and climbing through the grassy opening, Dove flew at me and landed on my left shoulder. I asked him if he'd take me to a safe place in the middle world. He said nothing and I waited.

Finally, he flew us to my teacher's house in the upper world and the three of us flew down to a blue ocean on earth toward several small islands. We came to a small lagoon and waterfall. I noticed there were no palm trees or flowers, but lots of ferns and vines. There was a young woman kneeling by the water. She was wearing some kind of skirt and a lei. She didn't seem to see us. My teacher said she was a ghost. (I don't know why I didn't get into the water.)

I asked my teacher something (I don't remember what) and I couldn't quite hear her answer; I thought she might be telling me that I shouldn't visit the middle world alone and that, right now, I don't need to visit the middle world at all.

My teacher returned to the upper world and Dove took me back to the grassy opening. I traveled the usual route very quickly.

Journey

Intended to visit the lower world and ask my power animal what I should be doing with my life.

Standing in front of the saguaro I focus on my intention for a long time
Then I travel through the saguaro and tunnel to the cave

I crouch and put my hand in the river and the canoe passes me again

I walk through the water, climb to the roof, and jump across to the grassy opening
As soon as I am standing above the opening, Dove lands on my shoulder
I greet him and then ask my question
He flies us up and into the clouds
We level out and fly through the clouds for a long time
The clouds are cold and damp
I ask him where we are going
I remember the lesson he taught me

Do you want me to descend?

He doesn't say anything

We stay in the clouds
I ask if he's trying to tell me that he can't see the answer
I ask if my vision is obscured

He doesn't respond to any of my questions

We travel for a long time
Eventually, we rise above the clouds
It's light, but I can't see the sun
There's nothing to see
I ask where we're going

We descend through the clouds and I see odds and ends:
a piece of furniture, someone's pet, two women talking and drinking, children's things...
Below the clouds is gray ocean

We continue flying high above the water, but it feels as if we aren't moving forward at all
This has gone on too long, so I "take charge"
I hold him in my hands so that I can do the flying
I take us back toward the coast, trying to cover the distance more quickly than he had
We are soon back by the grassy opening
I say that I understand that he wants me to take charge, but of what?

What am I supposed to be doing?

There are no people around, there's nothing to build

What am I supposed to be doing?

I release him and he sits on my shoulder again, saying nothing

I am going to ask you a slightly different question: should I make aliyah?

He flies toward the water and I follow him

Should I make aliyah?

He pecks at the sand, apparently finding small seeds there

We're back at the grassy opening
I thank him for his time, but tell him I'll be back with the same question

Alone, I retrace my route

I am back

Journey

I want to see my teacher again and try to just be in her presence as I would with a "real" person in ordinary reality. I will ask her if she is Asherah. During the journey, I will be lying in bed, not using headphones. I may not describe my journey aloud or write about it until the morning.

Hummingbird takes me directly to my teacher's home
For an instant, I can hear music, but then I'm deaf again
She comes to the entry and leads me to the couches
I bow before sitting down
Tea is already waiting
I wait for her to drink first
I just sit with her
It is a while before I ask, Is your name Asherah?

Yes

Are you the goddess, Asherah?

Yes

What do you want to teach me?

War

I'm not sure I heard that and ask again
She touches my cheek

Affection?

Yes

We drink more tea
Then she wants me to dance
A servant joins us
Even in spirit form, I'm not light on my feet
I sit down and she dances with her servant a little longer before she sits again

I say I'll visit tomorrow and ask about making aliyah

She suggests I visit the lower world

I say, I can ask Dove to show me other places there

Yes

I'm back. I don't think I traveled back through the upper world and to Earth with hummingbird, but I'm not sure because I was sleepy. (I am writing this immediately after my journey, but I was unable to speak during my journey. Also, Nutmeg was grooming herself while pressed against me and I could feel her moving, so part of my consciousness remained in the middle world and ordinary reality.)

Harner seems to suggest that my failure to travel back was not a big deal.

"Even if you should forget to come back when the drumming signals you to return, you will just drift back anyway, since the drumming will no longer continue to support you in the other reality. In many ways, shamanic journeying is safer than dreaming, for the journeyer can return whenever she or he likes." 

Temporary Power Animal

I was driving from one appointment to the next and realized that there was no way "to get there from here." I needed to turn west on one road, but the road I was currently on would only allow me to turn east onto the road I needed to take. 

I realized that my (temporary) power animal could locate an alternate route for me and wondered if it was okay to bother him with such a request. I decided to ask for his help. 

 The roads in that area are anything but a logical grid, but I easily found my way. "Thanks, Dove!"

In Cave and Cosmos, Michael Harner writes that "teachers in the Upper World do not mind being 'bothered'." I hope that applies to power animals, too.

Journey

I planned to journey to the upper world to speak with my teacher. I wanted to ask her name and what else she wants me to know about her. I wanted some advice about my cat; I may have found her a new home, but before I leave, I'd like her to have a power animal or some kind of protection. I also wanted to ask my teacher to help me find a power animal for myself.

I stepped onto the balcony and watched the hummingbird feeder
A hummingbird arrived and again ignored my right hand
He grabbed my hair with his long bill and we flew up past the building and to the clouds

We traveled though the clouds, quickly, but not as quickly as before
Above them, the sky was still blue
Even after we passed through the "aura" of the Earth, the sky was still light blue
Then we were in space and I could see some stars

Again, hummingbird set me down on the surface that I could not see
The wide, white stairs were ahead and a few people were on them
I climbed past the old man's house and through the alley with many houses
Fewer children were playing
I worried that my teacher might not be in the same place I'd met her before

The stairway I was climbing ended at the small plaza
She was standing at the bottom of the staircase she'd been descending last time
I hurried toward her
She touched me cheek and took my hand
We flew toward her home and entered the doorway

The fountain and couches were the same
We sat down and tea was served
After my first sip, I asked her name
I didn't hear clearly, there was an 'sh' sound in it

Shara?, I asked

I felt that she'd accept my calling her that
Shara, I said again

Then I said, I will try not to be so impatient this time
She smiled and we watched the fountain

I rushed
I told her that I wanted to make Nutmeg safe and that I'd like to meet a power animal

She said she would go to the lower world with me
I noticed that she didn't promise to find me a power animal
I tried to be patient, but instead asked, Can we go now?
She laughed, held my hand, and lead me to the fountain

We dove into the water, which carried us back to the Earth, past my balcony and to the saguaro
Standing before it, I introduced her to Asherah (that's what I call the saguaro) and took her hand again
We dove into woodpecker nest side by side

She had a wand in her right hand that lit the tunnel
It illuminated the cave, too
We had stopped holding hands when we reached the cave

I told her about the canoe
When we reached the river, it appeared
Shara pointed her wand toward it
I could not hear what she was saying, but knew she was blessing the canoe

Then, holding hands, we flew up toward the grassy opening
We stood above the ocean
It wasn't windy this time
She looked around and seemed to be thinking seriously
Then she led me up to the sweat lodge
She was silent and serious
We stood there for a long time

Then a white bird landed on the tall (north?) wall on the far side of the church
I wondered what kind of bird it was
It was completely white, very, very white
We watched it for a little while and then Shara lead me to the church
After we entered, the bird flew down to the altar

Are you my power animal, I asked

It flew up to the shorter wall of the church
I looked at Shara and she seemed very serious... worried?
I was impatient to go elsewhere so we could look for a power animal, but decided to say nothing and to wait

Shara motioned that I should approach the bird
Voicelessly, she instructed me to ask the bird to be my power animal
I did and it flew toward me
I put out my right hand and it landed on my hand
I could feel when it pecked gently at my forefinger
Then it jumped onto my left shoulder and told me it would be my power animal until another one appeared
I could see it from the corner of my eye, but not feel it on my shoulder

I asked what it's name was

Dove

What can you teach me, I asked

How to fly without fear that you'll loose control
I knew he was referring to dreams I had as a kid in which I kept climbing higher and higher and was unable to descend and land

Dove held me and we took off, Shara behind us, flying over the low wall of the church and then down to the sweat lodge
We flew around the sweat lodge, close to the ground
Then we flew up and toward the ocean
We dove down to the ocean waves and then up
Before we reached the clouds, we dove down again
Then we flew back toward the church and to the gate I'd seen on my first journey here

We flew just a little further and landed near the remains of an old fire
It was small and round and close to the hillside
The ashes in it were mostly black rather than gray
I asked if people had been there recently
Dove seemed to nod, Shara said nothing

We flew back to the ocean, diving close to the waves and up
We did this many times
Dove wasn't holding me all the time
Shara was laughing and I felt the misty, salt water covering me each time we dove close the the waves

Dove was holding me again and we all flew to the grassy opening
I thanked him for the lesson and for being my power animal

Just until another appears, he reminded me

I felt disappointed at his reluctance
I thanked Shara for introducing us
Then Shara and I went down into the cave and back through the tunnel

We stood outside the saguaro and she reached out to touch it

As we flew to my balcony, I wanted to ask her to stay with me, but was afraid of being too demanding
I asked anyway and she agreed
I asked her what I should do today

Just what immediately needs doing, don't worry about the future

We landed on the balcony and I thanked her again

I'm back.

Odd that she touches my cheek, affectionate
Just after the journey, I found several Wikipedia articles about that name
Later, I wondered if the name were related to the Darkover novels
This evening, I wondered if the name she gave me was actually Asherah
In Cave and Cosmos, Harner says that people meet divinities in the upper world
Is she the goddess Asherah or a spirit who is simply named Asherah?
In Cave and Cosmos, Harner says you should have only one question per journey
I did emphasize that the first thing I wanted to do was find a power animal
Again, I didn't really try to be present to her or get to know her
Interesting that she blessed the canoe
She was so serious and seemed to be considering a problem
Had she wanted me to ask her something else?
Was she concerned because I hadn't seen any animals in the lower world?
Did I see the "holy spirit" at the Christian church? (oy)
The teacher in the Spokane workshop said a power animal would appear to you three times
I saw the bird on the north wall of the church, on the altar, and on the south wall
My teacher seemed so serious-- why?
I wonder if my teacher asked the bird to agree to be my power animal
The bird responded quickly when I asked what he could teach me; maybe it wanted to be my power animal all along
Interesting that that was my lesson
What did the campfire indicate?
Were the people who left it visitors, like me, or residents of the lower world?
I flew on my own, but I wasn't as ecstatic as people who described their journeys in Harner's book
I didn't do anything "important" today
When I was eating lunch, I asked my teacher if she could taste the food through me and invited her to do so