How to access your unconscious.
The speaker said as much, actually, the Underworld is both under our feet and under our conscious minds. He is eclectic: we journeyed for a Spirit animal, which is “Indian”, and took it into a chakra of our choice, which is, well, Indian.
But it is a brilliant way of accessing the unconscious. You lie back and relax, and there is the drum going regularly. I lay down in the tent, under a net with coloured strips hanging from it and woven through it, and he came over and sat by my head.
-I’ll try not to deafen you.
-Do what you must, I said, happily. Loud drumming is fine.
Then there is the story, and the voice giving it, hypnotically. We are in a meadow, and see a tree, with a hole to the Underworld. We go down into a garden, filled with beauties of my choice. I find myself anticipating, and choosing. After, when we talk about what our animals were, and what our experiences were, a woman worries that she is just finding what she imagines, or what she feels she ought to find. How would I know, whether my animal is proper, like, Inspiration, or just my thoughts?
Well, I don’t, though by its fruits I may know it. I had a dog, and that may just have been because a woman nearby was talking of her labrador, beforehand. It looks lovely, and knows it, and loves attention from people, asks for it, and always gets it, even when wet, with its big, brown eyes. Talking after, I widened the metaphor, thinking of that dog; a lap dog, which never touches the ground; that terrifying security dog; and working dogs. Dogs are extremely versatile. One woman had a cheetah, the other a badger, which she questioned initially, inwardly, but it stayed a badger. She did not know what to make of it. Perhaps the badger will come to her in dreams, and tell her.
Deep down, in the darkest depths of the Subconscious, dwells-
It could be a message from that. Then again, it could just be a useful metaphor. Anything, any magic, any spell to craft and call forth my courage.
Also at Buddhafield: Singing in the big top. A woman divided us into SATB, and gave us four part harmonies to remember, singing each line separately with each group. I alternated between Soprano and Bass, sometimes in the same song. Then we walked round the tent, mingling the voices. Doing this when younger, I could not hold a line, but changed to sing the tune rather than the harmony; now I sing my own line, Goddess looking gorgeous singing your soul out- you touched my heart wrote a friend.