Why You Want To Keep A Journal by Robert Moss

When a lusty, ambitious young Scot named James Boswell first met Dr. Samuel Johnson, Johnson advised him to keep a journal of his life. Boswell responded that he was already journaling, recording “all sorts of little incidents.” Dr Johnson said, “Sir, there is nothing too little for so little a creature as man.”

Indeed, there is nothing too little, or too great, for inclusion in a journal. If you are not already keeping one, I entreat you to start today. Write whatever is passing through your mind, or whatever catches your eye in the passing scene around you. If you remember your dreams, start with them. If you don’t recall your dreams, start with whatever thoughts and feelings are first with you as you enter the day, or that interval between two sleeps the French used to call dorveille (“sleep-wake”), a liminal space when creative ideas often stream through. If you have any hopes of becoming a writer, you’ll find that journaling is your daily workout that keeps your writing muscles limber. If you are already a writer, you may find that as you set things down just as they come, with no concern for editors, critics or consequences, you are releasing descriptive scenes, narrative solutions, characters – even entire first drafts – quite effortlessly.

Some of the most productive writers have also been prodigious journal-keepers. Graham Greene started recording dreams when he was sixteen, after a breakdown in school. His journals from the last quarter-century of his life survive, in the all-but-unbreakable code of his difficult handwriting. First and last, he recorded his dreams, and – as I describe in detail in my Secret History of Dreaming, they gave him plot solutions, character development, insights into the nature of reality that he attributed to some of his characters, and sometimes bridge scenes that could be troweled directly into a narrative. Best of all, journaling kept him going, enabling him to crank out his daily pages for publication no matter how many gins or how much cloak-and-dagger or illicit amour he had indulged in the night before.

You don’t have to be a writer to be a journaler, but journal-keeping will make you a writer anyway. In the pages of your journal, you will meet yourself, in all your aspects. As you keep a journal over the years, you’ll notice the rhymes and loops or cycles in your life. Mircea Eliade, the great Romanian-born historian of religions, was a great journaler. In the last volume of his published journals, he reflects, during a visit to Amsterdam in 1974, on how a bitter setback to his hopes at the time he first visited that city nearly a quarter-century before had driven him to do his most enduring work. He had been hoping that his early autobiographical novel, published in English as Bengal Nights, would be a big commercial success, enabling him to live as a full-time novelist. Sales were disappointing. Had it been otherwise, “I would have devoted almost all my time to literature and relegated the history of religions to second place, even though Shamanism was at the time almost entirely drafted.” The world would have gained a promising, and perhaps eventually first-class, novelist; but we might have lost the scholar who first made the study of shamanism academically respectable and proceeded to breathe vibrant life, as well as immense erudition, into the cross-cultural study of the human interaction with the sacred.

Synesius of Cyrene, a heterodox bishop in North Africa around 400, counseled in a wonderful essay On Dreams that we should keep twin journals: a journal of the night and a journal of the day. In the night journal, we would record dreams as the products of a “personal oracle” and a direct line to the God we can talk to. In the day journal, we would track the signs and correspondences through which the world around us is constantly speaking in a symbolic code. “All things are signs appearing through all things. They are brothers in a single living creature, the cosmos.” The sage is one who “understands the relationship of the parts of the universe” – and we deepen and focus that understanding by recording signs in our day journal.

Partly because I keep unusual hours, and am often embarked on my best creative work long before dawn, I don’t separate my night journal from my day journal. All the material goes into one book – a leather-bound travel journal, when I am on the road. I try to type up my entries before my handwriting (as difficult as Greene’s) becomes illegible and put the printouts in big ringback binders. I save each entry with a date and a title in my data files, so I automatically have a running index. One of the things you’ll come to see clearly, as you journal dreams over a considerable period of time, is that your dream self travels ahead of your waking self, scouting the ways.

(c) Robert Moss, All rights reserved.

www.mossdreams.com

Youtube- Present! – Dreaming with Robert Moss (part one)

Youtube- Present! – Dreaming with Robert Moss (part two)

Merlian News Podcasts with Robert Moss About Coincidences & Synchronicities


Aboriginal Dreaming Into the Dreamtime

Aboriginal Australians believe that we dream our way into this world, and dream our way out of it. “We talk to the spirit-child before a baby is born,” naturopath and traditional healer Burnham Burnham explained it to me. If the father-to-be is a dreamer, he is frequently the one who first meets the spirit-child in dreams. These dream encounters often unfold at places of water that exist in the natural world — a billabong, the shallows of a river, a waterfall — where the spirit-child plays with its own kind and is not confined to a single form. It can appear as a kingfisher or a platypus, as a fish or a crocodile.

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The Waters of Dreams by Robert Moss

In drugstore dream dictionaries we are told that water, as a dream symbol, is about emotions. Well, ye-es, it maybe, but what you find in your dream waters and what I find may be very different things. As with any dream, a dream of water may be symbolic, literal, or an experience of a separate reality. I have dreamed, over decades now, of being able to travel to the sea floor without any breathing problems and of encountering a Mother of the Deep and various other characters who seem to embody the elemental powers of the ocean. I have dreamed of healing in sacred pools, and delight in mermaid coves, and the kind of inundation that brings fresh new growth bursting into the world.

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Dreaming with Jung by Robert Moss

The night of my birthday in 1988. I entered the rooms of a tailor in Manhattan. I wanted to have a new suit made but did not like the fabrics he had in stock. When I left the tailor’s shop, the city was different. There was the sense that hidden things were pulsing behind the scenes. Still bent on new clothes, I entered the menswear section of an upscale department store. I pulled a suit off the rack. It fitted perfectly and the price was right. It seemed to have pinstripes. When I looked at the label, it read “Shamanic.”

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Merlian News Podcasts with Robert Moss About Coincidences & Synchronicities – Part 2

| by Merlian News

Robert Moss, a lifelong dream explorer who survived three near-death experiences in childhood. He is the creator of Active Dreaming, an original synthesis of dreamwork and shamanic techniques for empowerment and healing. He is a former university professor of ancient history at the Australian National University, also a bestselling novelist, shamanic counselor, and the author of five books on dreaming. Robert gives lectures and leads workshops all over the world. You can visit his website at www.mossdreams.com.

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Spiritual Experiences in Lucid Dreams by Clare R. Johnson, author of Llewellyn’s Complete Book of Lucid Dreaming

In lucid dreams, we are aware that we are dreaming, and with this awareness, we can guide and shape the dream, or go with the flow of events. We may find ourselves flying over magnificent vistas, breathing underwater, transforming into an eagle, hugging a much missed deceased friend, or simply soaking up the astonishingly real imagery and sensations of being conscious in a dream world. When we engage lucidly with our dreams, we illuminate them from within.

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Reports from the Other Side: Geraldine Cummins and F.W.H. Myers by Robert Moss

| by Robert Moss

“She came from the same Anglo-Irish milieu as William Butler Yeats, and wrote two plays that were performed at his beloved Abbey Theatre. Her mentor was the famous Irish medium Hester Dowden, said to have been the model for the psychic in Yeats’ spirited one-act play The Words Upon the Window-Pane. When she started practicing as a psychic medium, Yeats was one of the first people to consult her. Her name was Geraldine Cummins, and her life story as author, suffragette, medium and possible secret agent during World War II, is quite fascinating.”

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How to Break a Dream Drought By Robert Moss

| by Robert Moss

“When we start paying attention to the dreamlike symbols of the day, we often reopen our connection to the dreams of the night…Have you lost touch with your dreams? Is your dream recall limited to fragments that fade away as you hurry off into the business and traffic of the day? Relax. Here are some fun and easy ways to renew and refresh your relationship with your dreams…”

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Action This Day: A Dreamer’s Wish For the New Year

Robert Moss writes, “I have just received the best ever dreamer’s wish for the New Year. It comes from Virginie Pols, a wonderfully gifted dreamer, artist and teacher of Active Dreaming in Switzerland. She offers it in both French and English: Que cette année, nous soyons dignes de nos plus grands reves! This year, may we be worthy of our biggest dreams! I love this because it reminds us that dreams require action. If we do not take action to honor and embody our biggest dreams in our lives, they may fly away. To lose a big dream is a sad thing. It can even amount to losing a vital piece of our soul…”

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To a Boy Who Found Out It Wasn’t Santa Who Brought the Presents by Robert Moss

I remembered a conversation in which I suggested that the original Santa was a shaman of the Sami, a reindeer-herding people of Lapland, reputed to have the power to call up the winds and fly through the air, and that the reason his coat is red is that it was the flayed skin of a reindeer. I have seen Sami drums with images of a shaman flying through the three tiers of the shamanic cosmos on a sleigh pulled by reindeer. But while there is a rich ethnography on Sami shamanism, I could think of no source that would be suitable for a young boy. So I took on the assignment of writing my own version of the first Santa, addressed to a boy in danger of losing his belief in Christmas magic.

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