March 22, 2008

Mount Hermon: Another Dream Something about writers conferences sets me up for interpretive dreaming. Call it what you will--bad sushi (which, BTW, I never eat!), fatigue, an over-active imagination. I choose to attribute such mind-bending experiences to the workings of the Holy Spirit. My first night at Mount Hermon I had another of those “message dreams.” Over the previous few weeks I’d grown more and more anxious about the conference, worrying about my pitches, proposals, and prospective appointments. Thursday arrivals had the chance to attend a pitching workshop, which only left me more stressed about snagging the editors and agents I most wanted to meet with. Then that night, the dream. I was at something like an archery range, only for slingshots. The instructor (who looked suspiciously like the pitching workshop presenter) told me to shoot at a square target at the far end of the range. I took careful aim, the center of the square directly in my sights. When I let my shot fly, it went straight for the target. I was certain I couldn’t miss. But just a few yards shy of the square, the projectile turned into a butterfly and flew away, missing the target completely. I was stunned and confused. Hadn’t I done everything right? Hadn’t I carefully controlled my aim and release? The instructor said to try again, this time working so hard at aiming but simply going on faith. So, completely relaxed, I raised my slingshot and let the dart fly. At first I couldn’t see how...


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