I returned late last night from a five day workshop led by Robert Moss called The Return of the Seer. I had read several of Robert’s books, and watched his DVD set The Way of the Dreamer, but I knew from my dreamwork experience that reading or watching doesn’t lead to the same level of understanding as doing.

As a confirmation that I was on the right path, my travels there went incredibly smoothly, including having my suitcase be the first off the plane in Hartford. Flying into Hartford, I noticed several red cars in the driveways below, and had the thought, “I’ll get a red rental car.” Never having had a red rental car, this was an unusual thought, but sure enough, it was red. It had my birth month and year on the license plate, too. The license plate came up at several discussions throughout the week and various people teased other interesting meanings from the combination of numbers and letters on it.

The week itself was full of deeper coincidences and surprising moments. The clincher, for me, came early in the week. In groups of four, we took turns being the focus of a”journey” conducted by the other three. These journeys were a kind of waking dream, which I found very similar to the experience of writing fiction: just watching what unfolded in my mind, not judging, but observing. In the second of the journeys, the three of us who were journeying had startlingly consistent visions. I reported mine second, so was able to hear what I had seen (and noted in my journal before anyone spoke) described by someone else. There were variations in what we saw, but the similarities outweighed the variations. The experience was very affirming for me, confirming that these journeys were more than “just” imagination, especially since what we saw resonated very clearly with the person we were journeying for. To my Raven Journey brother and sisters, I will be forever grateful for that gift. And of course, to Robert, for facilitating the experience with the heartbeat of his drum and the raven imagery.

In addition to those and other journeys, we practiced Lightning Dreamwork and participated in dream theater. What’s so striking about dreamwork retreats in general is how quickly and deeply the participants get to the core of what matters to them. I don’t know what most of my new friends do for a living in the waking world, but I know what moves them in their hearts. Such meetings are not luxuries, as one participant pointed out, but necessities. We need to find deeper connections with one another in this world.

The other great gift of the week was gaining a true understanding of how essential it is to believe and trust one’s own experience. It’s a good and useful thing to study with the teachers who have years of experience of their own, who can lead the way more surely than we might stumble across it by ourselves, but it’s crucial to experience the spiritual and numinous for oneself. As Jeremy Taylor often says, “I know this to be true, and it’s much too important for you to take my word for it.” Now I understand that more deeply than ever. Everyone’s experience of the dream world, whether sleeping dreams or waking dreams or shamanic journeys, is individual, and everyone must come to her or his own understanding of what that experience means.

I’m grateful to Robert and to all the participants of the workshop for helping me to deepen my understanding.

Watching Barack Obama’s speech at the DNC, I couldn’t help but slip into awe at the power of words, especially when delivered by a gifted orator. Thoughts carefully expressed, even complex thoughts, can persuade and inspire. My ten-year-old was as engrossed as I was in the speech, and discussed it with me afterward. Oh, to have a president who can use language so eloquently that he can communicate to children and adults. What a gift that would be for the United States and the world, to resort to words instead of guns when conflicts arise.

Rather than the President of Malapropism, we could have the President of Eloquence.

I was also struck by the power of words at an entirely different event in Denver earlier in August–the World Science Fiction Convention. I’d never been to this particular Con before, and was mildly disappointed not to see Klingons. There were plenty of folks in costume, but mostly it was just normally dressed people there to hear and meet their favorite authors and filmmakers. My favorite panel was the one with Lois McMaster Bujold, Patricia Wrede, and Lillian Stewart Carl, who discussed their long friendship and enduring writer’s circle. It never ceases to amaze me how writers love to support other writers with their enthusiasm and feedback. Here’s a tip of the hat to the Uff das, CLC, and The Wild Folk of the West, who have all kept me going even when words are hard to come by.