In a night of exchange with some friends about entanglement and the generality and particularities of universal experience in the language of science, I rolled a few leaves of sambong (local sage) for smudging as it felt right to clean a friend’s external energetic field by releasing negative ions around him after sharing his recent journey during the super new moon. The sound of last night’s heavy rains aided in this cleansing, as well as the smell of the earth breathing out the day’s heat. I tied the herb with thin abaca strings from the dried lei of camia I bought a few days back.
Like any ritualistic act, the one who does the cleansing and the one being cleansed are inseparable. Both subjects partake in observance as the space is shared in communion and unity – the one overseeing the cleansing is also being cleansed. After swirling the herb to my friend’s head, chest, back and limbs I put the rest in the corner of the room to fill the space with smoke. I swept the ashes and disposed them in our small garden, leaving them on the soil, back into the earth, as a kind of respect.
And so to its attainment, the sambong late that night relaxed all my dimensional fields and really put me in deep sleep. I dreamt, not very vividly, but strong enough to wake me up in tears. In the dream I saw myself in our old house in San Pablo with another girl who felt like a good old friend. She didn’t have a name, and the features of her face were undefined. I was being chased by the authorities. A silver car and an armored van smashed down our gates but before anyone of them were able to go down their automobiles, me and my unfamiliarly familiar friend had already sneaked and ran away. In my dream I was thinking of either going to La Trinidad or Palawan, but as I was strategizing our escape, my unfamiliarly familiar friend stopped to talk to a shadow person (who felt like a man) a few blocks away from my house. I waited for her a bit, but as I felt that the shadow was actually part of the authorities (a kind of military intelligence, a spy) who was distracting us from where we were unknowingly headed, I immediately ran towards her and pulled her close to run with me. We ran fast, long and tiring. And as I was running I felt my heart thumping hard, then I started crying. I abruptly woke up in tears with my chest carrying the weight of the Realm of Symbols.
And so as I breathe deeply upon waking, I know in my heart that the panic, terror and fright I experienced in my dream wasn’t just my personal panic, terror and fright. It is the kind of panic, terror and fright that the rest of our brothers and sisters in Marawi are also experiencing as we silently sleep in our little humble homes. In the dream world we all meet in equal presence, and I was able to tap into the collective mind driven by the mutual unconscious we all share. The self was a mere vessel, a cask of an experiential process that of which is me and beyond me.
I feel so very deeply, this national and global obstruction of information in the series of aerial bombings, psychological and geographic displacements, and unwarranted arrests happening in Mindanao and the rest of the world. So what is it that fuels this strong desire to control and hold things down to its inert state? In the universal capitulary, it has always been the modern capital-forming human laws that are truly athwart to natural laws.
So before I fell asleep after smudging, I was once again reading Jung as an exercise of looking back to better see forward. And so this aligned occurrence of re-view was not only supported by my conscious mind. Only this morning that I realized that my subconscious and unconscious minds were both allowing and equipping me last night with the tools to decode the dream I was about to experience. And as I type these words I am kept still, existing only in breath, marveling at how beautiful our minds work when we are aware. I reckon: we sleep so we can be awake.