Dreamwork or dream interpretationDreamwork compared to dream interpretation is very personal.

You are best to not slack on giving your own personal dream understanding the utmost priority, versus giving over your discernment to another who is dream analyzing, especially when they are using the new dream software or dream dictionary.

It’s all in the dream understanding.  There are so many avenues in sacred dreamland.  And dreamland is sacred, a time to converse with our support system.  A time to visit our friends who we never are able to speak with, some who we no longer know where they are.  A time to visit those who crossed over.  To solve issues we face.  To explore our awareness of a coming change in life.

I am a dream intuitive and dream guide.  I also do my share of dreamwork traveling, another avenue altogether.  Always have done so.  I deal with the sacred dreamland and enough dreamwork to occupy me day and night.

I am Essa aka Thayne Hudson.  As a new age writer, I play with the words about ‘the breath that floats by odor from dreamland sent’ — the first line of James Russell Lowell’s poem which my dream psychic novel is based on.  I don’t want to smell the odor of cigarette smoke or lilac perfume or spray starch from a white shirt or anything that tells me I am not really alone when it seems I am.  God only gives us what we can handle, right.  Right.  And I don’t want ghosts or spirits to deal with, please.  I’ll just do the dreams.

Yes, like the woman in my novel, I do work the dreamland.  Sometimes it is tiring.  When I awaken I know I have been somewhere but cannot usually make a connection where I traveled.

What is dreamwork for one is not dreamwork for another.

Some of us do dreamwork in order to remember and fix a problem.  Others dreamwork because they are born to carry messages.  Still this all comes back to dream interpretation and perspective.  This is why I seldom like to really give a dream interpretation though I do share what I feel is best.

For me, I feel waves and flashes all day of the memories I cannot touch, they are so fleeting I cannot give the full dream memory a single world to evaluate.  And when I close my weary eyes at night the memory of the dream floods back like another life.  But the deal is I cannot attempt to remember.  I must simply float away with the dream from where I left off.  If I open my eyes or try to remember, the dream is gone again and I still have not one word to give it a face or place in the waking world.

Leaves me thinking of Demi More in Passion of Mind (2000) when she lives one life by day and when she sleeps her soul lives the other life.  There is no rest.  She does not know if there is a real life and a dream life, to her they are both real, very real.  At least she remembered her dreams.  Was she traveling or not?  I won’t ruin the movie, it is a must see if you are into metaphysical and new age and reincarnation romances, fiction or nonfiction, and soul mates and soul groups and parapsychology.  Takes one to know one.

I know I have traveled when asleep.  Traveled to sit in someone’s kitchen while their terminally ill husband tried something hopeful I told them about that might help their recovery because I was concerned about them, and I know I was there though I was asleep in my bed.  I have been asleep in my bed but traveled to bring a basket of offerings to a person on their deathbed.  Traveled to check on my family when concerned.  To visit loved ones when I could not see them again.  To find my daughter when she was gone from me.  Traveled to a soul mate who is living in a different dimension right now.

This is all dreamwork of a different meaning, the traveling to do for.

Time travel of one sort, I guess it is, and traveling is all a real part of our lives now, and perhaps always has been.  Some embrace and some do not want to know or enact the travel.  Just like I don’t want to smell the odor from dreamland sent, meaning the ghosts or spirits I cannot see.  And I don’t want to see them either, no I do not.

Hopefully not confusing —

Now to travel when asleep, that is not the same as the dream travel.   The travel when asleep dreamwork is like a little errand and then one comes back to the body.  The dream travel dreamwork is a story, a life, a job almost.  I must sleep to go to my job.  I must connect.  And the dreams are not always for me though they do help me grow spiritually.

Then there is the dreamwork that people want to do do offer themselves a greater spiritual perspective, to explore their souls, their soul contracts, their past lives, their present lives.

So I do a bit of the dream travel.  I also make a few connections by dream traveling when aspeel to help people who need some extra connection.  And I do a lot of the dreamwork guidance that helps people do their own dreamwork.  A dream counselor of sorts.  I usually find the people I work with would like to use my experience as a flower essence consultant too.  Flower essences help people tap into their dream work and dream understanding for their own dream interpretation.

And that is what I do.

I work with many clients who are terminally ill, and I work with people just exploring their lives to the fullest extent of their ability…. people facing life challenges with all avenues we are given spiritually, emotionally and physically.  I love my work.

When I finally gave into the dreamwork —

One day I realized I sometimes seemed to be connecting with the dreams and needs of other people… their answers for their concerns and puzzle pieces of life were being given – gifted – to me.  I was then able to connect their dreams with the answers.  I could help others in this way, simply because I just knew something I didn’t really know.  That is a dream intuitive, to just know.  Like a psychic.  Only a dream psychic.

Who were these people I was dreaming for then?  Were they part of my soul group, a widely diverse group?

I knew the person when they came to me.  I just knew.  The meaning of their dreams were apparent to me, I could if only I would interpret the dream though I prefer to guide them to answers or to assure them if that is what is needed.

My assurance is not just the ‘oh, it will all work out.’  Instead, I can tell them what they have going for them and tell them when I am given a piece of knowledge they do not need to continue to search for and they can rest.

I am in awe of the dreams and connections of others.  Their dreams are so beautifully astounding!

No, I don’t get that much rest.  I am awakened at all hours with the piece of someone’s puzzle.  But at least it is not a ghost or an odor from dreamland like my character faces in A Breath Floats By.  I’ll let her deal with those.  We all need to know what would happen if I were to smell the odor or feel the hair prickle on my neck.  I yell and order them out of my life.  Yes, I prefer the dream connection.

I asked myself, ‘Shouldn’t I just be a new age writer? Just play with concepts and words?  Be a holistic guide, a flower essence therapist?’  ‘Am I supposed to be doing this? Getting involved with other people on such an intimate level, spending so much of my time on the issues and challenges of other people?’  ‘Should I not be distanced from other people?’

Then when I was forty-something and literally nearly asleep, the question about dreamwork vs. dream interpretation was answered.

I am not overly involved.  I am doing this for other people.  Like a nurse is doing her work for others, a fireman, a policeman, a teacher, a social worker, a home builder, a designer, a cook, a wine maker, a real estate salesperson, a gardener, a farmer.  They give their days and nights willingly to help others, to do for them, to become intimately involved if only for a few minutes.  And I am able to do the same.

That was when I knew I was all right.  I finally opened the door to my dreamwork of helping others with their dreamwork.  I don’t give people all their answers.  I offer dream guidance for them to do dream work in their own dream understanding.   I decided to be hospitable.  To entertain through conversation, to open the door to what I had to offer and not hide in the back of the house.

I just decided to open the door.

It was not that I thought the people with the dreams were not all right.  I thought I was not all right.  I thought I was lacking in ability to offer a real value, I thought I was overly involved, that perhaps I was overstepping into their life and leaving something out of mine.

But this gift of understanding dreams, it is open to share and now I do.

Fear?

The dreaming woman in the reincarnation romance – new age novel, A Breath Floats By: An Illusion for the Soul….. she brings her dream intuitive gift to the 21st century and is asked to share her life with others, but she is afraid because she must often commune with spirits who have something to share.  She is frightened of the odor of dreamland sent – that is the second line of the poem by James Russell Lowell.  She is so terrified and she will not fulfill her sacred contract yet again.  It has cost her too many lifetimes of persecution and loss, horrifying circumstances that leave her quaking at the prospect of being ‘found guilty’ again.

Is this what I, as a writer, am afraid is a possibility for me?  To be found out by those who will judge or not accept me or even persecute me or torture me and kill my body?

I must admit I do have concerns and fears.  But I am in the new era, the more accepting, less fearful era now.  I can be open now, surround myself with the few who know and love me wholly.   I am okay.  What I am gifted to offer is all right, it is good.  Very good.  There were dreamers in the Bible.  Now that was dreamwork!

And I believe I have lived this before, over and over again.  And I am surrounded by those who support me.  Because…..

…..sometimes a breath floats by me, an odor from Dreamland sent, which makes the ghost seem nigh me of a something that came and went… of a life lived somewhere, I know not, in what diviner sphere.  A something too vague, could I name it, for others to know:  As though I had lived it and dreamed it, as though I had acted and schemed it long ago.

James Russell Lowell’s reincarnation story in the poem The Twilight is about those who supported him and longed for him.  The romance of life, the connections we are embraced with when we think we are alone and the person of our soul memory comes to speak to us in the sleeping dream.

Who whispers to you?  To me?  That is the romance of life.

What work do our dreams bring to our life?  What gifts do our dreams bring forward into our living and waking work?  That is the love of life.  God is love and in this we are kept connected.  Sacred dreamland.

Sacred dreamland brings forward stories we are to write, longings we are to search out.  That is the romance of life really.  The dreamwork.

I am a dream guide, a dream intuitive.

I do not believe in free dream interpretations.  Do not believe dream interpretations serve you best.  You need to open more fully to find your own answers.  You need to do the dreamwork for yourself.  I can guide you to do this if you are feeling sort of lost in your process.

I share my time and energy with you, you share yours with me through a payment of $50 for the first contacts to get your work started and $10 each one thereafter.

The flower essence consultations for dreamwork has a similar set price.  Please visit the site for more information.

These services I offer are more of a guidance and hope service.

  • I will work closely with you
  • listen to your dreamwork
  • guide you with suggestions to get closer to your own dream understanding, your personal dream interpretation
  • send you personal messages just written for you
  • articles I have written
  • suggest methods for finding your answers
  • tell you where I think you can make changes in touching your dreams in a closer reality
  • and I may have a dream message to share with you at some point.  We won’t bet on it, but I may already be waiting for you to bring your information to me because I have a piece of your puzzle.

That is dreamwork guidance.

My promise —

  • Whatever you share with me will not be analyzed by a dream analysis or dream interpretation software program.
  • Your conversation via email with me will be a person-to-person exploring of your dreamwork as I support you in many ways to find your answers.

Please email with your dream then and we shall see where it takes us. Whether you are using flower essences for your dreamwork or not, you can use the email contact on my flower essences website.

Once you email your dream I will send you the email link to send me the payment for the service I offer.  There is no set amount, whatever you choose to send will be accepted and we will begin.

If you would like to work through your dreams using flower essence therapy for dreamwork, please read more at that website, see below.

Thank you for considering.

Essa Adams

Please use the email contact at my flower essences website.  Thanks!

Flower Essences and Your Dreamwork

Dream psychic - dream book - metaphysical fiction

Dream psychic - dream book - metaphysical fiction

ESSA Books – Dream Psychic – Dream Book

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Omg – I love when the muse is rockin’ when i wake up in the morning and i have to kick it all out before i get to do anything at all. Especially after only three hours sleep. Loosens me up.

This is an original post for my women’s fiction short stories and essays blog – a blog that includes the lies we are told as women in the American culture, for the most part. But I have readers worldwide, so you tell me, do you get the same cruppie as we?toadstool1

You know the cruppie lies and misconceptions where we feel like we are gorgeous peaches then find out we are considered toadstools, poisonous mushrooms, somehow defective.

Did you hear the one about the peaches and oranges? I love Paulo Coelho’s mind and heart. He has many parables on his Amazon blog. See his book page for The Alchemist, scroll down to the blog.

Anyway, he told the one about the lovely fruit.

raspberries-ripe-fruitAn old man sold fruit on the side of the road, beautiful expensive fruit that he praised. He made a fine living enjoying selling peaches and oranges to travelers.

His educated son came from the city and said, father, don’t you realize times are tough and people cannot buy this expensive fruit now. The man was not able to read, so no, he had not known the economy was down. I guess no one was complaining.

He bought cheaper fruit, reduced his prices and promotional efforts, didn’t feel he could praise the new fruit. Times got tough for him too.

Ladies, I’ve got to bring it on home.

Did you hear the one about the plush girl who just reached puberty?  A budding young woman with clouds of curls, clear blue eyes, and sun-kissed cameo skin, treasuring a figure she moved gracefully.

She was fourteen years old and lived in the country. Her parents, grandparents, great-grandparents were all plush, soft people who worked hard on their hobby farm with organic gardens. plush girl farmShe sold fruit and vegetables to their community. They treasured their free time, went biking, canoeing, and played backgammon instead of owning a television. Seldom went to the city, then only museums or to visit plush city cousins. A saving grace… an American woodworking journal was their main magazine.

The plush girl’s cousin was one year younger. She visited every summer. This visit the cousin brought a one year subscription of an American teenager magazine. Three magazines from her friend’s older sister’s pile. And a magazine from the friend’s mother’s women issues collection.

They spent two weeks reading at bedtime – weight, body image, self acceptance, diet, food choices, health. Stop eating that junk or you will die of high cholesterol and diabetes, you must eat this and be thin to be safe from fat diseases. Fear-factors in health and mental disorders if one did not have self acceptance. Frizzy hair? Tame those curls. Are your legs too knobby or too fat – if so here is how to dress. Do you think your nose is too big, it’s never too big, love yourself. Do you worry you are different from other teens – just love yourself and embrace their differences too and if you are fat take the obesity challenge together and you will all be so much happier. Will he like you even when you look like that – if not here is how to convince him. If he does not like you don’t waste the cute just be the best you can and be yourself and be sure to be thin and move on. The ultimate question. The pretty, slender girl’s photograph over the hornet-target, confidence-zinger, self-doubt-builder caption, “Do you think you are fat?”

toadstool1And the plush girl wilted.

We know the ropes.

But I cannot in fair conscience leave the plush girl wilted.

After all, we have naïve young women in their teens reading this blog about the lies we are told. We must tell them the truth. Help me out with other scenarios. Your comments are safe, I moderate all comments on my blogs so the haters and fearful ones cannot sting you.

Scenario #1 Plush girl turned skinny/plush/skinny/extraplush/ almost skinny/extraextraplush as a woman. Struggled, fought, kicked, cried and screamed her self-hatred all the way up to three hundred pounds in every effort to chisel svelte from her plush body. Then she got mad. Quit dieting. Embraced her normal food desires, normal exercise of canoeing and biking, gardening and walking. She ended up at an extra-plush two hundred twenty-five pound. The extra fifty pounds she carried now are because she dieted, so it is pretty much a given that her metabolism is screwed for a few more years at least. Oh, and she gave birth to three lovely children so that usually changes everything, except for some women with those-kind-of-genes who remain svelte after birthing their third child twenty-two years ago.

Scenario #2 Someone told her that she was lovelier to them than any of the slender girls in the magazines. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. She bought it and lived happily ever after.

Scenario #3 Plush lush girl had the stamina of an ox and verve of a warrior goddess. She woke up the next morning with resolve that she would not allow these freaking insane publishers and writers change her life. She looked in the mirror and could see her nose was a little big, it matched her plush face just fine. Her knees were a little cushiony but they held up her lush body and made for sturdy walking and ladder climbing. bbw-bicyclingShe could dance the rump off a cow, canoe a wild river, bike up a mountain. Her frizzy hair, when spirited with H2O, regrouped into the halo of curls framing her round shoulders to give her the beauty and balance every portrait artist dreams they will paint.plush-girl-peachHer bosom was ripe like the fruit in the orchard… she read that somewhere in one of her plush great-grandfather’s poetry books.

Plush lush girl exhaled. Then she smiled at the truth in the mirror.

MIRRORS

From Paulo Coelho’s Blog: “Mirrors are the attribute of vanity, and represent the narcissistic solitude of the vain. On the other hand, they can also represent the knowledge of oneself, the truth of oneself.”

“Paulo Coelho is a firm believer of Internet as a new media and is the first Best-selling author to actively support online free distribution. See http://piratecoelho.wordpress.com .”

Essa Adams at Women’s Fiction Blog https://essaadams.wordpress.com supports the use of copy from this blog, just link it back to the blog. I am not a bestseller yet, need all the friends and link support you will give. Appreciated! Peace to you and yours.

bbw girl books300 Free Novels — Show me the connection and I will send you a free ebook, A Breath Floats By. Author Thayne Hudson. I am giving way 300 each month in 2009 to anyone who connects this blog to a promotional source like their Facebook, twitter, del.icio.us, myspace, RSS my Amazon.com blog to somewhere out there, and more. Go for it. Then show me where by using a comment. I moderate comments and remove the link so you stay anonymous. Want a free ebook? Link away.

I thought I was unacceptable then.

I thought I was unacceptable then.

Digging through photos, I found one of me when… Dang!  I looked pretty good. Follow the sequence of photos as I age, you will see what I mean. Young women, take it and run. Understand that we live in the shadow of Barbie. Don’t hide from the camera, no matter your size.

Allowing more photos to be taken of me is only one little resolution though. Being the self-starter, perfectionistic-type, it seems that a more influential plan is in rounding out this one intention with other important goals I know I will meet. And why not write them down? I’ll do them, I will. Really.
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Christmas kiss

Christmas kiss

2009 New Year Resolutions

Essa Adams a.k.a. Thayne Hudson

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  • More photos taken of me. Check out this progression over the years. I well remember how discontented I was when the photo was taken. Now I like the picture. If that’s my reaction at fifty-ish, what do I think I will be saying when I’m seventy-something?
  • Eat more soup, vegetables, salads. Honestly, my favorite foods.
  • Plant a winter garden on the sleeping porch tables and shelves in January. Use garden lights.
  • Have a load of horse and chicken manure dumped in my back yard. Top with soil and organic compost. In late-March, plant garden.
  • Read all my books on the Essenes.
  • Write A Walk-in Illusion during February-March in six weeks or less, then don’t look for several months.
  • Publish Forever, Moore in June 2009.

Do I have to have ten?

Earliest in series

Second in my aging series

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  • Dance every day. One song makes me happier.
  • Bicycle often.
  • Read two novels a month. Review, promote for other authors to reach their dreams. Believe the same will happen for me.

That’s ten. One more…

When I started to really hide from the camera.

When I started to really hide from the camera, eighteen years ago.

  • Spend more time with all the people and fur children I love. If not time, then be closer to them, call them, connect.

Eleven has always been a special number for me. So we have eleven.

Good luck with yours, if you are gullible enough to make any.

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The last photo is from four years ago. Though I look younger now, since then, since I was in my teens even, I have hidden behind the camera. But this is a new year. I may hold my granddaughter and pet skunks in front of me, but I will be seen and remembered.

We all want a glow of pleasure from our memories. Let’s not be encouraged us to hide in shame and humiliation of our appearance – to hide from the means for our families to also have those memories after we are gone. Let’s learn to make friends with the camera.

camera not my friend

Camera not my friend, can you tell? Seven years ago.

I wanted to burn this. Now I am okay.

I wanted to burn this. Now I'm okay, really.