Spring (Mid-May) Into Summer Dream Group Now Forming 

The dream is the small hidden door in the deepest and most intimate sanctum of the soul, which opens to that primeval cosmic night that was soul long before there was conscious ego and will be soul far beyond what a conscious ego could ever reach. 

—C.G. Jung

After a much needed haitus I have decided to "dream up" a Monday evening dream group to begin in mid-May (or as soon as we can once enough folks are on board) which can continue through the summer till August. Then come September, if folks desire, we can proceed into autumn and winter meetings. We only need about 4 or 5 folks (but welcome more!) to dream tend and see what insights, guidance and transformations may creatively resolve/arrive.

If you have an interest dreams and what and how one you more creatively work with them then please read further below a brief description I've shared with other dream groups, workshops, presentations in the past to give context, or contexts, from which I understand working with psyche and the dreams that come to us (including daydreams, fantasies, active imagination, symptoms-as-body-dreams). 

If you are interested in joining the group then contact me via email or give me a call at the phone number below. Leave a message on my answering machine with your contact info and convenient times to call you back and I will do so. Please speak clearly and slowly! and feel free to pass this notice along to others who may be interested. If you don't know what a dream group is (at least my proven to be dreamy version of dream group) then, again, feel free to contact me via Facebook message and we can chat there or, better, on the telephone. And, again, you can read a more formal announcement below this text for more detail and info about dreams and the group. Still, I'm happy to talk with you and anyone about dream work and how to use a dream group, etc. so give a call if you wish. Again, just private message me here on Facebook and we can chat further.

Meanwhile get yourself a notebook and start recording your dreams, dreams from childhood, recurring dreams, recent dreams. Dreams from the past are always current since dreams aren't like lettuce in the fridge which can go back quickly. Dreams "keep". They are not like veggies in the fridge that have a shelf life. Dreams from childhood, etc, keep on messaging us. 

I invite you to explore your dreams with dedicated others in a dream group which begins again mid-May, meeting every other Monday night from 6:30 to 8:30 pm. I ask for a commitment to regular attendance for 5 months since dream work is intimate and the group becomes an extension of that “intimate sanctum of the soul” which Jung describes in the quote above. The fee per session is $80. If one pays in advance at the beginning of each month of the bimonthly meetings then the fee for both is $160. The fee reserves your space in the group and is not refundable if one misses a meeting. If you must miss a session then I provide a private dream consult for you either by phone or in my office so that the work continues. Also, if one wants a private consultation about a dream then that can be arranged for in-house or phone session.

In each group session we will discus at least 3 dreams of 3 participants with ample room for discussion, associations, interpretations and teaching regarding dreams and the unconscious. The only requirements for participation are commitment, curiosity, humor, and compassion. A healthy sense of humor and irreverence is also encouraged! 

Oh, did I say practical? Not yet, yet foremost is how to apply our dreams, what they convey to us, in the immediacy of our lives, in practical ways in waking life.  Goes without saying that dreams will come in response to paying attention to them that further guide as one proceeds in waking life.  

SO - see what you dream tonight after reading this and be sure to write it down (some folks record their dreams into their Iphones or other recording devices).

The group will meet in the East Village area of Manhattan, subway nearby, in the early evening (not too late) for 2 hours. Bring your supper or a snack or, sometimes, and some folks will head out for a meal together post-dream group.  

Looking forward,

Warren Falcon 
falconwarren@gmail.com

A bit about dreams and dream tending

A dream that is not understood remains a mere occurrence; understood it becomes a living experience. — C.G. Jung

Each dreamer has a profound connection to Psyche-As-Source in this “most intimate sanctum of the soul”. Since the dawn of human consciousness dream work and awareness has been and remains to be an essential "spiritual practice" where on cultivates aspects of self which remain hidden to conscious ego. C.G. Jung confirmed that dreams are a direct connection to this Sanctum - a sacred or holy place and Source which is the Collective Unconsciouswhich can be related to in helpful ways affecting both inner and outer life in transformative, creative ways. 

Jung also found dreams to be progressive, meaning that they appear to be goal oriented toward further development of ongoing consciousness, that consciousness itself is not static, fixed, but ever changing, evolving greater meaning out of the personal and collective past presenting in the present and on into the future. Dream work enables the dreamer to more skillfully discover and cultivate their own greater connection to themselves, others and the Psyche. Jung felt that if enough people do their own inner work and develop their own relationship to the Unconscious via dreams (and creative ways of working with them) this will have a salutary affect not only upon ourselves but also upon the culture at large. The work is not easy, is certainly disruptive to routine and habitual selves, lives, groups and customs, thus it requires tenacity, patience, humor, compassion as well as a willingness to show up to what is being presented from "dream central" which requires response, interaction and action both internally and externally. Psyche insists itself within, upon and around us “by any means necessary” thus the creative need to turn toward this vibrant, alive, electric force and source ever present in our lives and dream the dream onward.

In this group I will guide from a mainly Jungian perspective while bringing other approaches to bear (from Gestalt to shamanism, psychoanalytical, archetypal and others) which can enhance relationship to that which dreams us, dreaming in and through us. Each group member will offer their queries and insights to the dreamer sharing a dream. I will suggest and encourage readings (not required) which may advance your understanding of dreams, how they relate to our lives spiritually and practically as we dream the dream on into waking consciousness leading to personal growth, creative expression and the humble empowerment of daily life. 

In advance of the group beginning mid-May feel free to email  me at my email address above. Please write "May Dream Group" in the subject line. You may also call me at 212-677-6712. I am also available to lead other dream groups in the day and some nights. I am willing to travel in and around the NYC area for such groups. If there are at least 4 people who are interested in a dream group on another day or evening then let's talk about it. I am also available for individual private sessions on dreams.

Also, if we are friends on Facebook you may private message me there…please write May Dream Group. at the top of the message and then give me your contact information.

About Warren Falcon

"A river is a process through time, and

 the river stages are its momentary parts."

—Willard Van Orman Quine

I rewrite Quine's quote here by changing one word which, I believe, says what dreams do for the dreamer who pays attention to them, they identify and reorient one in and through moment to momentary parts lived, they reveal and readjust the momentum of lived lives and can indicate direction one is heading toward — take heed.

"A dream is a process through time, and

the dream stages are its momentary parts."

Warren Falcon is a Jungian oriented counselor in NYC who also teach workshops & ongoing classes. He is one of the founders & faculty of the Learning For Life Group in NYC, a teaching & training organization dedicated to building competent, conversant, theoretical, practical, technical & Imaginal bridges between healing traditions, old & new.>With compassion, curiosity, crazy humor, constancy & courage healing work unfolds hidden dimensions of self seeking integration into conscious personality taking "places at table" & contributing to the ongoing works in progress that we are. Not about perfectionism the work is, rather, about Wholeness, that Inclusivity which does not shut out any part of ourselves inviting even rejected parts to be present, compassionately, curiously worked with & understood as vital sources needed for creative living.> Dream work, as old as when humans first began sharing them with others, is a wellspring available to all, re-Sourcing us as we move toward vibrant, authentic maturity. Jungian & other approaches, insights & techniques are utilized when working dreams with others. Private dream work & bi-monthly dream groups are available.

Here is a radio show where I was invited by Slow Medicine Doctor Michael Finkelstein on the topic of "Dreams of Your Health," It may be a good introduction to who I am, what I do, how I work (generally) with dreams in various contexts of healing. Gratitude to Dr. Finkelstein, a great dreamer, for this opportunity to talk about dreams and working with them:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFG7_R5Gq_E&t=2125s

**

Note: All photos are by me, Warren Falcon.  Copyrights are mine alone.  Ask me for permission to use a photo, thanks.

A personal altar from times past:

A Storehouse Of Treasures Opens By Itself - A Thanksgiving Day Reverie And Homage To John Tarrant

NOTE:  This essay was originally published November 23, 2017.  

All photos but for the two Asian ink paintings are by Warren Falcon. 

NOTE 3/29/2018:  

Happy to say that I was misinformed (my mistake) that John Tarrant, zen master and writer, had died in 2010.  He is alive and kicking zen rocks up and down zen non-hills still.  

I will just let this essay stand (or sit) as is

as the grackle 

wrestles with 

the tree top

These pentitential psalms of David play while snow flurries out over the creek steeply below the  crest this house rest upon; spruce trees sift and sort out just which large bird of many will try their tip tops to rest upon...grackles, and, yesterday, an enormous eagle regally perched in stillness as the top limbs, thinner being uppermos, bent from feather weight and still, a day after the grackle's heft, gently sways as the arbol job description says. Zen's a job, too, efforts needed yet

No need to watch the breath here in Keene.
What is seen is enough to nestle one inside and out.
Cold feet. Too ensconced to move and search - sort for socks.
Upstairs a toilet flushes. Two year old feet clumsily thump
as Psalmist David laments, 

"As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. . . My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, Where is thy God?"

Meanwhile roasting turkey aroma brooks no other scent though spruce and fir try while sage cornbread dressing also wafts downstairs where I sit zafu-ed beside a large plate glass door, me waking up, espresso cup full and steaming, taking in what is seen. And heard. Then, as instructed between sips, let them go - "se fue" ("they went away" or "got gone" in Spanish) - or they clumped up in scores of spider webs....seems this dark, cool ground floor space is residence for spiders all kinds and is thusly webby.  One massive web complex stretched over the entire  toilet bowl upon my first arrival to the ground floor apartment.  Creepy.  Amazing. Wilderness living, indeed.

Afternoon. At the desk now, pondering this offering from John Tarrant, Western zen teacher and Jungian analyst who, sad to say, I discover online just this morning, passed in 2010 and, I am surprised to read, had been living in Jersey City just a Hudson River away from my East Village perch. Had I known he was so close by I would have gladly trekked over bridge and river to sit with him. 

I discovered Tarrant years ago via an anthology of American Buddhist poetry,Beneath A Single Moon (click here) and fell madly in love with his poem, Poem To Be Recited While Banishing Loneliness where I instantly memorized the phrase, "he does not shut out any part of himself." This is the essense of Jungian psychology, Jung's notion, or more-than-notion but arrival again and again to an authentic experience of wholeness (what I experience as hold-ness) which includes everthing (natch) and does not exclude or shut out or prefer/value one quality over another. Conscious wholeness, conscious being the operative word, is what Jung means as does Tarrant's line and poem entire:

Spell To Be Recited For Banishing Loneliness by John Tarrant

Like a good Zen student Mephistopheles
says "Myself am hell."
So all the old accounts are mistaken.
We need to translate,
the meanings are turned around:
for his screams, read "delight,"
and for the tortures he undergoes,
read "he does not shut out
any part of himself."

I make a flower arrangement
of frangipani like a froth of stars
and a black eucalypt twig.
I don't care why I am lonely;
it's the taste of copper dust and the ringing of hammers,
the feeling of being so huge
that I don't know what's inside.

For despair, read
"when I stare and stare at a flower
it's bigger than me,"
and for grief, read
"the gentleness of my hands brings out of things
the light that is inside them."

So the grackle wrestles with the tree top rocking as I do in my rocker where I sit with fullness and grief knowing that a remote teacher has been dead 7 years and I had often enough entertained sitting with Tarrant and perhaps find some help with my own wresting a poem, my life's too big to wrestle with, the mind not withstanding, into some good-enough resonant holding/beholding (my frozen fingers just typed "begolding" - thank you Mr. Tarrant).

This koan comes to me from Tarrant now, fitting for the present view through the glass, a black cat named Shadow now at my feet, news of Tarrant taking off "the tight shoe of the body" seven years now and now the word 'year'means nothing at all and while I sit watching, the world is shaking off its dusty robe. And will continue to do so. year by year depending on what the Alloter has in store till kaput, no more. But shake my dusty throw (flung a la Sartre) self I did while I slept with cold feet and nose tip, the room being frigid in spite of a heater hissing away, its blue flame, and gold too, somehow burns without any motion that I can see, my eyes trying to catch some fire to warm from the outside in. Evenso, in spite of discomfort up here in winter mountain frigid's the thing, reminds me that I am heavily, ecstatically (a rare event in older age) alive.

Having lived in a giant city for half my life now I wouldn't exchange my freezing toes and nose, these flannel sheets, red red, for all the miracle of its urban bridges (webs, too, of metal sorts and spans) with its parks allowing some green space enough to hint of the island's aeons of it, green, while a resident, one of many, mourning dove on my fire escape wakes me to receive the noise of the all too human world mugged by machines and machinations, odd treasures that they are, or can be, or that we must alchemize then into. The dove doesn't care where I am, there or here (which I prefer) beneath mountain steeps....but breath by breath and scatter shot thoughts I'll lend homage to Tarrant and that wake up event suggested by the word and name Buddha.

From John Tarrant a fitting koan for Thanksgiving day:

The storehouse of
treasures opens by 

itself. 

You can take them,
you can use them,
anyway you wish. 

For now, lightning is a good story.

by Juan Bosco, Spain

I look up just in time

to see a black wing 

disappear behind a stand of spruce. 

What eyes and wings are for.

Impromptu "Ku" Torrents for Tarrant

Give this looking back a rest

so fall into

purple fields

edged by sheer snow peaks 

where sheep sure-feet know

no fear of heights and there 

do dung and play fearless 

or at least pretend not to fall 

in their waking dream which 

is the thing -

concavity curves

in a dead hatchling's

sparkless eye reflecting

dead eggs' perfect

forms soft brooded

upon as one might

brood one in hand

pondering which is

the better off the

flown lone one or

the ongoing nest

knot which can also

denote an egg -

hatched or not or

clotted everyly or

otherwise

is all

surmise 

who knows

what is the thing

joy's winged

malingerers

rise in sudden

annunciate thunder

As one elderly old bird once said

my being newly fledged/ flung,

me at her knobby wither-knees

admiring her mustache and tooth,

told me. she, to observe and note

1 or 3 do re mi's or more like the,

or to better the, feathered choirs

so try at least to sing

Chirp Caw Crow or Cackle,

break for Grackles, their cousins

black, cross-eyeds seers blear

in all day's array never blink they

say and say and say tho mystery

stays which is a thin

or so hints I Ching 31 (from cafe au soul dot com)

Line 1: Influenced in the big toe = a goal without movement

Line 2: Influenced in the calves, misfortune = better to wait.

Line 3: Influenced in the thigh, humiliation = do not seek low hanging fruit

Line 4: Wishes come true, perseverance brings good fortune = companions

recognize your dream

Line 5: Influenced in the back = no remorse

Line 6: Influence in the jaws, cheeks and tongue = superficial talk

To activate the power of Te, do not negate the mind, but do not allow it to keep

you its prisoner. Being natural and spontaneously yourself, you are always

wooing experience because it will always reflect the condition of your inner

world...

Lieh Tzu was trained by Lao Shang:  For three years, my mind did not

reflect upon right or wrong and my lips did not speak of gain or loss. During this

time, my master bestowed only one glance upon me. After five years, a change

took place, and my mind did reflect on right and wrong; my lips spoke of gain

and loss. For the first time, my master relaxed his countenance and smiled. After

seven years, I let my mind reflect on whatever it would, but it no longer occupied

itself with right or wrong. I let my lips utter whatsoever they pleased, but they

no longer spoke of gain or loss. Then, at last, my master invited me to sit on the

mat beside him. After nine years, my mind gave free reign to its reflections; my

mouth gave free reign to its speech. Of right, wrong, gain or loss, I had no

knowledge. Internal and external were blended in unity. I was wholly unaware of

what my body was resting upon. I was born this way, like leaves falling from a

tree and playing on the wind. In fact, I knew not whether the wind was riding on

me, or whether I was riding on the wind"

'"Grief-muscles" - Charles Darwin

A decade ago, now a stacked deck. decades times seven plus, was in the

Adirondacks, wood stove flue over my left shoulder, the valleys of the

deepening labial folds, dark ink blotting the corners of my mouth, 'goin' south',

or, rather 'west' 'where the fence commences', me gazing 'at the moon till I lose

my senses'. But never the ever-present raver's edge, er, I mean razor's edge.

Was/were my zennish days more or less or not at all, my NOW AND ZEN SOME

days, my zen teacher a proponent of Wrecking Ball Zen which explains the

glazed right eye and the intense left, bereft of self or no-self as the zen language

games go, brilliantly so, sweetens obscurity, blurs meanings edges through

which one can fall into hopeful (bad, bad, no hope no hope screams sensei)

satori, or better, 'what not'. 

From the journal then, rather, yearnal, 

in, rather, urinal - aka pissed zen, patience wearing thin, hair too, gale blowing

from peaks into valley, the comb over undone, T. S. Eliot's gin breathed growling

in the noggin',

"'I grow old. I grow old. I shall wear the bottoms my trousers rolled"

Zen made/makes one, me, somewhat preponderant, or it's just inherently

irreverent me, or, is it just me, if so then

"me who? " - cue zen yodeler in my head, 

warbling "YODEL LAY HE WHOOOOOOO????"

(((((         echoes         re-verbs         )))))

off Three Sisters Mounts looming over

my right shoulder just out the plate-glass door. the Sisters, not my shoulder

(nadda yogini) 

ENTRY - Day 13:

Sensei tells me: 

It's undertow that matters.

I am stumped.

One adjusts. Continually.

The persona is adaptation

appearing to be solid but sleep reveals the neutrality

of the animal.

Dreams tell us otherwise

when we remember them as it takes an ego to witness,

to remember.

They reveal that we are

caught up into something so much greater than

flush and stir.

It's a wonder we make do

as much as we do and still

call ourselves by name, a

species of animal,

homo sapiens.

I regret self pity.

I'd reject it if I could but it adheres,

last resort of old coots born honestly

into it no matter the copious Mercurochrome 

baths, the smelling salts obviating the needed nipple.

The stippled trout I nightly catch,

pink insides turned out by blue

blade kept beneath the pillow

baits me with the riddle

again and again -

Something about a stand of trees,

a man carving some bark,

what breath is for.

Today the Market reports a run on Mercurochrome.

Birth goes on.

I am for rebirth.

A dirth of days makes me suddenly Hindu

foregoing gurus and bindu point.

I've made my own here,

one foot well into 'Cracked and Crank',

the drunk tank a memory

worn out.

Doubt is my companion.

Love, too.

No remorse here.

Buys me time, aftershave, and

loads of underwear for the trickles ahead.

Thank the gods for all that.

Oh. And one last good cigar.

Post Script:

I'm switching to

Groucho Marx Zen viz:

YOU SAID TH' WOID

YOU GOT TH' VOID

Indubitably

Its self 

beyond Christmas

and yet and yet

the kneeling boy
in the evergreen

the shattered orn-
aments ever gleam

the needles' net
a permanence enough

gold-leafed & trumpeting

**