It was a hot New York City summer. I was living in a tiny little box of a place while I studied at the Martha Graham School of Contemporary Dance. I didn’t live close to the school, but I still walked everyday to save myself money and soak up everything New York had to offer. On my way home, I usually wandered through Central Park or went to a museum. I was growing, filled with art and music and of course all of the wonderful ideas of Martha Graham (she had just died, but her spirit was alive and well).
I didn’t go back to my little room until after the sun went down when I knew it would be cooler. I stretched on top of the covers, my body all used up from a day of dancing and walking, and read Joseph Campbell. I fell asleep happy and exhausted.
One night, I had a dream that a red headed goddess came up to me in Central Park and asked if I would like to see what is behind the Collective Unconscious. Yes! Of course I did!
She pulled back a curtain, and off we went into the back of a theater. It was full of pictures, movement, words, entire stories. A world that connected every idea together. The red haired goddess turned to me.
“Now go write it down,” she said.
I pulled myself from sleep and fumbled in the dark room for my notebook and pen.
“Write it down. Write it down. Write it down.” I said to myself. I scratched away on to the paper, barely awake, my eyes still closed. I shut my notebook, dropped my pen and fell back into bed.
When I woke in the morning, I couldn’t remember the details of my dream, but I did remember what the red haired goddess had said to me. I rushed to my desk and flipped through my notebook. What great work of genius had been handed to me while I slept? I turned the page, and there it was, right in front of me, penned in my very own hand….
“Write it down.”
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