Further down this new road, coming to a place . . .

Boulder Cafe, Courtesy Google Street View.

14th St and Pearl, Courtesy Google Street View. 

. . .I never thought I'd be, or could dream of as a possibility.

We're going to go back now, twenty years ago, to the Pearl Street Mall in what was then jokingly refered to as the People's Republic Of Boulder [PRB].  I was newish to Colorado, having moved there recently because I knew in '89 when there on a business trip that I had to move there.




Colorado was as different from the East as Boulder was from Denver in many ways, and it was a bit of culture shock.

I'd left a successful career in the east searching for someone I knew in '89 I felt I would meet in Colorado, the woman I'd spend the rest of my life with. Crossing into Colorado in the truck with all my stuff, singing "Rocky Mountain High" at the top of my lungs never once dreaming I'd be where I am right now.

So Pearl Street Mall in the PRB, that was a big adjustment for me. People laid back, mellow, healthy, going about their lives in one big blur of Zen.  For those who've not been there, Pearl Street Mall is a big outdoor party kind of mall.  Places to eat, read, drink whatever pleased you from coffee to smoothies with wheat grass, to shop, to sit in the sun.  There were, are, more healthy places to shop, to play, to be in that short strip of laid back in that small part of Boulder than was to be believed.  REI, Yoga places, cyclists everywhere, and this almost over powering laid back feeling of what I can only describe now as Zen.  People right out in public, sitting on yoga mats, meditating and no one paying them any mind. Except for me. I was amazed, mesmerized even.

I was fresh off Wall Street, no color in my life, clothing, being.  I was one of those plastic people that New York City turns out in massive quantities.  Standing there in my "uniform" labeled me as not just from outside the PRB, but an alien.  And it's that alieness that so didn't fit in this space of artists, hikers, climbers, cyclists, yogis, Buddhists, HEALTHY people everywhere.  People buzzing about, coming down off the flatirons on bikes, gathering at a cafe.  A woman in active wear, with a yoga mat and bag, flying by on a bike, heading to yoga class with a healthy smoothie in her bottle holder.  The calm, meditative, pure zen was as alien to me as I to it.  Yes, years of meditation practice was mine, still a place I retreated to, but not where, or how I lived. I was still doing then, while once in a while retreating to being.

A dear friend and sister who isn't speaking to me now for reasons her own described the differences between us this way at one point: "She practices the art of movement, I the art of stillness."  It was a pretty apt description at the time.  And it really highlighted why I didn't fit in the PRB.  I was, when I wasn't meditating, constantly DOING something.  And that was why I didn't fit in Boulder, and I think upon reflection why most of the world, let alone the Denver Metro Area, didn't really understand Boulder.  It was, is, a center of BEING, not doing.  It was like my sister, stillness in a world of movement.  I no more belonged there than most of the people who jokingly call it the People's Republic Of Boulder.

The problem was even then it spoke to my heart.  I could feel, if I allowed myself to, the deep longing to BE.  That woman on her way to yoga with her smoothie?  I could feel the calm, still, center of peace even as she was moving.  She was everything I wasn't but deep inside wanted to be.  Deep, deep somewhere inside I knew I needed to be.  At that point in my life I was certain that wasn't ever going to be possible.

Now 20 some years later, I find myself stunned and grateful.  Two years ago I got back on a bike after having been off one for decades. With diagnosis and proper treatment of an annoying and problematic birth defect I'm getting more sleep than I ever have, and I'm finding out what I'd chalked up to "getting old" for the last 20 years years or more wasn't. It was that my body has never really worked correctly. So I'm doing more, exploring more, pushing myself a little more.  Healing, growing, getting to know me.

It started with being able to get off the floor without help.  Something I'd not been able to do for years.  Then I noticed I could go up and down stairs without holding onto anything.  Yeah, I know now, pathetic.  Then by accident, I found Tara Stiles on You Tube and one of her simple, basic easy beginner's yoga routines.  So of course since I could once again get onto and off the floor with out help, what did I do?  I dug out the yoga mat I've had for years that I use for meditation. And I started trying these routines.  Why? Because Tara Stiles reminds me of Nat Sullivan from Debora Geary's Modern Witch series of books.

So let's see if we got that straight. She can get off the floor, go up and down stairs, and found a video that reminds her of a fictional character in a book?  Right.  A bit crazy? Maybe not.  My doctor joked "Oh sure, it makes perfect sense, now that you can get off the floor without help you start yoga? Most people would fall in love with their coach and not get back on the floor again."

I'm still riding, and I've working now on running too. On September 1st I ran in my first official chip timed 5k race and finished in under an hour.  Not quiet running per say, but it depends on who you ask.  I'm working on getting my times down, but that's not really what I'm here to talk about.

So I'm doing Yoga these days, walking, jogging, and my meditation practice has grown.  In January I got my first tattoo, which I talked about then, but recently it came to me, that that woman in Boulder all those years ago?  I am her. Now.  Where once my closet held only white button downs, black, blue, and grey business slacks and the uptight black shoes to go with those outfits, I think I own maybe two button down blouses now.  My closet looks like a rainbow exploded now on the best of days, and having lost 78 pounds since Janurary, I've been buying bits of new clothing, off the rack, in places like Target.  And you know, where once I'd have had a nearly identical white button down blouse for every day of the week, I have an explosion of active wear, for cycling, running, yoga and just being. Where in that day so long ago in Boulder I'd not have thought of having my legs exposed, even in the summer, now skirts, shorts, and skorts above the knee show off the results of exercise and genetics.  I'm my mother's daughter, and I have her legs.

And that woman I could only dream of being all those years ago in Boulder?  Well she's the woman I see in the mirror these days.  This new road has led me to a place that deep in my heart I've always wanted to be, but never dreamed could be real.  I am truly blessed, coming to a place I never should have left in the first place.

A short trip in the way back machine . . .

January 4th, 2013 started as a day of running around, getting things done, including my first ever visit to Chipotle then coming home and dropping onto my bed to regroup.  It was 1923 hours and I was mentally wrestling with going back out to a local group meeting for Ham Radio operators, something from my past I've started toying with a bit. My heart however really wasn't in it.  The meeting was supposed to start at a location not terribly far from my house, I could have made it there had I left right then. But I was also considering going to bed really early and leaving the day behind me. I was just exhausted.  So I'm having the conversation with myself about going to the meeting, or going to bed when I had one of those moments of Satori.

Satori is the Zen concept of a moment of pure enlightenment, Nirvana if you will, or more commonly complete clarity and then you go back to whatever life was before you had that moment.  The thing about Satori is that like trauma, it changes you the instant it happens, and going back to what you were working on is often (but not always) rendered pointless.  This was one such moment.

Now we go even further back in the way back to 2003, a decade ago, when another such moment changed the course of my life forever.  I undertook some hypnotherapy to help me survive really hard times.  My husband had just had his first two heart attacks and my brother Jon had just died.  I was a complete mess, and wasn't really certain how I was going to survive the coming storm, or if I was even going to survive it.  Thus the hypnotherapy.  The law of unintended consequences basically says that do all the right things, for all the right reasons, and things will happen you could never have planned for or imagined.

That point in 2003 was like that.  In another moment of perfect clarity I saw a path split, one let to a happy, healthy, related tenth wedding anniversary three short years later, or to another funeral I couldn't afford to deal with emotionally.  My husband had the choice, take some decent healthy steps toward change and be around for our tenth, or take the other road and be dead before that point.

Regrettably 2006 came and left me a battered, abused, terrified widow fighting my own health issues and living in fear of my in-laws who BLAMED ME for my husband's death and served only to reinforce my Cassandra complex.  You know, Cassandra, the mythic figure from Greek history? She predicted the future, no believed her, and then she was cast out?  Anyway, by then I was already fighting hard to save my own life, and survive without knowing when, if, where, or even if I would land.  During that time, I developed a fascination with many things and had been toying with getting an Om tattoo on my wrist.  Over the years between then and Jan 4th, I'd inked myself using pens, markers, and even henna to see how it felt, and to see if I could stand the thought of living with it for the rest of my life.

Several times I self inked, each time changes came, each time served to reinforce the concept of having this a part of me forever.  Still I waffled, and eventually had stopped thinking about it because one of the places I talked to said it would be at least $100 dollars for the small bit of ink I wanted and they'd never heard of it.  The Om they said I'd have to bring them a drawing.  That was three or four years ago?  So I hadn't really given it much thought.

There is however energy, magic even, in symbolism, and one of the many, many reasons I'd considered getting the Om was a demarcation between my old life, and my new life.  Of course that would first require getting said new life first, and the criteria for that, included a bunch of health related issues I shall not bore you with.

Getting back to the Friday of the 4th however, there I was trying to decide to go out an socialize, or go to bed early.  Which is of course when a sudden flash of perfect clarity left me with the NEED to get that tattoo inked where I wanted it, right now.  That Friday night.  I suddenly felt refreshed, invigorated, ready, certain, and knowing intuitively that it wasn't going to cost what the first place claimed, but that even if it did, I NEEDED to do this now, that night.  I had to find a female artist in a decent place, to trust with the task of forever changing my body irreversibly, and I had to do it then.  Some time with my web browser, and few phone calls, including the place I'd been too years ago that said it was going to be $100 dollars, and I remembered driving past another place years ago that the name stuck with me because I thought it was funny.  Acme Body Art.  You know the place where while they work to ink you, Wylie Coyote drops a safe on you? Even my brother when I told him the name of the place said about the same thing.  But I thought I'd give them a call, see if they were still open, and if they had any female artists on staff.

Amber put me right at ease, answered my questions, and I speak more about her in my review both on Yelp, and here on my blog.

It was quite a change for me to leave the house on a Friday night, let alone head downtown, not to mention finding parking right across the street.  It was an amazing experience, and one I simply knew I had to do that night. I had no idea what it all meant, but it was an intuitive flash that left me knowing it was time, right then.  And I made it happen.  The money, time, and certainty in my heart and soul that this was not only something I could live with for the rest of my life, but needed to live with.

Tonight, it's exactly a two weeks later, and the blush so to speak has not left. It "healed" if that's the word for it, astonishingly quick, it didn't hurt at all when I had it done, hasn't hurt since then, and at most felt like I'd gotten a bit to much sun.  Now it doesn't even feel like that.  Just smooth, black skin that was once flesh colored.  I'm still so thrilled I finally did it.  It's in part, representative of my new life, and all the positive changes going on.  It's a reminder of then, and what not to do again, and it syncs me in with the universe better, as the Om is the fundamental frequency of this universe.  My home universe.  Or at least the one I'm living in now.  It's everything, past, present, future, now, all in one place.  It's full of deep meaning.  And it's something, almost a precious bit of jewelry I don't have to worry about losing. Ever.  No matter what happens for the rest of my life, that Om is going to be right there with me.

I've noticed over the last two weeks of living with it, I'm often seeing it out of the corner of my eye, and it helps remind me to stop, breath, and be.  The day after my tat went on, I'm once again at Chipotle eating my burrito and I enjoyed it even more, because I was reminded to be still, mindful as I eat, to savor the blessing of good food.  After years of avoiding Chipotle because of hype, I wanted something different that Friday and thought, okay, I'll try it. I am ever so glad I did.  The food is wonderful and they are a deeply "green" company mindful of such concepts of sustainability and organics.  It's good food, it tastes good, is good for you, and it's all done with sustainability and green culture in fact, not in name only.  They buy, whenever and wherever possible from local suppliers, use only meat grown to their exacting, organic, humane, free range/natural feed, specifications and pay farmers a premium for it, on purpose.  Because they only use specific cuts of meat, farmers are free to sell the rest as fully organic and make even more money of their work.

So Friday January 4th was a very full day, one with new experiences, things accomplished, and my first ever tattoo.  I'm already planning my next bit of ink for my left wrist which will be a Zen Enso of some kind. I'm still thinking about it.  Okay, maybe not such a short trip in the way back machine, but a worthwhile one.

A bit of permanence in an impermanent universe . . .

I put this image together after seeing some other ideas online and posted it to facebook, but it's been rolling around in my head and heart for some time since then.  It's come to me however in the almost a week since I finally became a tattooed lady, that this means even more to me than I'd first thought, or could even imagine.

I should start by saying that some of the things that everyone else I know and have talked to about getting inked never happened to me.  It was over the course of the last eight years I've been considering this that I have a less sensitive part of the body inked first, because the inside of the wrist hurts more than other parts of the body.  It was suggested I get a really tiny intro tat someplace else on my body so that I'd know if the pain was going to be a problem.  It was also mentioned that the endorphin rush after the tat was done would make the pain so worth it, and that people often get addicted to being inked because of the high afterwards.

Well I missed out on all of that.  As Amber was inking my wrist I sat there completely relaxed and comfortable chatting with her like we were having tea.  To me is felt simply like she was drawing on my wrist with a pen.  No pain at all.  And afterwards, no endorphin rush either. :(  So no chance I'll become addicted to being inked.  Thankfully, I can and do get endorphin rushes when I'm out cycling and I break through that wall, hit the zone where it's all flow and go.  So I don't feel cheated.  Drugs and pain however are not what I'm here to talk about.  Which is a good thing, lest I bore you all into a coma.

What struck me, aside from all my existing reasons for finally taking this irreversible step and permanently altering my body is something I'd not expected.

Over the years I've lost nearly everything I've ever owned more than once. I've been profoundly homeless. Even now, the remains of my life and my marriage sit in a storage locker a thousand miles away.  I'm spending an absurd amount of money on the storage locker until I can get there, save what I want to keep, and donate the rest to Goodwill.  Of course the money I'm spending to keep this locker is money I could be saving every month to get out there and get what I wanted to keep out of the locker.

I'm a Buddhist, and aware of the suffering attachment and impermanence can bring. I'm not really so wrapped up in the property that's there.  It's stuff that I've not really had any major access to since I put it in storage almost a decade ago.  Yup, nearly 10 years ago.  I'm interested in saving some of the memories there, and selling some of the valuables there to then be able to finally move back to Colorado, and start saving for a trip to California.  But most important are reclaiming some of the good memories that are locked away in that storage locker and sharing them with others.  Like of all things the video of our wedding that Earl didn't want and his parents did.  On it, is my brother, being his usual priceless self, a video my sister-in-law never saw because she wasn't married to my brother at the time.  A brother now long gone.  So it's about closure, it's about the future, it's about doing something right.  Because I have worked hard to rebuild my life after Earl and his folks, and having then the locker go into default and getting the hit on my credit report.

So I'm working towards getting that done, but it came to me that no matter what happens I've reached the point that if I have to, I can walk away from what is in the locker. I won't like once again losing everything from my past, but I can do it.  And it'll be memories, opportunities and good credit lost - again.

Which brings me to what struck me about this simple bit of ink.  For the rest of this lifetime, it's mine. No one can take it away from me, it's something I invested in that I will own for all the days of my life.  It's a level of permanence I've never had before.  It's kinda stunning and amazing for me.  I own it. It's also not something that can be stuck in a box, dropped in a storage locker, and left there for ten years.  Even if I lose everything including even my clothes, I will still own and have with me this ink.  It's a lovely bit of permanence in an impermanent universe . . . this means more to me than I possibly could have imagined in the eight, more years that I've wanted this tattoo.  It struck me suddenly, but feels really good. Standing naked in a spring rain, this will be with me, part of me. It's mine, I own it, and regardless of what may happen for the rest of my life, I'll own this and what it represents to me.  That's a sudden and powerful feeling for someone who has lived a life that is an exercise in impermanence.  I'm kinda stunned.

Time is a river that tells no lies...

A Zen Koan I'm partial to, that was featured in an episode of Stargate SG1 reads like this:

"The river tells no lies. Though standing on the shore the dishonest man still hears them."

Taoism teach us about "Wei Wu" which is, over simplified, knowing when to act or not act.  Mind you it's not just the Tao, the concept of action, or not, is littered liberally through Eastern thought.  In various forms of martial arts for example it is often better to flow rather than block, let an opponent over extend, become unbalanced in stance and energy and use that to your advantage instead of a hard block.  Sometimes refereed to as using an opponents energy against them, it's all about knowing when to act or not to act.

Taoism will teach us not to fight the river, for we are certain to drown if we do so, but to let the river take us where it will, share with us it's lessons and then deposit us upon the shore when we are done.

Time I have known as an illusion for many years, because it either exists when I choose to observe it, or vanishes from sight when I am mindful and present.  I can and have actively in my own life chosen to absent myself from time by constructive use of mindfulness.  Doesn't matter what I was doing, the illusion of time vanished when I did not observe it, almost in support of Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle.  Simply stated, Heisenberg forwarded the concept that the act of observing a given event, would act to change the result of the event.  Almost like the butterfly effect talked about in popular culture.  Namely the suggestion that the flapping of a butterflies wings on one side of the world could cause a Tsunami on the other side.

Some time ago I talked about entropy being almost a safety value, working deliberately and intentionally at the quantum level, to help bring balance to the greater universe. How in that split second of the irresistible object meeting the immovable force, a timeless moment of pure peace and beauty can be had if one is open to it. 

Back to popular culture for a moment we find a subplot in the Star Trek movie "Insurrection" where Picard is being taught about timeless moments by a woman hundreds of years older than him who looks like she's younger than him.  Picard later uses what he didn't think he learned to stop time long enough to save this woman's life.  I'm reminded of Hamlet at the moment.  

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, 

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." -- Hamlet Act I, Scene IV

Which I've always understood as a particularly salient point that alludes to truth being far stranger than fiction. Having had my share of timeless moments, and mindfulness taken to the point where entire days simply vanish without effort I turned my mind toward time once again.  Especially given that I know at a quantum level it is simply a means of measurement, no more real or important than length, width or depth.  In a universe not limited to three (four) dimensions, there are multiple dimensions of time.  Going out a step further, the Multiverse (or M-Verse) theory suggests that everything and anything that possibly can happen, has happened, somewhere, somewhen.  The TV series Stargate makes great use of this concept over it's 11 year run where time is simply a vehicle for story telling, and regular crossings into alternate, parallel universes is common place.

Another "popular culture" reference that inspired this post is Garth Brook's song "The River" where he talks about the dreamer being a vessel;

You know a dream is like a river 

Ever changing as it flows 

And the dreamer's just the vessel

That must follow where it goes 

Trying to learn from what's behind you

And never knowing what's in store 

Makes each day a constant battle 

Just to stay between the shores. 

(Chorus) 

"And I will sail my vessel

'Til the river runs dry 

Like a bird upon the wind 

These waters are my sky 

I'll never reach my destination

If I never try 

So I will sail my vessel

'Til the river runs dry."

Too many times we stand aside

And let the waters slip away 

'Til what we put off 'til tomorrow

Has now become today 

So don't you sit upon the shoreline

And say you're satisfied 

Choose to chance the rapids 

And dare to dance the tide. 

(Chorus see above)

And there's bound to be rough waters

And I know I'll take some falls 

But with the good Lord as my captain

I can make it through them all. 

Yes I will sail my vessel

'Til the river runs dry 

Like a bird upon the wind 

These waters are my sky 

I'll never reach my destination

If I never try 

So I will sail my vessel

'Til the river runs dry.

Yes, I will sail my vessel

'Til the river runs dry 

'Til the river runs dry 

I woke up with this in my head this morning, it's a beautiful song in it's own right, but then it came to me, Time is a river too.  If we fight the river, we may drown, or at very least not learn from what it wishes to share with us.  If we simply stand beside the river, and let the water's slip away, we also may not benefit from the wisdom the river wishes to share with us.  Likewise, mindfulness, a form of meditation allows us to open ourselves up fully to what is around us, and simply take it all in, not judging, not shaping or forcing our will onto whatever may pass, but simply being very present in a given moment that becomes two, and four, and more, for however long one wishes to experience it.  Wu Wei, or better still, Wei Wu Wei.  Action without action.

Another Koan that comes to mind: "Put no distance between you and where you are."

In part it's about mindfulness, about being present, about the gifts the river will bring you.

Time will take one on a journey, and it will share with you what it will.  It will tell you no lies, but if you attempt to force your own views onto it, you will miss the beauty in the moments shared.

"The river tells no lies. Though standing on the shore the dishonest man still hears them."

Dreams teach . . .

. . .and sometimes I learn things about myself, or have things confirmed that I'd known or suspected.  The last two nights are no exception.  And somehow I feel as though I've been tested and passed muster.  I have my suspicions there, but I'll keep those cards close to my vest as they say.  A least for the nonce.

Anyway, back to my dreams.  Or should I say nightmares.  They have been such a constant part of my life for so many years it's hard to say anymore where the line between dreams and nightmares exists, or even if it does.  I oft wonder if it is not so much a line as much a matter of degree?

Night before last I was out walking somewhere, in a city I'm not familiar with, when I was accosted by a complete stranger that decided I was not at home raising children doting on my husband like I was supposed to be. He decided I was evil because I wasn't sufficiently (or at all) cowed by his presence.  He warned me that God had given him the right, the duty, to smite me if need be.  Maybe I should have been showing the fear and terror of being put upon by this person that I was feeling or something, but instead I looked at him and said I seriously doubt you are permitted by God to smite me.  That is not the way God works.  Some more words of madness from him and finally I said, "Fine, you and I don't agree, I get that, and you feel you have to smite me, I get that too.  Before we get to the smiting part of our program can I just mention that with great power comes great responsibility?  And that it might be possible that while the lighting flashed and the sparks showered in one blink of your eyes you had had missed seeing?  That I could not be responsible for actions you take, only my own?  'The sun is warm, the wind is mild, willows are green along the shore, Here no bull can hide?'"  In a moment that felt much like Yosemite Sam facing off against Bugs Bunny he bellowed "Enough nonsense woman, prepare to meet your maker!"

I simply said "I put no distance between myself and where I am, what of you?  If smiting me is what you plan to do, might I suggest you just get on with it and stop wasting both of our time?"

I watched as his hands began to glow and thought it strange, after all, as a healer I could do the same thing but would never think to use it to harm another being.  So I set my hands to glowing and increased my own shielding against negative energy.  At which point his eyes took on an intensity that almost reminded me of a Stargate universe Goa'uld and I thought "ah, false gods," as a massive amount of energy poured out of the heavens in my direction, hit my shielding and enveloped him.  It wasn't pretty from there.  I felt slightly guilty, like I should have perhaps shielded him as well and dissipated the blast harmlessly, but it was to late for that and I awoke shaken from my encounter with an agent of a false god.

So last night was an even longer, more involved nightmare typical of many, if not most of mine.  I'm being chased by people that wish to harm me, captured, and then forced to work on their behalf to do things they wanted me to all while threatening to hurt or kill me if I didn't do just what they wanted, the way they wanted.  Over the course of several days things came to a head with one of the leaders of these people falling seriously ill.  My own nature was to help him, heal him is I could, and prevent harm from coming to him.  So again I lit up my hands and encouraged one of the people with me, who was also being held against her will, to help with the healing as well.  One of the other people stood there stunned and said "We were most likely going to kill you when we were done with you, why do you willingly help heal someone who is going to kill you?"

I pointed out that it was not my job to be his judge, jury and executioner, and not my nature to refuse to help someone based on a judgement call of such magnitude.  Mine is not to decide another's fate, mine is only to lessen if at all possible suffering and to use my gifts for the greater good.  To sit back and watch him die was not in my nature, regardless of what was in his.  I was already suffering at his hands, and letting him die would not change what I'd experienced.

Awakening from this dream I felt as though I'd passed some sort of test.  I was also reminded of why despite the way Earl and his parents were treating me, I still fought tirelessly to help him heal and grow.  How despite my own subjective distress I could remain objective in my care and treatment of Earl.

I am Buddhist person.  Not because of what I say, but because of what I do.  I am Buddhist person not because of the preaching or pronouncements of myself, my god or others, but because of the path I walk.  These two dreams helped me to remember what I've known all along but had been distracted from.  Sleep is one of the ultimate forms of meditation, and through dreams, we learn or are reminded of what we already know.

Buddhism to me is much less a form or religion in the common use of the word, and certainly not deist, or dogmatic in anyway, but a method of navigating the great path.  I follow no one, practice no "rituals" other than perhaps meditation if one could call that a ritual, and I choose not to lead.  Buddha teaches that all is illusion, and not to believe in him or what he says, but to find our path to enlightenment and walk it ourselves just as he has done.  Zen Buddhism, which is littered in my remarks above, has only Koans to meditate upon, things to ponder and take from them what we may.  Things like:

"The river tells no lies, yet standing at it's shores the dishonest man still hears them"

and

"If you immediately know the candlelight is fire, the meal was cooked a long time ago."

So there is little or no chance of being locked into dogmatic thinking, or a set of sound bites or bullet points to shout from a position of self importance.  In Zen Buddhist, nothing is a given and everything is possible.  The "four noble truths for example do not exist as things set in stone, but as reminders of a place and time that flavored the thinking and experiences of the person who shared them.  That even the eightfold path as right as it can be, is not the be all and end all of Buddhist experience on the road to the great path.

"All roads lead to the great path, many cross."

And dreams, be they during sleep, or while in deep meditation, can and often do teach . . .