The Memory Lingers On. Not.

Thursday, March 30, 2006 ~ Santa Fe, New Mexico

I wake from a restless, largely sleepless night - no doubt the result of all the energy still moving through me from last night's new moon/solar eclipse teleconference.

This month's dreams have been vivid, though not always clear.

This morning's dream is stunningly clear.

In the dream, a client offers to give me a chiropractic-style adjustment for my still-hurting back. As she's about to do it, her roommate emerges and says, "Wait. Let me try something."

Exit client. Enter strange-looking contraption that resembles a room-size, farm-like windmill with hinged, pen-like blades.

The roommate explains that his machine was first used during World War II, has been particularly successful with hip and back problems and is designed to "restore soul memory."

As soon as I hear that last bit, I refuse treatment.

"This isn't about restoring soul memory," I insist. "All the energy of this time is about letting that memory go, about letting it be purged, about starting fresh, from this moment."

At which point I wake up alert and with total dream recall.

Could it be true? I ask myself.

Am I in the midst of a soul-memory purge that is erasing everything my soul has been hanging onto since the beginning of time?

The answer, I believe, is yes.

It explains all the disorientation, dislocation and distress I have been feeling. It certainly explains why my lower back has been acting up these past weeks.

If tens of thousands of years of my soul's memories are being washed away, all the perceived structure and support they represent are dissolving with them. And all aspects of the identity linked to them are also disappearing.

It's enough to give my lower back - and all its fearful inner friends - a panic attack!

Yet, as I wrote a few days ago, how can I truly live in the present moment unless I give up the past?

How can I make space for the new if I'm clogged up with a soul-lifetime of past energy?

A few months ago, when my computer's hard drive was overfull, I did a radical purge, erasing scores of programs and documents I no longer needed.

That's what's going on right now within the hard drive of my soul. There's a little pac-man racing through my beingness eating up the past.

Sure, the resulting void is at times uncomfortable. Sure, it pushes buttons and triggers fears.

But it also creates space for the new, the unexpected, the wondrous and the miraculous. It makes room for me to express my potential and live the Divinity that's been squeezed out by all those lifetimes of old programs.

Perhaps that soul-memory restoration machine of my dream would make my back feel better. But it would do so by restoring the false security of a past that no longer works.

That's an old technology.

Better the true security of a life of trust lived in the moment.

That's the new technology.

And that's the one that seems to be working. Since that dream my back feels better than it has in days.