MAZ-The Great and Powerful!
We find our friends sometimes, in the most Usual Places. Grade School, high school, college.
Our neighbors, co workers, family…
And then sometimes we find our friends in the most Unusual Places.
Like the Internet. Or more specifically, a forum.
Having just gotten a computer, I looked for my favorite musician on the Internet and found his newly launched web site and forum. It was a fun and exciting place to explore. Many of the people who posted on his forum were interesting, funny and down to earth. One of those people was MAZ. MAZ, which I pronounced as ‘maze’ – as in amazing, only to find out a year later, that it’s suppose to be MAZ, as in the ‘Great and Powerful OZ!’ As many of the people on the forum did, we made a connection and exchanged a few emails. That didn’t make us friends, but it didn’t make us total strangers either. Because of the power of the Internet, I made connections with her and others, that I never would have had under any other circumstances. This was HUGE for me, as most of my life and friendships were based on the medical field. To have conversations that didn’t have anything to do with death and dying, but the joy of life expressed through music, was wonderful.
I went to a concert at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park, New Jersey, where Bruce Springsteen got his start. (The Stone Pony and the 1960′s music club known as the ‘Cave’ in Liverpool, where the Beatles first played, are 2 places I’ve always wanted to go.) Standing in line, I walked past a 4ft, 11 and 3/4 inch woman (that 3/4 counts, dammit!) and realized from pictures I had seen posted, it might be MAZ. I ran back and said, ‘Hi, are you MAZ? We’ve emailed each other before, I’m Jane from the forum, how are you?’
I got a non committal head nod, a ‘who the hell is this woman?’ look and with that, I stopped babbling and got back in line. The show was great, the club was a DIVE, (do NOT use the bathroom there!) and I felt like Alice falling through the Looking Glass into the world of Internet acquaintances, devoted fans and Rock and Roll.
The next time I met MAZ, was at the Hard Rock Cafe in Pittsburgh. A great club for either a musician playing solo or a band, located downtown and set right by the river at Union Station. MAZ was happily tipsy from drinking her favorite , Vodka, and I was smart enough to do just the -’I'm acknowledging you head-nod this time.
Fantastic show, we shut the place down around 4 am, and then a funny thing happened on the way to the bathroom, (which WAS very clean.) Waiting my turn, out from a stall comes MAZ. ‘Janie Jetson! How are you ?’ all accompanied by a sweet, unsteady hug. ‘Well,’ I thought, maybe its the vodka, but somehow from Jersey to Pittsburgh and all the time in between, I’ve become “O.K.” So, I hugged all 4ft 11″ (and 3/4′s dammit!) back.
I don’t know MAZ’s real name, where she lives, (well, I do know the state) how old she is or what she does for a living. But I do know she’s as funny as hell, loyal, smart and has one of the strongest sense of self of anyone I’ve ever known.
And in our own way and in our own fashion, over the years, we have formed a wonderful friendship. One I treasure as much as I value her.
Since she never bores me, ( trust me, that’s a big deal, I get bored easily), makes me laugh and ponder thoughts and share feelings and events, I’ve asked her if I could interview her. She said “no” because she didn’t feel there was any reason for her to be interviewed. I explained that my reason for asking is because I think she’s interesting. After a few months, I asked again, with a condition. Instead of an Interview, we could do an Inner-View.
She said, Yes – I said Thank You!
Questions:
1.You love, love movies and are a voracious reader, has any movie or book been life altering to you?
Movies, no. Not life altering, but more like…I relate. Watching them might be more of a reminder that the creators of those movies at least, understand and are probably faced with the some of the same struggles I have too, in a roundabout way anyway!
I’m not really a big movie theatre person, so I’m not usually familiar with what’s current until it isn’t current anymore! I’m a big horror and B-movie buff. The old black and white horror flicks are great, but I’m not really into current horror. Most of it’s crap. It isn’t horror at all more than it’s just gratuitous blood and guts and bad acting. That’s what GORE is for and there’s an art to Gore that current horror completely misses! Most current horror films aren’t good enough for me to consider them horror and they’re way too cheesy bad, too highly budgeted and too clean and unoffending to ever be Gore. There are some current horror movies I really like though. I love Seven and Silence of the Lambs. Saw I was really great! I like the kind of horror movies where you can really see something like it happening. I guess it’s that “I relate” thing again! HA!! I like cheesy low budget horror movies like Basket case, Motel Hell, Alice Sweet Alice or Magic!! Horror stopped being horror in the 70’s. I think technology has a lot to do with that. Actually technology has a lot to do with how disappointing so many new movies have become. Movie technology is way too advanced. Too many movies relying on computer this and that and figure if they WOW the audience with fancy futuristic computer graphic stuff that it makes a good movie. There’s more effort put into the way you see the movie than there is the actual content of the movie. Movies don’t really leave you any room to daydream anymore. Not to mention it seems like nearly every movie now is the same movie, with a slightly different plot and different actors. Or it’s a REMAKE of a GOOD movie that came out in the 70’s!!! But since I rarely see 1st run movies it doesn’t matter! I’m more into staying in and watching movies. I love Netflix. They have a great selection of off beat movies that no one except me watches, so I never have to wait. My Netflix queue is always full and always going.
Books are different all together. I have a physical love of books. I can’t even describe the feeling I get when I’m in the middle of a bookstore or a library. The older the book, the more intense the high. One of the greatest things in the world to me is cracking open a new book, or pulling out a very old book that hasn’t been opened in a long time. I do read a lot, but it’s more for my own education, research, or resource, you know…like a reference tool? I love Clive Barker and of course Stephen King. I have lots of the classics and I like poetry. The local libraries love me. I donate a few dozen books 2-3 times a year. My books stack up pretty fast. I have to weed out everything I’ve taken as much as I can from, and donate. Hopefully they will grow corn for someone else.
2. You grew up in a more or less traditional Roman Catholic Mexican family and yet you are so open minded to other religions and other less conventional lifestyles- were/are your parents supportive of that? I believe in Jesus as Christ, but people forget He raised the dead, turned water into wine and came back to life. All things we accept by faith, but appear fantastical or magical if viewed from the outside.
I may be crucifying myself on this question, but I promised I would be open to doing this for you, so I’ll do my best. I’ll start out with a little disclaimer. Very rarely, if ever, do I discuss my own personal religious / spiritual beliefs and/or practices. Mostly because the few times I’ve touched on it, the reaction was much more spooked curiosity than a true interest. That isn’t a bad thing at all, but being a painfully private person by nature, I’ve never been open to giving or sharing of myself based on someone’s “curiosity” about me. I don’t mean that to be offensive to anyone and I most certainly do not consider myself righteous in any way, shape or form. I’m simply more comfortable discussing certain things in like minded company. It means too much to me. This will probably be the one and only time I’ll be relatively open about it. For me it’s kind of like…Fight Club….and WHAT’S the #1 rule of Fight Club? You get the gist of it. So please forgive if I seem to be too “generally specific” or if I skip around a bit at times. There’s so much more than I can ever detail out here, but I’ll try to give at least a roundabout overview for your Inner-View.
Religion, Spirituality and everything that falls under those labels are very important to me. If I could spend the rest of my life studying world religion, spirituality and practices, I’d do it in a second. I’m very “hands on” when I’m learning so in order to do that, it would mean I’d have to be independently wealthy and wouldn’t have any other responsibilities! Oh what a goal to work toward!
I was born into families with a long tradition in what have now been classified as “magico-religious” beliefs. Belief systems you can’t learn from books and ways of doing things that simply can’t exist in an overly sterile, faux “spirituality”. It seems kind of strange because all I consider any of it to be, is what I grew up with. MANY people from Mexican (or Latin American) Catholic families follow the same beliefs! It isn’t being just Catholic. It’s more like being “Catholic too”. Not necessarily all Latin Catholic families, but in a lot of them, Catholicism is the core, the base, but there are so many other pieces and ways things branch off. It’s a perfect example of Religion meshing together with other beliefs. I hear a lot of people say “I’m not religious, but I’m spiritual”. That’s fine, but what exactly does that mean? When I hear that, I think of my Father. He hasn’t stepped into a church since my Mother died and prior to that, well, it was probably the next most recent funeral. But if you ask my Father what his spiritual beliefs are……the answer isn’t “well, I believe there’s something, but otherwise, I’m not really sure.” It isn’t that I think people who feel this way aren’t feeling anything, I just think they’re still trying to figure out what spiritual really means to them. By no means do I think that puts me above anyone else. It only puts me in a different place. There might just be a bit more in my spiritual and religious basket to draw from, thanks to “spirituality” being a staple in my family.
Now when I refer to Latin American Catholic families, I don’t mean Mexican-American or “Hispanic”. I mean someone who is directly aware of and tied to their Latin American heritage and culture. As an example…it was weird for me when I was younger, to have friends over to the house because they had no idea, no understanding of why there was an alter space at my house. Why there were flowers or fruit there or candles burning. And if there were things like bones or a jigger of whiskey…pffft forget it! It was WEIRD to them. Even my Chicano friends didn’t get it, unless they had Grandparents, or an older relative from Mexico who lived here too. Or unless their parents were from Mexico or another Latin American country and they’d been exposed to it all their lives like I had. It was actually my Asian friends who didn’t think twice about it. I think it might have been because the further down the line you’re born into the family, away from your family culture and into the influence of a different culture that might become more dominant, you lose an understanding of your own ancestors. Unless it’s incorporated into your daily life, you have to make a conscious effort to not lose it. The Asian kids I knew were “boat people”. They weren’t even 1st generation Asian-American, and they were totally respectful and dedicated to preserving their Asian culture while still honoring their new American culture Anyway, kids can be very unkind when they don’t understand something. I guess that’s true for adults too though, isn’t it? I was never picked on or anything like that, but it made my friends uncomfortable enough that we usually skipped my house! I tried to explain, you don’t go around laying down curses on anyone just because you know how. It was a feeble attempt at a joke that failed miserably! Ha!
By the middle of Jr. High School, I’d become tired of trying to explain, which may have actually been the precursor to my becoming so painfully private as an adult! I remember around that time, there was a girl a bit younger than me who started in my school. She was Wiccan. At least I had friends, she had nearly none! She and I were never buddies, but we were friendly with each other. I worked as a library assistant and she spent a lot of her lunch hours in there. Needless to say, there weren’t a lot of Wiccan materials to check out. She always had books from the REAL library. It’s kind of funny we never became better friends. I don’t really know why. We “knew” each other all through Jr High and High School (she did have lots of friends in High School thanks to the Theatre club!). I will never forget her because she’s the one who introduced me to the works of Scott Cunningham which have, to this day, remained solid reference resources! Ever since then, I’ve also had a real soft spot for Wiccans. I have many beautiful Wiccan friends who have always been so gracious and kind to me. Anyway…. by the middle of Jr High my Mother was also starting to become what I refer to as “crazy Catholic”. She allowed religion to become more of a hindrance at times, than a help. But her faith in GOD and in being a Catholic never wavered…..that’s another thing all together. Regardless, the big alter was sized down to a coffee table sized space with a few saint statuettes and flowers or palms. I didn’t question it because it sort of helped with my friends, since it’s much more acceptable and people friendly to see a statue of the Virgin Mary and some roses when you walk into a house.
My Father is Mexican and was born on what is basically a very rural farm community. Whenever my Mother would scold him for something like strewing breadcrumbs across the kitchen table, she thought she was offending him when she asked him “Were you born in a BARN!?” He pretty much WAS, so there was not much offense taken! There were no doctors there in the community and it was at least a few hours to the closest city. Who you had access to were Curanderos, Curanderas and Espiritistas. Who one family didn’t have the other did or if not, the neighboring farm community was a certainty. It’s what my Father’s family is made of and what they carried with them when they moved out of the farm community to the city. Everyone in the family became “citified” pretty quickly, but when something is in your blood, it doesn’t matter how you try to paint it. It is what it is. My Grandmother was the neighborhood seamstress, there were people in and out of the house constantly. When she wasn’t sewing for them, she was giving them some kind of “council” or a remedy for some kind of ailment. Both the physical ones and the spiritual ones. She always had holy water and holy oil handy on her alter. Always. She said it was important to know what to do if someone came to her with a case of “susto” or “mal de ojo”.
My Mother, a devout Catholic, was in her own 7th heaven whenever we visited (pre “crazy Catholic) because she had a church buddy. Someone else who reveled in Catholicism. She and my Grandmother walked to church (about half a mile) for the early mass, daily. Between my Mom, Paternal Grandmother and Catholic school, I grew a big love and appreciation for the Catholic Saints. Each of us in the family (both sides!) favor certain saints. My Mom had QUITE a few favorite. La Virgin de Guadalupe being one of them. She and my Paternal Grandmother made several pilgrimages to the Basilica in Mexico City. I remember as a kid being made to do “the crawl” with them, as they’d promised they’d do if their petitions were heard and answered. That’s the tradition. If you petition the Virgin for something, something big….like miracle big, the deal is if your petition is answered, you must go to the Basilica and crawl on your knees from the gates and steps all the way through the courtyard, up the center aisle to the alter to thank her. On any given day there are countless people crawling on their knees as they say the rosary to give thanks for their miracles. I understood the rules, but what I didn’t understand is why I had to do it too. I didn’t ask for a miracle! I didn’t ask for anything! Sheesh, can’t a Mexican Catholic kid get a break!? It wasn’t all torture though. When we visited Mexico, if we timed it right, we’d go to the city of Guanajuato to celebrate Dia de Los Muertos, which was always a favorite form me and encouraged my lifelong labor of love in working with the dead. I won’t even get started on that, but you haven’t lived until you’ve experienced the “dead” in Guanajuato!
Then there’s my Mom’s side of the family, who I have always been closer to. Though I hold the beliefs of my Father’s side so so so tight, there is this side of the family, another Catholic tree, but whose branches were somewhat different. My Grandma was Spanish/French/Irish. She died when I was 5 ½ years old, but still it feels like I spent a lifetime with her. She and my Father got on really well. I think it’s because she depended more on herbs and folk healing than she did on Doctors too. It was similar to his own upbringing and it made him feel at home. She called the doctor only when she had to. Mostly because with so many kids, there was no affording too many medical visits! If anyone needed more than a band-aid she’d send my Father to the “drug store” with a list. He’d bring her back a bag full of unnamed, unidentifiable, miscellaneous twigs, flowers and herbs tied up in bundles. She’d open everything up and do her thing. She’d make up a tea or a splash with it and soon enough you were good as new. Or if you were really sick, she’d give you a “limpia” with an egg or some broomstraw. It’s just what she did. My Father was heartbroken when she died. I was so young and so sad. The only thing that made it bearable was my Grandpa. My Maternal Grandpa is the be all to end all for me. He was, is and will always be my greatest teacher. I attribute everything I am as a person to him. All the good things anyway! He was American Indian (Tewa – not TIWA), gentle, passive and strong – in that Ghandi kind of way. He chewed tobacco, liked ONE swig of whiskey a day, played guitar and cards and he knew just about everything there was to know about people. He knew people like nobody’s business. My Grandpa and I were kindred spirits from day one. He pegged my gift (or curse depending n the day!) of empathy straight away and nurtured it. He taught me to be kind and to be strong. He taught me how to be a good person, a loyal friend, and a pillar and protector for anyone I consider a loved one. Basically, my Grandpa taught me to be a German Shepard! Ahem…that was a joke! I mean, he didn’t teach me how to fetch or anything….. heh, heh, heh. All kidding aside, he taught me not only the “how’s” of things, but also the “why’s”.
I spent more time with my Maternal Grandparents than anyone else through my early childhood. When my Cousins were outside playing, I chose to sit with my Grandpa, nuzzled up under his left armpit while he played his old worn acoustic. If I close my eyes, I can still feel the ‘thump thump” of his thumb when he hit the wood under the strings for effect. He never underestimated my ability to understand or learn anything. He’d tell me stories about when he was a young boy and about things he was taught. As I grew older, he’d teach me about people. How to read them, how to know them, and how to help if they needed it. He said you could tell a lot about a person from their eyes or by their gait. Everyone has heard the old adage “the eyes are the window to the soul”. My Grandpa taught me how to “hide my soul”, so if anyone looks me in the eyes, they can’t see it. He’d tell me little poems like “Wisdom can’t be learned, wisdom can’t be taught. Thems chosen wise, you see in the eyes, and they will always be sought.” Or “blind men see best because they don’t see with their eyes at all”. OH! And there’s always “keep your eyes open even when you sleep!!” That’s a good one, considering this IS Sleep Compass! Grandpa had a million of em. Some of them didn’t make any sense at the time, when it would hit me out of the blue it was like “oooh so THAT’s what he meant!” My Grandpa taught me the most practical things, in the most impractical ways. He said it was most important to be a good, strong person of good, strong character because sometimes as you travel along your path, you may find yourself alone, even when you never thought you would be. A weak person of weak character can’t stand to be alone very long because they can’t stand their own company. When you’re of good, strong character, you’ll always be in good company and you have no worries being alone for as long as it takes til you’re led to another good friend.
He talked a lot about “the path”. The path this, the path that. The path, the Path, the Path! I always thought “the path?” what the hell is “the path”? As I grew older I always thought the path was just his way of saying – LIFE. But as I go along “my path”, I now understand it’s so much more than that. “The Path” is not only LIFE itself, but it’s the place within Life where YOU are needed to be, as you LIVE! He said the world is filled with different kinds of people, some of who might need help along THEIR “path”. I should never, ever turn away anyone who finds their way to me for help. It might be they need an ear to listen or a shoulder to lean on or just a friend to understand, when no one else can. If someone is led to you….if you can help, you should. If you can’t, then you help them find who can. And to not forget, by that same token, I would always find my way to the right people too, even when I think I’ll be lost forever. Rules to live by huh? He taught me the in’s and out’s of people for sure. What to look for, how to SEE it and what it is I’m LOOKING at. Almost like…human spiritual diagnostics. He said “YOO Awl-wez haf twho be sh-HARP on all peepole” (you always have to be sharp on all people). He meant to always do your best to read every person you meet, not necessarily to look for negatives, but to really SEE the persons you meet……and never let your guard down, be sharp! I’ve done pretty well for the most part, though there was a span of a few years or so where I had a very full plate in my personal life and admittedly my spiritual skills were tired and stretched. In an attempt to keep helping people, I spread myself too thin. Not smart and not good. I let my guard down and well….I wasn’t too sh-HARP on the peepole! I did the best I could, considering what I was carrying on my shoulders, but truth be told….I made some mistakes. Not very “sh-HARP” at all, indeed. Sorry Grandpa! Lessons learned and scars bared. But in true spiritual style, I’ve been working very hard to purge myself of the last bit of residual poison. But, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to read people the way he could. Grandpa died when he was in his 90’s. I was in my late teens, and already deep in many other different “spiritual paths”, but I didn’t feel ready to lose the only person, even in this huge diverse family, who really understood me. I didn’t think I was ready to go it alone. When he died, I had to hone every spiritual skill I had. I had to trust that every bit of quirky wisdom he laced me with was true. I had to trust and believe. Even when I’ve lost faith in certain things or in certain people, I’ve never lost faith in Grandpa.
Sometimes….every now and again….there really IS something to trusting and believing.
So, have my family been supportive of me? We (the Cousins & family – I must interject here that I’m speaking of my Maternal side of the family who I am closest with.) have all chosen to follow religion & spirituality in different ways. But, Yes, absolutely, in regard to my foundation… I have been blessed with support. Then again, in another way…. No…..for several reasons. First of all, I’ve deviated VERY far from my spiritual and religious foundation in ways I’m not so sure either side of the family would understand or agree with. Though the family has always embraced diversity, on every level, there were (as there always are) boundaries they feel shouldn’t be crossed. Let’s just say, I’ve never been good at staying within many religious / spiritual boundaries. Also, along with what has always seemed to be a pot full of beliefs that mix so well into a nice stew, several things have always conflicted and since I would never deny any part of my religious and spiritual heritage, I had to learn to manage all of it. For example, my Grandpa, didn’t deal with the dead much at ALL. He didn’t even visit my Grandma’s grave after she was buried. He believed you leave the dead alone. When a person died, they went to the other side and they were far more concerned in enjoying that experience than to be tied to us here. He felt it was fine to remember them and talk about them so they aren’t forgotten, but you are not to bother them. They will come to you, (through dreams for example) when or if THEY need YOU. So we never discussed working with the dead at all, unless it was in regard to dream work (which I’ll expand on in question #3!). Then there’s the other side of the family (Paternal) where it’s the total opposite. The dead are EMBRACED and celebrated! The dead are considered to be here all the time only not in physical body and they LOVE to be called on, they LOVE to be honored, they LOVE to be celebrated and they LOVE to be asked for help! Even if you’re not born with the natural gift, you’re almost expected to learn at least the basics of working with and celebrating them. So you see, it’s a conflict that could have become a dilemma. It hasn’t for me. Am I breaking the rules? Yes. Do I think I’m disrespecting either side of my family? No. I don’t call on my Grandpa and he visits when HE chooses to come to ME, but then again, I still sit and visit with him at the cemetery! And though he taught me how to be the best kind of good person I can be, I am still horribly wrathful and terribly unforgiving. Neither of which would make my Grandpa happy or proud! I struggle to keep those attributes on a tight reign, but you’d never know. Every now and again…..a little anger slips through though. My Paternal Grandmother (who is in her late 80’s now) however, is proud to know I don’t deny the dead, AND if anyone ever comes to me with a case of “susto” or “mal de ojo”, I know exactly what I need to do! Ha!
Basically, my own person beliefs are now a mix of many religions and many practices (which some people don’t understand or agree with!). I take my spiritual & religious beliefs and practices very seriously and I am as respectful to each religion or belief I hold as I can possibly be. I will not incorporate a belief I cannot be respectful of. I have never ever in my entire life felt I need to be apologetic for who I am, for the beliefs I hold or for the practices I follow. It’s who I am, and who I was born to be. All of it.
The second part of this question states you (Jane) “believe Jesus as Christ, but people forget He raised the dead, turned water into wine and came back to life. “
I believe there are many people who believe the same, however, they may read this “Inner-View”, scoff and throw a judgmental finger at me! (No, I am NOT comparing myself to Jesus!). I’ve dealt with enough in my life to know people only think you’re “weird” when you’re not doing something on their behalf or for their benefit! It’s all part of ‘the path” I suppose.
There’s an old gospel song that goes “May the work I’ve done, speak for me”. So…I will.
Well, there ya have it…..in a BIG nutshell! =o)
3. Have you ever had a prophetic dream? One that what you dreamt, actually happen? Have you ever made a change in your life because of something you’ve dreamed?
The gift of prophetic dreaming is kind of rare. It isn’t like a person will have ONE prophetic dream out of the blue. People with that gift know pretty early on and it isn’t something that only happens a couple of times in their life. It’s much more common for people to dream about something and then in waking life, something similar happens or something tied to the dream happens. While I don’t have prophetic dreams, I do have lucid dreams and I know enough about how I dream I can usually figure out what it means. You hear a lot of people say they don’t dream or at least, they don’t remember their dreams. We ALL have dreams. What I’ve encountered is people who say they don’t dream or who don’t remember them are either repressing some type of great trauma or they’re suppressing a great guilt. Whether it’s trauma or guilt, it’s something the individual doesn’t want to deal with, for whatever reason. Trauma is hard for people to resolve, especially the earlier in your life it was. The longer a person doesn’t face and work through the trauma, the longer it sits in soil of a person, the more powerful it grows, and the less control the person has over themselves. With guilt, it’s sometimes easier for a person to not have to take accountability for something wrong they’ve done than to deal with that. Or on the other hand, say, in a case of an abuse…it’s difficult for a victim of abuse sometimes to understand the abuse was NOT their fault. It’s easier for them to keep punishing themselves for “causing” the abuse than it is for them to forgive themselves for something they had no control over. Either way, in the dream life, a person is totally unguarded. It’s when your mind and your soul try to connect with you and tell you what’s going on. Things we can’t see in waking life because in waking life we’re always “on”. The wheels are always turning. We’re guarded and ready to counteract anything. In the dream life, spirit connects with you. It can by way of loved ones who’ve passed. They come to us in dreams because it’s easier for them to get our attention then. If your loved ones spent their energy in trying to manifest a physical form in waking life, most people would be too stunned by the experience to actually take away any kind of information. In dream life, when a loved one appears, we’re not stunned. We’re not scared or freaked out. Most people consider their dreams as an “UNreality”, which is UNfortunate because there is a plethora of information there for us! If a loved one who has passed appears to you in a dream, they’re trying to get your attention. Pay attention to what they’re telling you!! Keep your eyes open even when you sleep (right Grandpa?!)! Everything we dream relates to our waking life, somehow. The hard part is figuring out the language of your own personal dream life, so you can translate it.
Anyway, when a person is carrying something they want to bury inside themselves, the last thing they want is to have a deceased loved one coming to them and talking about it, or scolding them, or telling them to please try to work through the problem. So, they shut their eyes to their own dream life. It’s like having the TV on, pressing the mute button and closing your eyes. The TV show is still running, but the person watching can’t see or hear anything, on purpose. Usually people like this don’t sleep restfully either. They probably have problems with insomnia or are on some kind of anti-anxiety, anti-depressive medication and/or a sleeping pill. Those types of medications can really twist dreams that do make their way through too. The worst thing in the world is to not get good sleep. I wish for everyone with these kinds of challenges to even just take baby steps to work through whatever it is inside of them. The more they work through, the better they’ll sleep AND they’ll even start to SEE their dreams, which won’t all be bad ones. I promise!
Wow, I really got off track didn’t I? Let’s see….no, I’ve never had a prophetic dream, but yes, I have (and do) made changes due to a dream. My dreams have helped me a GREAT DEAL in my waking life. I was taught a loooong time ago that it would serve me very well to pay just as much attention, if not more, to knowing my way around the dream world as the waking one. It might explain why I have such a bad sense of direction in waking life! I can’t get from here to there in my own city without getting lost, but I know my way around a dream!
4. I was a fan of the TV show, ’Pushing Daises’ and the hit line is, “If you could bring 1 person back to life for 1 minute; who would it be and what would you say?”
I’d bring back my Maternal Grandpa, even though I’d be breaking his rules! I’d ask him to tell me everything he could fit into one minute that he thinks would help me at this point. I wouldn’t tell him I love him or anything like that….he already knows.
5. One of our ongoing questions here at Sleep Compass, is where does the soul go during deep sleep? The Mind doesn’t rest, it is very active, but what about the soul?
The soul goes nowhere and everywhere! The soul doesn’t need our physical body for anything, regardless of whether It be sleeping or not. As long as we have a living, MOVING physical body, the soul is sort of stuck going wherever WE choose to take it during the time we’re awake. The physical body is the car, our mind is the kids, and the soul is the Mom who has to do all the chauffeuring. When our physical bodies are asleep, the Soul is out there…EVERYWHERE, checking things out, it might just be gathering up lessons and information to bring back with it when the brain and body finish resting. It might be how the “reasoning” part of us survives. You know how the saying goes “everything is more clear after a good night’s sleep.” (or something to that effect). It might just be that your brain is resting, so you might not be thinking as hard on things, and at the same time , your Soul is out there gathering information, in the most pure and diplomatic way. So when you wake up, things only SEEM clearer because now you have the tools you need to cope or deal….or not.
Basically, during sleep Mom (your Soul) is out having pizza…eating buster bars….watching porn….drinking crown n coke….and enjoying the time without being bothered with brain shock (those damn kids!).
6. You have been known to ‘run with scissors’ at work, after hearing the Avril Lavigne song one tooo many times.
“Wont you take me by the hand
take me somewhere new
I don’t know who you are
but I… I’m with you”
Do you still engage in such dangerous activity?
Of course. If I don’t run with scissors I have NO chance of accidentally stabbing someone else….especially at work.
7. You’ve stated, “Taco Bell always makes EVERYTHING better…The Simpsons (only 2nd to King of the Hill) AND Taco Bell together is a combo for world peace.” Do you still feel this is true in the current economic state?
Absolutely. How else can everything be made better with 79 cents and no cable television?
8. The first song I remember hearing on the radio, was ‘Red Rubber Ball’ by CircleSweet Beach Boy harmonies, and I could make out some of the lyrics,
“Now I know your not the only starfish in the sea, if I never hear your name again it’s all the same to me’
and the second song I remember hearing was, ‘Paint it Black’ by the Rolling Stones. I was sitting in the back seat of my parents car on a Sunday, dress on for church and patent leather shoes. We were at a friends house and I was waiting for my mom to come back to the car.
“I see a red door and I want to paint it black, I see the girls go by dressed in their brightest clothes-
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes’”
Kicking my feet against the seat and innocent to the extreme and yet, I understood both how the singer from Circle was hurt by his ex-girlfriend and Mick Jagger didn’t want any colors in his life.
What was the first song you remember hearing and what was the first song you felt ‘speak’ to you?
Believe it or not, I can’t recall the 1st song I heard, but music has always been a huge part of my life. I remember crawling in bed with my parents very early on Sunday mornings and we’d listen to records. I still have some of those vinyl records. El Chicano, Santana, HEAVY, HEAVY Motown. My Mom grew up in a part of town called “The Five Points”. It’s known for being a primarily African-American community but “the Points” had ALL kinds really. Ethnicity wasn’t the big commonality, what everyone actually had in common was they were all on the bottom of the financial totem pole. You were either poor or dirt poor. Either way, everyone ran together, tight. One of the strongest bonds was the one you had with the boys in your “group” (singing group). A few of my Uncles were in “groups”. They met to practice in the back alley’s. So at any given time, you could stick your head out the back door and hear a’cappella and doo wop floating in. It only stopped when someone’s Mother would yell out that it was “time to get your alley cat butt in the house”. At every family get together growing up, the Uncles would start taking about “remember when” and sure enough with in minutes the harmonies would start and the living room turned into the back alley. On my Father’s side of the family are the Mariachi. Voices so strong, clothing so impeccable and faces so regal, the flow of sounds from self-taught instruments almost paled in the background of it all. One of my Paternal Cousins HATED Mariachi and refused to carry on with it despite the constant badgering from the men in the family. His Father played guitar AND sang. Those are big Mariachi shoes to fill. My cousin was more interested in playing American rock and pop. He sang the best version of “Blue Bayou” that I’ve ever heard. He lives someplace in Southern California. I haven’t seen him since I was a teen-ager.
Strangely enough, the first song I felt speak to me wasn’t til I was a bit older (still grade school age), which might be why it “spoke” to me. It was a song by Carole King called “Pierre”. It was on the flipside of “Chicken Soup with Rice”. They were an added bonus in one of those kids magazines of the 70’s. It was a thin piece of square plastic that turned out to be a record….if you could get it out of the magazine in one piece. The plastic was always perforated, but you could never seem to get the record out without ripping it and it never occurred that you could just use scissors. Anyway, “Pierre” spoke to me.
“There once was a boy named Pierre,
Who only would say…”I don’t care…”
Read his story my friend
For you’ll find in the end
That a suitable moral lies there”
By the time I heard “Pierre”, the force of my empathy had already begun to flourish, so I was literally PAINED over Pierre’s indifference and sooooooooo distraught when the lion ate him! Somehow I knew the Lion was REALLY just symbolic of “life” and that if you’re not careful, life will eat you alive. I thought to myself, Pierre wasn’t indifferent as much as he was simply lost and all he really needed was someone to guide him and help show him the way. Oh how I wished Pierre would find his way to me! I would easily fend off the lion and I could help him! I could guide him and help him find his way. Then he would understand and everything would be good and right in his world.
Many people believe that you choose the path. I believe sometimes the path chooses you. “Pierre” is one of many signs early on, that “the path” chose me!
Since then, there have been quite a few songs that speak to me…..way too many to list them. I think we all have those special songs though. Most of the songs that “speak” to me are those that either echo me as a person or echo my life. I definitely live one of those “you can’t make this shit up” kind of lives.
9. You said 2 of your heroes are Jesus and Prince. If you could ask one of them a question and get a truthful answer and tell one of them something and know they would listen, which one which and what would it be?
That’s easy. I ask Jesus “Why”? I tell Prince….”Thank You.”
10. I went to see the group “Filter’ at a small, but cool club here in South Florida. I played their CD, ‘Title of Record’ so many times, I ended up buying 3 copies! The last song they played was, ‘Take a Picture’ my absolute favorite and one I’ve played thousands of times. The club was only a third full and I hoped throughout the show, the band wasn’t discouraged by this. They didn’t seem to be though, and at the end, everyone was pressed up against the stage, singing the lyrics ‘”Could you take my picture ’cause I won’t remember?” at the top of their lungs! My daughter had told me the lead singer, Richard Patrick, had survived a drug addiction and was married with a new baby. I had tears in my eyes, I was So happy he was alive and I prayed he felt all the love in the room for him and his music and how important it was to everyone there. In the darkness, with the colored stage lights and the pounding music, it seemed like Holy Communion among all of us.
Have you ever felt that surge of love and oneness at a concert and if you did, with which band?
I’ve seen a LOT of live concerts from a lot of different genres of music, and in a big variety of venues and situations. I can tell you which shows have been my favorite and why, but no, I’ve never felt an energy of total love and oneness at any concert. The only one that comes close would be the first time I saw Prince. This was when he was touring for his 2nd album (S/T Prince). I snuck out of my house, took a city bus. He came out in speedos, a trench coat and thigh high bitch boots. It was like he stepped off the album cover. That might be one of the defining moments of my life. What I felt was something in ME, for ME and about ME. It didn’t come from the other people there and I didn’t feel connected to them through the experience. I’ve felt a general unity much more at the raves I used to go to than at any concerts, but a lot of that could have been attributed to substance! I do feel WAY more unity in aggressive music too. Maybe it’s because the energy is all coming from one true, pure, unfiltered source – aggression. My friend Dagmar and I recently went to see a band called Combichrist at a venue that holds probably 150-200 breaking fire code. It was an all ages show, so considering that, the ages ranged from about 15-mid 20’s. But there was an ELITE crowd of ADULTS, which included Dagmar and myself! Haha! Overall the give and take of energy from band to crowd and visa versa was pretty amazing. At one point I turned to Dag and said “Boy, have you ever seen so much Adderall working in unison?” Maybe it’s the rhythm of certain music that puts me in the zone? I’m not really sure, I’ll have to pay more attention next time.
SleepCompass’s Favorite Five Questions-
1. Gilligan had his hammock, Dracula his coffin and SpongeBob SquarePants his ‘pineapple under the sea-
Where is your favorite place to sleep?
In a bathtub filled with hot water, a can of coconut milk, half a honey bear and some rosewater.
2. Do you-
a – sleep alone?
b – sleep with a significant/insignificant other?
c – with critters?
d – All the above at some point.
3. Jack Nicklaus dreamt a new golf swing. Robert Louis Stevenson had a dream that became the basis of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Paul McCartney heard the melody for ‘Yesterday’ in a dream.
Has any inspiration come to you in a dream?
Absolutely! We’re truly limitless in dream life, the second we wake, we’re forced to accept the limitations the physical world seems to put on us. In dream life, where we’re limitless, if we learn to PAY ATTENTION, sometimes we can actually find a way around the seeming limitations of the physical world. But, again, if a person considers the dream life to be an “unreality”, they’re probably always going to remain more limited than they actually are, and perhaps may never reach a goal they could have.
4. They say you are most vulnerable during sex, I say it’s during sleep. Sex is often when we pretend, prepare, and promote who we want to be, not always who we actually are. Sleep is when all pretensions, prejudices and poses are washed away and left in it’s wake, is our true essence, born from the ocean of our subconscious.
Or I could be wrong
What do you think?
I agree people are more vulnerable during sleep. If we’re vulnerable (as you mean) during sex, it’s by choice. People are vulnerable during sleep by default. SO much can be done during sleep in the dream life. I don’t mean ONLY the passive side of it all– meaning being the RECIPENT of the incoming information, but understanding and working the ACTIVE part of it all. If you know how to do it, you can affect others during sleep. Something as simple as helping them gain confidence or ease a physical ailment, to helping them overcome an addiction or at least see the need for acceptance of it or assistance with it during waking life. Then there are those …not exactly nice things… If you have the ability and the knowledge you can hag someone, or call demons to them. Bad, bad stuff. A lot of people don’t believe in any of these things, (though they’re true and real). They feel if they say a prayer or wear a cross, they’re protected. Ask someone whose been held down in a dream how protected they felt or how UNREAL it was! Experiences like those are sometimes diagnosed as a medical problem like sleep paralysis, rather than “someone doing something to you in your dream”. It’s much more um….”sane”…to say it’s sleep paralysis. But medical sleep problems are so much different. Maybe that’s something Sleep Compass will look into doing…explaining what some of these medical sleep problems are. Anyway, affecting someone else through dreams can be done. And chanting “now I lay me down to sleep…” isn’t going to help if someone who know what they’re doing really wants to get through to you, good or not so good. It’s said that Satan and Lillith are the first Incubus and Succubus, the Father and Mother to all those who have come after them. I guess the Bible doesn’t acknowledge Lillith though huh? Though she should be credited for being the first woman created. But that isn’t what this questions is about is it? Boy I get off track quickly!
A person is probably more open to benefic AND malefic actions through dreams than in waking life. Like I said before, in waking life people are for the most part guarded to some degree. But in dream life, is another world all together. I guess the good side to that (the malefic anyway), is while most people are clueless about what can be done in dreams, most people also are too lazy, not truly interested or just don’t have the drive, focus and “stick-to-itivness” to dedicate the years, study and energy it takes to develop and sharpen any natural ability, skills or interest to be able to do any of this to begin with – benefic or malefic. Then, there’s also a basic code of Ethics…… though Thelema teaches us “Do what thou wilt, shall be the whole of the law” – basically there is no “right” there is no “wrong”, there is only what you do and what you will, when you are at the foot of your maker (if you believe you have one), be accountable for. That leaves a matter of any personal code of Ethics pretty wide open doesn’t it? A Professor acquaintance of mine believes that death is the great equalizer, I believe the dream life is.
5. Which song lyric best describes you-
“I am just a dreamer, but you are just a dream”
“I want a dream lover, so I don’t have to dream alone”
“Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
Travel the world and the seven seas
Everybody’s looking for something”
How about….
“I peeked inside of the open door
Looked around – don’t know what for.”
Way too bright, could hardly see.
Oh no, can’t believe it.
Oh yeah, could almost see it.
In a dream in BLUE”.
(Dream in Blue by Los Lobos)
Am I allowed to do that?
And thank you dear MAZ, for being you and my friend.
(thank you for thinking I’m interesting and for thinking someone else out there might think I’m interesting enough for an “Inner-View” too. I apologize for being so long winded. Hope I’ve not disappointed- MAZ)
Sweet Dreams MAZ, JanieJetson
