Walking the Circuits in Damjl
I walk the circuits of Damjl: the arrangements of bright blue and red rocks spread out across the lawn, many of them recently repainted by myself and other New Lifers. Some of the circuits are rectangular mazes and others are spirals. They each have a particular application. Of the three that I walk, one helps to assist digestion, the next improves dreams and reduces insomnia. The third is for memory. The idea is to walk slowly, breathe deeply, and concentrate on the purpose of the circuit.
I begin with the rectangular digestion circuit. How can I meditate when I am overwhelmed by the phenomena of the natural world? Like the feeling of my sandals moving through the grass, the pink clover and white clover, the cricket-song and breezy birch leaves, the sun on my bare arms, the gray clouds mounding up in the distance to my left, or right, depending on which way I’m turned in the circuit. How can I digest all this? 
The world feels like a kaleidoscope of metaphors where everything mirrors everything else.
Next I walk the rectangular dream and insomnia circuit. I really need this one. I’ve been out of contact with my dreams for quite some time. Maybe it’s because I’m living my dreams in the world right now. It’s like dreaming awake. Still, I miss the repose of deep sleep and the magic of internal theaters.
The circuit for memory is a combination of rectangle and spiral. As I walk, my childhood memories of nature arise. I don’t want to remember just my past though. I want to remember the past and the future. Besides, memory involves more than personal memory. It includes other dimensions and incarnations as well. Right now I’m still digesting the first course, the green salad of delightful childhood nostalgias. Maybe, over time there will be more.
A couple of days later I walk the dream circuit with a very specific intention in mind. Not only to remember my dreams, but also to open up a path of inter-dream communication. Since I’ve been here, some of the folks from home have sent emails telling me they’ve been having dreams about Damanhur. I wonder about the subtler ways in which I might be communicating my experiences here. 
After all, when I’m awake, almost everyone else is sleeping and dreaming on the other side of the planet.
It’s a bright sunny day. The beauty of the world presents itself as tall yellow, dandelion-like flowers reaching up through the grasses. Most of the roses are gone now but here we have the golden solstice flowers. I imagine each flower is the divine spark of someone I know. As I walk I say each person’s name in my mind and send my positive creative experiences into the collective Dreaming.
by Ann Marie Molnar naiade3@gmail.com
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