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  • Meghan Letts

Traveling between the waking and dreaming of the sacred imagination

“What’s powerful about active imagination is that it helps create pathways between what we are consciously aware of and what remains hidden in the subconscious. Jung linked active imagination with the process of alchemy, that ancient effort of oneness, or becoming gold. And by gold, I mean, merging with these fragmented or divided parts of the self.” Meggan Watterson, Mary Magdalene Revealed

A teacher and friend of mine called it the sacred imagination. That we are in constant creation. That we can actually create a reality within our dreamscapes, both sleeping and daydreaming, or through a guided meditation journey. This process became very familiar to me when working in wilderness therapy. It’s the empowered knowledge that our brain does not know the difference of real vs. imagined. It regardless, affects the brain, our body’s process of integration, and the stress or relaxation of our body. If someone’s imagination or thoughts are that of distress, violence, or pain, then the body processes that in real time as direct reality. If one’s thoughts/daydreams are that of light, joy, freedom, spirit, then the body processes that as reality. Our hormones will adjust to our daydream thoughts.


This relates to waking up from a nightmare stressed out and having to shake it off all day, or waking up from a beautiful mystical dream and riding the ethereal wave of ecstasy that remains in the waking state.

Below is my experience in a self induced meditative journey...hang in there with me and open your imagination:


My dream journey began as I lifted myself out of my physical body. I descended down my familiar red staircase of my old apartment building into the vastness of the wilderness covered in snow surrounded by rocky mountain alpine peaks and snow covered evergreens. The sky was clear, stars shimmering, the moon was bright lighting the way through the snowy terrain. The night was silent & still, my body warm.


Each footstep gently crunched in the snow. The only sound. Not far in front of me is a large lake. Reflecting in it the mountain tops and stars. I stand at the water’s edge looking into it and take a step in the waters. There is no coldness here, warm as my body temperature to where I cannot tell where the water and my skin meet. I swim downwards towards the lake floor where I find a door silhouetted with light from the other side.


I step beyond the door and find myself in a fall landscape of vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows. The forest floor is covered in leaves and the ground feels warm to the touch. I am surrounded by oak trees, as far as I can see.


I lay on the ground and feel myself melt into the soil and then begin to grow from the soil I become the oak tree. My skin the bark. I grow as tall as they do.


I can see thousands of oak trees in the distant horizon, spanning onwards. I feel the wind rush through my leaves, my body sways.


I feel the language of the trees, unspoken language, felt language. I understand them, hearing them through the wind. I feel them breath around me, with me. I feel their presence and aliveness. The core of life beyond the thick hard bark. I feel their softness, strength and vastness. I feel like I’m part of them, their community and family.


I return back into my human form still laying on the forest floor looking up at the oaks. I begin to walk back to the door, returning back into the depths of the lake, closing the door behind me. I swim up and up, surfacing to the still waters, and shimmering stars. Swimming through the reflection of the mountain peaks and night sky. I walk back, retracing my step through the snow. I feel the snow covered pine trees. The are much quieter than the world of the oaks. The pine watch me in silence and curiosity. They know though, that I feel them. I walk back up my red steps and turn around to say goodbye. Walk through the door. Back to my body. I open my eyes.




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