“The wound and the chalice:” a dream-poem, searching for meaning…

The wound and the chalice

Last night I dreamed
there was a wound
on my left leg
that would not heal.

It lay open
for me to see it.

I looked closely
and reached within it
with three fingers

pulling out a cup,
a chalice
made out of something
like alabaster.

It glowed in the light
as I held it
before my eyes.

When I looked back at the wound,
it had already begun to heal.

--Stuart Higginbotham

While in New Mexico at the Charis Mandala Sanctuary, I had a powerful dream that I then wrote as this poem the next day.

It is, as Jung would say, a “big dream.” There is a lot there for me to work on—a lot to work on me. Images of chalices and wounds, healing and sight.

While there, I felt led to begin working on a new set of prayer cards, and I added a chalice card to the deck.

Now, I can continue to incorporate this image into my devotions, paying attention to what continues to stir up in my soul with the symbol of the chalice. (If you come by the office, I’ll show you the entire deck and we can have a conversation about imagination and prayer…and have some chocolate).

One of the first associations I had with this dream-poem was the line from Saying 70 in the Gospel of Thomas, the ancient text discovered with the Nag Hammadi texts in Egypt in the 1940s.

I saw the chalice in the wound, and I knew I needed to take it out. I knew I needed to see it, glowing like alabaster. Only after I took it out did the wound begin to heal.

I also thought of this line from one of Rumi’s poems:

There is a lot here to reflect on in terms of what a chalice is and what a wound is. I went to see my analyst when I returned from New Mexico, and this will be an ongoing conversation around my own vocational identity, for sure.

But what does it stir up in us regarding how we engage with dreams and poetry? There is more to the story around this dream that I may share later, but this is one of those incredible moments that reminded me that there is something very profound within and beneath all that seems to distract us, something that connects us all.

Blessings to all,

Stuart