The name for my retreat center, Bridging Worlds, came to me after a dream, one of the several very compelling ones that convinced me to take the leap and move from Los Angeles to the remote and ancient mountains of North Carolina. In this dream I was driving my car and it died, wouldn’t move another inch. I got out, and looked across a distance to my home in the woods. There was a bridge between me and it. (At the time of this dream I had no notion of living anywhere other than where I was living, in urban Southern California.) I began to walk across the bridge in my dream. Someone joined me, then another, then another, then another… and on it went. We became many, a mass of people. We all spontaneously burst into song and dance as we crossed the bridge, singing a really happy song, doing exuberant movements, everyone in unison.

After a series of events which led me to encounter my home in the mountains, while contemplating the audacity of moving from LA to live alone in such a remote spot, this dream came to my remembrance and I felt without a doubt that it had been prophetic. Because of the bridge image in the dream, and a couple of other incidents involving a bridge, the name for my center emerged.

Now I am going to bed in my new part-time home in town. After nearly 7 years of living alone in that home in the woods on a mountain top, I have come down from the mountain to discover what my call is here, bridging the mountain world with this one. I feel one, two, three and a few more persons singing and dancing with me. How prophetic will the dream turn out to be I wonder? Does it suggest a chorus of internal, angelic voices singing with me as I move across this bridge, or will it be more literal, will more people involved? This is yet to be discovered.

I keep following the breadcrumbs in the forest – dreams, synchronicities, delights, love, depths of connection, visions, wisdom offered, healing, friendships of the heart, an occasional fairy and goddesses who present. What else is there to do?