In 1998 I undertook a quest that led to a weeklong state of communion with the universe. During the week, my dreams united with waking-life. Poems, paintings, music and dance blew around me like wind, all of them interconnected on an unbreakable web of being. Wild animals gathered round me. When I passed babies, they gazed at me adoringly. People fuming with darkness were also strewn along the way. The illusory aspects of my adult male self were asleep. I was like a seven-year-old boy—the seven-year-old boy I had forsaken to become a man.
I felt the signature of God in everything. Metaphor was no longer figurative. It was actual. It was in the fibers of nature. For psychotics, the symbolic consumes the real. For me, the symbolic and the real embraced, making consciousness whole. (Drugs were not involved.)
In answer to the calling I received, I spent two years turning myself inside-out through self-observation, monastic living, attendance to my dreams (recording 10 to 15 a night), meditation, and contemplation. These practices precipitated, in 2000, the sudden, unanticipated identification of myself as a woman—this after being born a man, and growing up identifying as one. The ramifications were psychically cataclysmic. Many times I thought the world was ending, and it was, in the universe inside of me.
I had never before considered changing sex, and assumed that I was magically turning into a girl. My psyche was pouring into consciousness. When this happens it is called “psychosis.” In the word “psychosis,” “psych-“ means “soul,” and “-osis” means “sickness.” I had soul sickness. I did not see it as a condition to medicate, but rather a process through which I could piece together my female self. I understood the end of soul sickness as soul wellness.
For two years I survived without a fixed-identity, lost in visions, managing psychodrama, and often bedridden in a trance like state. In 2004, I began hormone replacement therapy. In 2005, I obtained an orchiectomy and have lived as “Amy” since then.
Without my dreams, I would not have become a woman. My female self literally emerged through the dreams of my male self. In becoming my new self, I essentially have become, in waking-life, the main character of my former self’s dreams.
Dreams put forth perspectives on perspectives on perspectives that lead past the horizon of the imagination, and on to the wholeness and perfection of Heaven, where there is no divergence between dreams and waking-life.
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