Dream Trilogy

In the Jan/Feb '10 issue of SPIRITUALITY AND HEALTH, Thomas Moore encourages readers to develop a dream practice. He suggests ways to get started, such as letting your dreams “live on” in a painting, drawing, some music, a poem.” That's what this post is about.

Top Right Card:

I am the Guardian,
The one who keeps you safe
The one who gives you rest
You can draw upon me and trust me in stressful situations

In January 09, I dreamed I was part of a rescue mission. With a sense of urgency, we loaded people and dogs into a waiting helicopter. I covered the dogs with a blanket inside the helicopter. Before I had closed the passenger door, the helicopter began to lift off the ground. As I am terrified of flying in the best of circumstances, I should have been frightened; however, a large, tall man sitting between me and the pilot leaned over me, secured the door, and pulled it closed with absolute and calm authority. He then took my hand in his and said, knowingly, “It’s OK.”

Bottom Right Card:

I am the One Who Keeps House
the One Who Makes Ready
My gift to you is time; change will occur when you are ready—and not before

In early May 09, I dreamed I was attending a seminar in an old Victorian house. Some guests were staying in the house, and I walked one of them to his room after a meeting. I saw that it needed cleaning and offered to clean it. I told the guest, a man, that he could walk to a nearby coffee shop and wait while I “freshened up” his room. He seemed to not want to burden me with cleaning, but he relented because he could tell that the room needed some work. “Don’t worry,” I said. “This is my mother’s house, and I’m used to this.” The man seemed satisfied with my response and left. The room had too many rugs and pillows. I started plumping pillows and straightening up surface areas. Things needed shaking and vacuuming. I changed the bed sheets. I liked and esteemed this man and wanted him to be comfortable. The more I cleaned, the more I wanted to clean. I went beyond my desire to make the room fresher and more pleasant. I polished woodwork and scoured the bathroom, taking great pleasure in the work.

Card on Left:

I am the All Knowing One who Knows and Loves You

My gift to you is acceptance

In late May 09, I dreamed I was in a large field at night with hundreds of other people. I was with a man, but I knew he wasn’t the “right man.” Just a man. We were there to watch a lunar eclipse, I guess. I sat on the ground and watched in fascination as the moon seemed to slip under a lace veil, or a lace veil seemed to cover the moon. It was as if the moon were swallowed up by a veil that passed over it. I was awed, and in that state of mind happened to catch the eye of my man again—the one on the helicopter and, I believe, the same one whose room I cleaned. In that second that our eyes met, I felt a great sense of belonging and connection.

Then the sky went black, but it was more like the world went black. I lie flat on my back with my eyes closed, wrapped in absolute darkness. With the darkness came stillness. Everything was perfectly dark and still and silent. The silence stunned me, and I felt frightened—absolutely alone, swallowed up. I thought, “This must be what it feels like to be without God.” My heart pounded. Then my yoga background kicked in, and I remembered to breathe. I relaxed my lower back into the earth. As I breathed easily, I felt the perfect void as a kind of perfect fullness. “This must be what meditators strive for,” I thought. Then I thought, “Maybe this is God.”

When the blackness ended, everyone in the field got up. There was some commotion as I searched for the crowd for my man. He was leaving with a woman (his wife, I presumed). I started to say something to him, but before I could get the words out of my mouth, he said, “I know.” We weren’t even close physically, but he said, and I heard, “I know.” And that was the end of it. I didn’t need to say any more. He knew what I had experienced. I felt like I would see him again.

----------------------------------

These dreams are not through with me. Even as I write this, I see more clearly that the first dream introduces me to Animus while the second dream is deeply and traditionally feminine, and the third dream unites the Animus and the Anima. One thing remains for certain: the cards and dreams together allow me to feel, as opposed to think the reality of the dreams. I now have a sense of what it feels like to be protected, to prepare, and to be known, and for this I am grateful.

Moore says that the “fundamental point in developing a dream practice is to live from a deep place and to connect the rich, profound life of the soul with ordinary waking activity.” Working with these dreams is, in fact, changing my life because, on my best days, I can reconnect with the feelings I experienced in these dreams. I can tap into the sense of sacred security I felt in the helicopter. I can embrace cleansing and renewal, and I can slow down and remind myself that I have survived the darkest of darkness, the deepest black; I can feel again the sense of wonder and awe that I shared with the male stranger who knew just what I was feeling as I breathed through the darkness and relaxed into it.