Pursuit in Mortal Fear

Pursuit in Mortal Fear, Monday, April 26, 2010

Several men with guns (three?) who have already killed some people are
on the rampage wanting to kill more. They are chasing me/us. At one
point, I am in a school cafeteria warning people. We are temporarily
safe, but the gunmen are coming. I am mopping the floor. I crawl
under the table where the milk machine is to mop something that looks
like vomit. Then the gunmen arrive and we are all running again,
through the building, over and through fences, through the backyards
of nice suburban homes where we warn the residents, who are all out
enjoying their yards. More people join the fleeing mob. About 4-5
children of varying ages climb varying heights into a tree, and I say,
"get down, run, go for the woods—the have guns, they have rifles, they
can shoot you in the tree." We think we see some woods (where the
trees would offer some shelter), but when we get there, it turns out
to be a dead-end quarry with unscalable cliffs. (They are covered
with vines that from a distance looked like trees.) There are small
caves and tunnel-like holes and I stand with the others considering
what to do (terrified), worried the caves might be dead ends.

I wake up fearful and relieved to be awake and "safe."

Last night's reading may have influenced the dream . Blanco and crew
were chasing Ren, Amanda, Shackie, Croze and Oates. But I have lots
of these dreams even without the scary reading. Life is a fatal
disease. I don't want to die. Or suffer. I am fearful of what lies
ahead. (In this moment, I am OK.)

The Boy with the Guns and the Burned-up Lady

The Boy with the Guns and the Burned-up Lady, 4-24-10

1)The Boy with the Guns: A teenage boy has several guns and knives
and kills someone. He is a strange boy with a roundish body and long
thin but strong arms, a round face like a younger child. At first,
there are many people, but no one does anything, so I sit on the boy
and hold his arms and try to disarm him. The boy is very strong and
keeps getting away. Everyone else leaves, except Keith, and I keep
wrestling the boy to the ground and he gets away again. I get one gun
away and he gets another from a hidden holster. He wants to kill
Keith and me and is very angry and powerful. Over and over he escapes
and over and over I wrestle him down. I holler at Keith to bring
ropes to tied his wrists and ankles so we can call the police, but
Keith can't find any rope and comes back with adhesive tape but
doesn't put enough on and the boy immediately gets out and I wrestle
him down again and Keith applies more tape, but a little while later,
he escapes again. (The tape doesn't seem to stick well, and he
manages to peel it off.) This goes on and on and on. Keith does not
assist with handling the boy. He does not understand how strong he
is. I tell him over and over but he doesn't seem to believe me. The
boy also pulls a knife and later a third gun. I always seem to be
able to temporarily disarm him, but never get the final better of him
(never get him safely under control.) At one point, I am sitting in
a chair with the boy on my lap like a child (he is smaller at this
point), holding him like a child who is out-of-control. The boy's
brother comes in and sits down and we are talking to him. He is an
adult, but is very sick with some degenerative disease, so we cannot
get his help. He is unable to help us and we do not even tell him
that his brother has killed someone. It seems pointless to burden him
with this knowledge when he is so sick. The boy with the guns seems
crazy and somewhat unwell, but not in a way that affects his strength
or will.

2)The Burned-up Lady: A woman burns up from the inside, leaving only
a perforated shell (like thick aluminum foil) and a few small pieces
of charred bones rattling around inside.

* * * *

The second dream followed right on the heels of my waking up disturbed
from the first. After that, I was unable to go back to sleep.

The first thing that popped into my head is my struggle with addictive
allergies and food cravings, which can, in fact, be fatal, both
directly and indirectly. If the dream represents my food issues, I
don't know why a crazy boy with guns would represent it. But it would
explain why I am the one doing the wrestling. Or simply my struggle
with my weight, which alone could be deadly. It could also be my
brain tumor.

The burned up lady could be a hint about the first dream, or it could
represent my anger and my fears about it.

Everyone leaving during the crisis reminds me of the time the giant
boa was trying to kill me and Frank said, "Don't panic," and ran out
of the museum.

One Ski, Friday, March 12, 2010

One Ski

One Ski, illo by me, view it larger here.

I am with my father and my brothers staying at a ski lodge. I am feeling tired and low energy. As we leave to walk to the slopes to ski, I feel too tired to carry all my gear, so I take one ski. My plan is to leave it at the base of the slop and go back for the other ski and poles. The ski I am carrying is long, shiny and blue.

As we walk toward the slopes, my father suggests we walk up for the first run, rather than taking the lift. I don't understand the value of doing this, but don't argue. Other people have been doing the same thing, punching their toes into the hard-packed snow along the side of the trail, so there is almost a stairway there. We start up. My father, one of my brothers and I walk slowly up the side of the very steep trail. One of my brothers is walking up the center of the trail (and is way ahead of me). I think that is a bad idea, because he might get hit by skiers coming down (though none seem to be at the moment) and also might damage the slope with his ski boots. I call, "Tom, come walk up the side," but it is not Tom, it is Bob. He is a young teen, still small, and skis gracefully and competently down to my side and starts up again on the side.

I suddenly realize that since we are climbing the side of the very steep trail, that it is the expert trail, and I don't want to make my first run on the expert trail, since I am not feeling well. Then I realize I can't ski down with one ski; I need to go back to the lodge where we are staying and get the rest of my gear. I will have to climb back down the slope and should do so before I climb any higher.

I go back to the lodge to get the rest of my gear, but there are a series of complicated problems that prevent me from getting what I need.

__________________________________________________________

I have HALF the gear I need to ski, 2 boots and one ski (3). I missing one ski and two poles (3). What is difficult to do that I am now trying to do with half the gear and not enough energy? Live? Love? Paint? Write? Heal? Keep house (clean)?

The hassles at the end (which I now remember only as hassles and obstacles, but in the dream were fully detailed and complex), are very much like all the things that happen in my everyday life that keep me from accomplishing my goals. Family commitments and obligations, required phone calls, doctor visits, driving Graham around on a variety of wild goose chases, complex messages from Ellen Bowen that I have to waste time deciphering, etc.

The skis in the dream are the skis I had as a teenager. And my brothers are teens and my father still vigorous and eager. But at that age, I wasn't tired (normally, unless I was sick) and would never have attempted to climb a slope with one ski—that's more like things that happen now. At the moment, I can't think of anything that happened then that resembled that, but it was a long time ago. Ski trips were something the four of us did together. My Mom stayed home at "Margaretto's Lodge" and kept the home fires burning and had a hot meal ready for us when we returned.

I was sad to leave my father's skis in his basement when we sold the house. L But I had no use for them, other than sentimental. I left all his books behind, too, including ones inscribed to him by his mother, my grandmother. L And I left all my aunt's books in her basement. She wanted me to take them and love them, but I didn't. I was too overwhelmed at the time to even take one.

Did something happen when I was 14 or 15 that's affecting me now?

There was a period of time when I had ski dreams regularly. One of my repeating dreams was of trying to ski when there wasn't enough snow. Moving from patch of snow to patch of snow. I realize this dream is different, but there's a resonance—I am trying to do something without enough of what I need to do it and with many obstacles. (Why skiing?) I'm just not sure what it is and how it relates to my family of origin.

And: why walk when we could take the lift? Later in his life, my father would not have suggested that. But we did do it, at his suggestion, in the early days, for some reason that I no longer recall. (It's not that I'm against walking for the sake of walking, but when skiing, why not take the lift?)

In what way(s) in my current life am I not taking a lift that I could be taking? How am I attempting to ski on just one ski when two are available? How (or why) am I taking just one ski along when it would be more appropriate to carry 2 and be prepared? In what ways am I unprepared for what I am attempting to do?

I don't know, but if I did, it might make an interesting poem because I love the metaphor of climbing a steep, expert ski slope with only one ski. (Am I failing as a poet because I cannot unravel this metaphor?)

A factor in all these things could be time. This is because I try to do more than is humanly possible in a multifaceted life. I am not carrying enough arrows of time in my quiver of goals to accomplish them all in the face of the complexity of the obstacle course I have to run. (I am mourning my inability to finish new work for the current green show that I wanted to enter and my probable inability to submit an air poem to the contest I wanted to enter and all the novels I want to complete and send out.) I may need to wrestle my ADHD and my ultra enthusiasm and drive to accomplish to the ground and pick one or two projects I really want to accomplish and do those and put everything else on the back burner. I also need to do a better job of balancing LONG-TERM goals with short-term goals. I tend to concentrate on one to the exclusion of the other.

BALANCE—that's what I need! You need two skis to be properly BALANCED! But I need a dynamic and changing balance to suit the variety of projects and interests and needs, family and personal.

Or, maybe I just need to relax a little and not be quite so upset when I fail to achieve all my (sometimes unreasonable) goals.

I would like to have a better system for prioritizing. Sometimes I waste time on petty or small goals or even distractions (ADHD!) and mess up on big important goals because of it.

OR, I could, as some people have done, learn to ski down the expert slope on a single ski. (But unfortunately, that seems unlikely). (I'd have to lose weight to do that—and don't get me started on that as a metaphor or I'll never get my tasks done!)

Maybe I need to learn to Snowboard. Yeah, add that to my to-do. Snowboarding is a bit like skiing on one ski. Friday, March 12, 2010

Runaway Car

Pulled in two directions and being left behind by my car etc

(I dream that):

A huge gang of people are leaving on a trip from a big house and I
don't want to go, but they've taken my car and I have to go to try to
get my car back. Some guy has organized it, but my car is full of
other people and I am assign to a 4-horse cart—white horses. Somehow
in the dream, I know how to drive them. But I am thinking I will be
getting farther and farther behind from the my car, which as already
left—I don't want to go at all, but am eager to get going before the
car and the people are lost to me. Keith brings me a packed suitcase,
but it is a suitcase packed with junk. I send him back to get me some
stuff, my coat, changes of clothes, underwear, and he comes back with
them all loose, not in anything. Meanwhile, my assistant has released
the horses—am trying to instruct Keith and my assistant, no no, don't
release the horses until you are ready to leave. This whole thing is
turning into disaster. I want to stay with Keith and finish my
projects, but I need to retrieve the runaway car.

I think this is a stress dream from all the things I am trying to
accomplish and failing.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Synchronicity

I had another little synchronous event this morning.  A "silly" little thing, but just a reminder! I was doing exercises, counting (sit-ups) and listening to an audio book (Blasphemy!) and when I got to the 33rd sit up and was saying 33, 34, just exactly as I said 33 and then went on to 34, the audio book said, 33, 34, right with me.  And 33 is one of those numbers!

I have been having whole series of these events lately, and I am listening.  Quietly.

Erin's new old house (Dream) 090513

Erin's new old house (Dream) 090513

I dream Erin has purchased a huge old house with serious decrepitude, but has resources and plans to fix it up.  It's so big she has not explored it all, but has discovered a theater inside which at this point can only be accessed through a narrow trap door (it's on the second floor).  I theorize there must be an alternate way to get there and she agrees but hasn't found it yet.  She tells us, me and Sara, that she intends to restore the theater and use it.  I am eager to join Erin and Sara in exploring Erin's new house.  I return later and there is a woman there that Erin has hired as a housekeeper/guardian of the house and I am explaining who I am because Erin is not at home.  I tell her I fronted the money for Erin to buy the house, but am not sure this is true.  I wake up confused about that final point.

No Help for the Snake Bite (Rattlesna...

No Help for the Snake Bite (Rattlesnake dream/nightmare)

I am out in the distant "bush" on a work-related task when I encounter a snake. The snake comes after me, chases, attacks and bites me in the finger in spite of my efforts to elude it. I am in thick underbrush and cannot run. The snake is small, brown, and thin and does not look like a rattle snake (they are usually thicker, huskier). It is wrapped tightly around my finger and won't let go, and its tail is hidden in its coils. I try to remove the snake, but it is locked onto my finger. I manage to press the coils aside and I find the tail which has 3-4 rattles on it; clearly its a rattle snake and poisonous. I struggle and struggle and finally get it off and it tries to attack again, repeatedly. I am encumbered by the brush and thicket which I can barely press through let alone run. I escape the snake and realize of course that I must go for help (and abandon my work). After I press through more brush, I have to swim across a large body of water. It is choppy and dark. The sky is very "black" with threatened rain and I fear lightning. I am, however, proud of my ability to swim through all this. At first I swim hard, but then realize that the excess flailing with circulate the poison so I swim more gently.

I have now arrived back at work which is a school/museum. Many of my work friends and coworkers are there in a meeting and I tell them I've been bitten by a rattlesnake. They are joking around and telling me unrelated things having to do with work and with their personal lives. No one is listening or hearing me, that I have been poisoned and need help. I make a loud announcement to the whole group, which embarrasses me, but they still don't listen. I ask the security guard for help--but he also does not help, he is busy with his own problems. I call 911 and get the police station and the person who answers the phone cannot give me directions to get there. I am thinking I need to get to the hospital. I keep saying; it's been over an hour, I need to get to the hospital, but no one is helping me. Because the snake was small, I think it may not kill me, but it still could, some snakes are more toxic than others and I don't know what kind of snake this is/was. I wake up in a panicked dither.

Things I am saying in the first narration of the dream:

• I am being poisoned
• I am being attacked
• No one is listening to me or hearing what I am saying
• No one seems able to help me
• I am encumbered and held back by multiple barriers to getting help/healing (underbrush, water crossing, bad weather, lack of assistance, stupidity/ignorance, distractions)
• I am in danger

Since all the characters in the dream are parts of myself (as well as other people in my life who aren't helping, doctors etc), I need to look at how I am holding myself back from healing. And why. And how I can change this pattern.

My chapbook, In the Circus of my Sanity, was sitting on the dining-room table at PB's place and I moved it over to the other side of the table. BB must have been looking at it, reading it. It shows a picture of "me" wrapped up by snakes. This image, fresh in my mind from yesterday, could have influenced/"caused" this dream.

Possible extended meanings:

Since snakes can represent penises and sexuality, perhaps I am being "poisoned by my sexual experiences," e.g.: rape etc.

Snakes can also mean:

• transformation and healing
• possible betrayal or loss of money
• someone liking/being attracted to you.
• hidden fears and worries
• phallic temptation, dangerous and forbidden sexuality (as mentioned above)
• a person around you who is callous, ruthless, and can't be trusted
• knowledge and wisdom
• Goddess Worship/the old religion
• doorways or journeying/knowledge/wisdom healing/shamanism
• my own masculine energy--the ability to take action in the world
• a poisonous or toxic situation in my life (if it's a poisonous snake)
• and of course, they can mean other things as well, as personal symbols. A controlling person, a parent etc.

I have always liked snakes in waking life and am not normally afraid of them, but most of the snakes I've encountered have not been poisonous. I did get very close to and photograph a Massasauga rattler, but it looked nothing like the snake in my dream. They are very placid snakes and do not attack (most snakes do not attack unless cornered.

The dream could also be a warning about the dangers of therapy and getting into toxic or poisonous areas of my life/mind.

I have snake dreams fairly often. One I had recently took place in the water (subconscious?)

Of course, the snake, too, represents a poisonous part of myself--and I can be toxic to others as well as myself. I keep returning to snakes, like I do to eggs.

The Fallen Moon

The Fallen Moon, by Mary Stebbins Taitt. This is from a dream the
other night--actually from two dreams in early morning. The white fox
in the trees and the fallen moon were juxtaposed dreams, one after the
other.

Dream Poem "Backwards"

This poem is from a dream I had last week.  I had considered making a poem of it and didn't attempt it because it seemed too hard, but it continued to worry me, so I attempted it and here it is (danger, upsetting images!):

Backwards

 

Round, puckered and striated like a nipple, the fossil

hides among rocks on the mountain top.  I stroke it,

feeling the bumps and indentations in grey rock.

Limestone, perhaps.  Below, sky stretches, endless,

fading toward white.  It shimmers like the sea.  I call you

to see this ancient stone creature, knowing

how you like breasts, the soft roundness of them,

the responsiveness of nipples.  Not rock ones,

of course, but still, "come check it out." 

But you frown and step back, refuse to touch it,

and when I look back, I see, not a fossil,

but a dead girl, naked, lying deep in the rocks,

disintegrating.  An arm here, a leg there,

features half rotted from her skull, the nipple

just showing in shadow on the twisted torso

deep between the summit's rocks. 

 

Boulders shift and ocean now surrounds us.

We're on a breakwater, but no waves strike

the rocks.  The water is still, calm and blue as a summer sky.

We stare at the dead girl.  She's become intact and fully clad,

her clothes pressed and clean.  Her cheeks blush

with color, brightening.  She lies on top of the rocks,

no longer lost between them, and I'd swear I see her

breathing.  She's flung across a slanted rock

as if dropped there by great bird, head downward, legs up,

long brown hair draped down the rock toward the water,

facing the endless blue above.  We're on an island,

a shrinking island, no land in sight, only the glassy water,

the unmarred sky.  I'm surprised when I realize

she looks a lot like me, at maybe nineteen. 

 

Her eyelids flutter, and I awaken, in another century,

in a distant place, alive, and much much older.  Tears

dribble down my cheeks.

 

 

Mary Stebbins Taitt

090403-0930-2a, 090402-1757-1c, 090402, 1st 4:15 PM; from a dream last week

The Casks

The Casks

The woman watches Jesus play with the sun. He tosses it into the air
and catches it, throws it behind his back, bounces it like a rubber
ball on the yellow pathway through the lawns and parks of Heaven.
Through his body she sees trees, bushes and an odd black sky with
unfamiliar stars. Jesus shines translucent white, bright, but not too
bright. He bounces the sun, lifts his leg so that it bounces under to
the other side. It passes through the light fabric of his robe
unencumbered. He catches it, places it back in the sky above the
earth, and turns to smile at her. He offers her his hand and she
takes it. It is warm and feels like ordinary flesh, like her
husband's hand. Like love. They descend a long series of stairs into
the darkness. She thinks Hell, and when he opens the small oaken door
and ducks inside, the scene there does not dissuade her from that
fear. Dwarfs, elves, and monsters. Wormy things sitting on benches
and stools. The room glows red in spite of darkness; a huge fire
burns in the fireplace. Gargantuan oaken casks rise behind the bar
from floor to ceiling. Everyone talks, laughs, drinks. At the bar,
Jesus orders them each a drink. His glows yellow and she watches it
enter his body, which brightens and shifts to a yellower hue. She
tips and rolls her glass, sniffing. It smells of chocolate, coffee,
and raspberries, tastes like roses. It makes her terribly sleepy, and
she awakens, of course, in bed. Her husband snores loudly. She wants
to rouse him and tell him her dream, but knows he will dismiss it.
'Just another dream about death,' he would probably say. She might
elbow him sharply for that unspoken comment if it weren't for that
glowing hand on her shoulder. Instead, she accepts another drink and
goes off to explore the future.

Mary Taitt
090309-1012-3a, 090308-2236-2a, 090307-2110-1c, 090307-1122 first

This is a new PROSE POEM from two back-to-back dreams.

Here are the dreams:

Jesus with the ball

I dream that Jesus is bouncing a yellow rubber ball and it goes through his robe under his knee (which he lifts as part of a bouncing game he is playing. The ball passes through unencumbered. Jesus is bright white, his face, clothes hair, everything, and half transparent (translucent). There is a scene around him, but it too is somewhat pale--a sunny yellow walk, trees bushes and grass.

At the Dwarf Bar

I dream that I am at a dwarf bar which is full of dwarfs, elves and a variety of other beings, some quite strange. The bar is all made out of oak, oak bar, oak walls oak tables and chairs. There are HUGE oaken casks behind the bar as tall as the whole room. There is a lot going on. My attention begins with a group at the bar and sweeps along the bar and then around the room. I hear conversation but cannot remember it now.

When I wake up, it seems incongruous and somehow wrong that this dream followed on the heels of the other. One light, one dark. Not that there seemed necessarily to be anything wrong going one, although some of the beings I saw seemed a little scary. (A bit monstrous.) There was a sense that something could be going wrong there, but I did not feel certain of it--there were conflicting feelings of enjoyment and foreboding. I am not sure I am articulating this well. The scene seemed fairly happy. But strange, a bit frightening and incongruous in contrast to the previous dream.

Click image to view larger.

Spring, Discovered!

Here is an art piece to go with one of my new dreams.

In the dream, the triplets were juts a little older than this. I am wondering why I am dreaming of Jewish triplets. Supposedly, things coming in threes either mean good luck or PAY ATTENTION.

Perhaps I miss my friend Jacob who I've known since he was a boy? I really have no idea. Tu b'shavat?

Two Dreams in January

Spring Discovered

We are on a road trip driving through a countryside that is brown and dead looking.  Suddenly, I spot a bush that has a few flowers and then one with even more and one fully flowered--perhaps a shadbush.  I want to stop and take pictures of the flowers, and there are humming birds in them, lots.  A Jewish man with a yamakah and three sons, also wearing Yamakahs (triplets) are with us.  Everyone is jamming in around the shadbush to try and get pictures of the hummingbirds (who do not seem to be afraid of us at all and are flittering close to our faces and cameras) when the boys discover a robin's nest with four nearly fledged baby robins.  They are holding them, very carefully, but after a while I am nervous and want them to put them back in the nest.  I want the babies to be safe and the mother to return to them.  At one point, I want to photograph the three boys, each holding a baby robin and sitting close tilting toward each other in a very attractive way (more by accident than design). There is one small grey-brown unhatched egg.  I notice it is not blue and wonder if it is rotten or if the egg of a parasitic nester (eg:  brown-headed cowbird).

I think this is a wishful thinking dream, as it is very cold and wintry here.  I am eagerly awaiting warmth and flowers, birds, etc.  I love taking pictures but don't like elbowing my way between other photographers to do so.  I am sometimes torn between taking pictures and protecting flowers or birds.  The egg could be "rotten" because spring is not about to hatch here any time soon!  I am also the three boys wanting to hold the baby robins, wanting to be very careful with them.  I hope there is not some rotten egg in my life about to hatch into something dreadful--like death, disease, loss etc.  The hummingbirds are a symbol of life and energy and JOY!  (I could use a little joy, I've been kind of depressed for quite some time.)

This was a very realistic dream and I suppose it could happen.  But I do not know a Jewish man with three identical triplet boys and can't imagine why I'd be driving through the countryside with them.


Unprepared for and Bad Memory of Richard and Mimi Farina

A Bar hired me to sing Richard and Mimi Farina songs, but I was unable to properly prepare and have forgotten many of the words and even the songs and song titles.  I am botching it up badly, starting songs and unable to finish them, substituting songs by other artists like Peter Paul and Mary.  At some point the bar is entirely empty and I am singing on alone becase I am getting paid to do so but feeling like a complete loser.

This is probably a stress/worry dream. 

• I worry a lot about being unprepared when I have to do a presentation--in my job, for years, this was a daily concern, but it goes back even farther, to school and homework etc.  And I have two classes and all my manuscripts to prepare.
• I worry a lot about my failing memory.

on the other hand, Richard and Mimi Farina were a LONG LONG time ago, and to expect myself to remember them well without having prepared is absurd.


I am very unlikely to ever be hired to sing at a bar--I'm not that good a singer.  And if I were, it seems unlikely that I would be expected to continue singing to a totally empty bar!  I say this because one of the things it's good to ask about a dream is this:  could this happen?  Meanig, could it be a premontion?  It could happen, but it is pretty unlikely.

2 eggs and a scale

I had another dream last night--it could have been in response to the
friend one, since I'd asked for clarification and it could also
havebeen its own thing.

I dreamed that we were breaking camp and everyone had gone ahead andI
was making a final check. I found two eggs and a scale, a small
electronic digital balance scale (black).

Both eggs were brown, one was boiled and one was raw. They were
slightly different in color and size. I took them with me because I
thought the scale might belong to Graham. It turned out that the eggs
and scale belonged to a friend of Keith's who was traveling with us
(friend).

When I woke up though, I felt that the dream was a message to stop
trying to measure poetry against art. Each is its own thing and has
its own place and I need to stop weighing them against each other.

Poetry is the cooked egg, in a sense, I've been studying it and it is
more well-developed. Art is the raw egg, still in process. Poetry is
ready to be eaten. Art still needs to be cooked.

Or maybe the message is to eat the cooked egg first--maybe I AM
supposed to weigh them.

There was a friend in the dream--maybe it means that the friend who is
angry and afraid and lashing out has many creative powers and energy
that would be useful to me if I reintegrated her/him.

I don't know. I'm tired. But I found the dream powerful and full of
symbolism. EGGS and SCALES are both very powerful symbols (like SNAKES
are powerful!)

Persephone/Demeter are also meaningful for me--Virgo with her scales.
Scales can mean justice, Balance (which I sorely need),
decision-making.

And eggs. Ideas, growth, birth. Fertility, creative potential. Also fragility.

In the dream, I went on a long solo journey with the eggs and then
when I found out they belonged to the friend, I KEPT them and did not
return them. Felt a little odd about it, but put them into MY/our
things.

I hereby ask for yet ANOTHER dream of clarification for THIS dream.
Does it relate to the other or is it its own thing?

Snakes in the Water

Snakes in the Water

A woman friend* (?) is visiting me. I seem to be living in Big Sur or someplace like that. We are on a cliff looking down at waves crashing on the beach. She speaks of swimming, but I say we can swim up here, and it's very peaceful. "We can swim to the right, we can swim to the left." There suddenly appears to be a deep clear warm lake at the top of the cliff. The water is comforting, warm, refreshing, pretty. After we swim a bit in peace and comfort, we encounter snakes. They are swimming in the water around us, and my friend is frightened of them. I ignore them and swim right through them, and they ignore me. But my friend yells angrily at them and splashes water to scare them off. Instead of fleeing, they rear up in the water hissing, showing their fangs, and then come at us in attack mode, opening their mouths to bite. I am offended that they are attacking me when it wasn't me who attacked them. I am also put off and a bit frightened by the now angry snakes. And I am upset with my friend for provoking them.

*In the dream, I know her, but when I wake, I can't remember or figure out who she is.

I had this dream several days ago and it has been haunting me.

I often think of water as the subconscious.

The green snakes (they were all green and in a wide variety of sizes) seemed peaceful and harmless at first. They floated in the water like lily pads. Relaxed. But when riled, they went into attack mode.

Snakes can be sexual and represent male genitalia, but also represent female power. The Goddess. They can represent nature and the power of nature.

The snake can be a symbol of transformation. Snakes are often seen as symbols of life, death and rebirth. In North American native tribes, the shedding of the snake's skin is associated with life and a new beginning.

If all the parts of the dream are viewed as part of myself, one could look at the dream as two different ways of dealing with life. If I approach life and change in a relaxed and calm way, I move through it without difficulty, but if I get frightened or angry, yell, splash around, than life becomes a problem and attacks me. I've seen this over and over!

I also wonder if the dream could have been caused by a confrontation with the security guard at Elmwood Cemetery. I can't remember if it happened before or after that. The guard was upset and K was exacerbating his upset instead of soothing it.

In any case, ONE message of the dream is to relax and go with the flow, so to speak, be soothing rather than angry and reactive. Unfortunately, when riled, I tend to attack, just like the snakes. That's the wrong approach. I learned it again today when calling the bank about an issue. Calmness works better. BUT, how do I get a grip on myself when upset?

I hereby ask for a clarifying dream.

Could this happen in waking life? Yes but it is unlikely.

Note: I am not normally afraid of snakes in waking life. But I often am in dreams.

OK, I have worked ALL MORNING and part of the afternoon Tuesday on a poem about this, 6 drafts so far.

Thin as Our Fingers
(Turning Flowers to Garbage)

A lake appears along the trail, above the cliffs
and pounding surf beneath. Bounded by cliff-side rocks,
it stretches nearly as far as we can see. Huge,
like the ocean below, but calmer. More welcoming
than the crashing waves of the sea. The trail
enters the lake and continues out of sight under the water,
as yellow as the yellow brick road in the Land of Oz.
I plunge in, eager, excited. Warm as air, the water
caresses me. Soft. Buoyant, delightful. I exhale, sink into it,
and rise again. “We can swim to the left, we can swim
to the right!” I tell you. And demonstrate. A smile
blossoms on my face and fills me with light
like the first sunny day of spring. You hesitate, then follow,
slowly. Wade, then swim. Then smile, too. We drift together,
above the yellow path under the water. You laugh,
bob, sway, almost seem to dance, until you see
the snakes. Green snakes, hundreds of them.
Some are as thin as our fingers, some as thick and long
as our arms and legs. The snakes float on the water like lily pads,
hold only their nostrils above water, heads suspended, tails dangling
like the long stems of water lilies. I swim and glide among them,
easy, relaxed, smiling. No clouds crowd the horizon; the sky
wears the clearest, deepest blue robes imaginable. Reflects
the endless blue water. But you stiffen. Hang back.
“Look,” I say, “they are harmless.” Snakes surround me,
and pay me no mind. Still frightened, you refuse
to swim forward. Suddenly, you yell and splash at the snakes.
In an instant, they all rear up, draw scaly lips back
to expose their fangs and hiss. They charge us both.




Mary Stebbins Taitt
For BB and jo(e)
090113-1229-1eb

I wonder if I should attempt a version of this poem that not only tells the dream but also explores feelings and possibilities about it. That feels challenging and frightening to me. Making a good and successful POEM out of all that. And right now I am totally overwhelmed, but maybe I can try it later.

I was up really late working on this last night and have done nothing else including EAT (no food yet today, BAD for me!) exercise chores etc. This has really consumed me but I MUST do other things!

The Broken Eggs

Here's the dream that went with the poem:

The Broken Eggs

I am at Florence Morrison's house for a class she is teaching and she is frying eggs for us--we have to get them from the fridge and bring them to her and she tosses them into the pan--to speed things up.  When I go to get mine, the fridge is full of broken brown eggs, and stacks of shells.  Everyone else finds eggs, but I find only shells and broken eggs.  Florence tells me broken eggs are still good and I say, "remember how I used to have chickens bag then, I know about broken eggs," but I still can't find any that are edible.  She tells me I need to hurry and I crawl inside the refrigerator in order to see better.  Now, even the cracked ones are gone.

I wake up with images of cracked and broken eggs haunting me.  (Broken dreams?)
I feel somehow sad and left out.
I honored the dream by writing that poem, and I ask for dreams of clarification.

I am grateful for

• enough sleep to dream.
• a husband who seems to really love me, in spite of the wretched poem I just wrote about him
• a husband who is handsome and sexy
• the fact that I lost some weight!  YAY!
  

The Sinking Raft

The Sinking Raft

Slowly, my husband unloves me.  He stops
putting the clean laundry in the drawers, then stops
fluffing and folding it.  Brings it up and dumps it
in a tangle.  Stops greasing my feet, rubbing my back,
making love to me.  "I will do everything,"
he said, when he was courting.  I dream of Florence,
wife of John, my botany professor.  More than forty
years ago, John tried to get me into bed.  I refused,
despite his gifts and constant attention, but Katra caved
and fell that long dark fall where you know you'll die
when you hit bottom, and she wasn't dreaming.
Katra didn't die, she became a lesbian, after John.
Who could blame her?  And Florence had an unfaithful

husband.  I hated John for that.  "I'll do everything,"
my husband said.  "You can't," I countered. 
He tried, but couldn't.  Of course
he couldn't. No one could.  I can't
do anything.  I rarely sleep, stare, zombie-like
at the increasing chaos I can't control
with my exhausted brain and body. 
But each time he stops, I see him turning away,
turning his face to the wall, inching toward the farthest
edge of the bed, away from me.  He does that, too. 
Leaves me in sleep.  I leave him, too,
get up and pace the dark for  hours, too tired
to be useful.  I finally sleep and go

somewhere he's never been, without him. 
When I dream of Florence, her refrigerator is full
of broken eggs.  She fries eggs for all the women
her husband courts, and everyone gets eggs
but me.  But why go back now, forty years later?
Menopause?  Dashed hopes, broken dreams?
Is, like John, my husband unfaithful?  "Remember
when you used to love me?" I ask my husband.
He tries the same on me.  "See how it hurts?"
He clings to me in bed, before he turns away,
clings as to a life-raft in a stormy sea.
I cling to him.  We're not unfaithful, only old
and getting daily older.


Mary Taitt
081205-1026-1c; 081205-0945 1st

Tantrum Dream

Tantrum Dream

BB, PB and I are in the basement eating, talking, discussing, arguing.  PB is watching TV.  I am eating a yogurt which explodes in my hands,  I am wearing white gloves and get going yogurt and red jelly all over my gloves.  I run upstairs to clean up and BB is coming up too.  There is a baby on the counter in a child seat(the counter is the exact same blue formica as our current counters, and the baby looks like Sophia, but her car seat is like the one BBJ had as a baby), BB is feeling the baby red jelly with a spoon and managing to block the sink so I can't get cleaned up.  I wait at first, then try to squeeze by.  The mess is getting worse and I feel desperate to clean up and I start having a tantrum.  I beat BB on the chest with my first and and kick him in the shins and cry.  He says, "Does this mean you don't want to go for a walk with me later and I say "Yes."  "I mean no!"  I am trying to say, 'Yes I want to go for a walk,' 'no I don't mean that!' but he has stormed out and can't hear me and I wake up all agitated and upset.

When I telll BB the dream, he says it's a classic Freudian dream about sex and the mess is jism and the dancing around is sex and the confusion is all the confusion brought on sex (and the baby is the result of sex).

I suppose you could interpret it that way, but I tend to think otherwise--or at least that there could be multiple interpretations.  I think I am feeling guilty about the times I get angry at at BB and he done nothing intentionally to hurt me/  Mostly, he means well.  I tend to be over sensitive and reactive, especially when I am tired.

(I am really tired right now, from baking all day--3 pies, cranberry marshmallow salad, chocolate wafer cake etc-- HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!)

I statements from dream:

• I can't get cleaned up!
• The mess is getting worse.
• I feel desperate about the mess!
• I am having a tantrum about the mess.
• I am having a tantrum because BB is blocking the way for me to get cleaned up.  In the dream, he is in the way and I can't get to the sink.  In my waking life.  He is uncooperative (sometimes) about helping to clean and very uncooperative and stubborn and slow about dealing with Susan's stuff.  I feel as if HE is in the way to my getting unpacked and settled in to this house.  I need to find ways that I can proceed even without his help and cooperation, or I will be endlessly unhappy.
  
• I "hate" BB (during the tantrum)!
• I know I love him and will want to be with him later (as the tantrum subsides.)
• I am eating something that I'm allergic to.  In the dream, I am eating yogurt, which I'm allergic to--this may mean in my waking life, i am eating something else I'm allergic to and need to pay attention to what that might be.)
• I am wearing white gloves.  Gloves can signify security and abundance.  White gloves can signify handling a situation with care. Messing gloves, especially white ones, can signify difficulties.  White gloves can signify looking for messes.  (I don't need to look very far!)

             
Here is that reoccurring theme of being disturbed and distraught by messiness!  This was an upsetting dream!  I really need to get a grip! 

Gratitude List:

• three pies made--I made:  apple cranberry, lemon meringue and bumbleberry pies
  
• salad (cranberry-marshmallow) and chocolate wafer cake made.
• BB is making dinner.  YAY!
• I had two 15 minutes today
• I got a new light therapy lamp which is supposed to help my sleep.  I hope it does.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Two Dreams, Wrong Trail, Backing up the Dream

The Wrong Trail

BB, PB and I stand in an arid sunny woods with very little understory.  Trails diverge in a number of directions, and there are signs pointing the way and colored trail markers, blue and orange.  At some point though, we have lost the way and stand and argue, which way.  PB points up the hill, I think we need to go left along the ridge.  But PB is adamant and we follow him, up over a ridge and down.  We emerge from the woods in an area that is under construction.  Large yellow construction vehicles and partly finished buildings litter the landscape.  I want to say, "I told you so," but I refrain.  This is not where we wanted to go.  This is not where we want to be.  But as I am looking around, I see that there are many strange animals wandering about, as if escaped from an animal farm, or zoo.  A large deer-like animal (female elk?) comes up to investigate me and I somehow capture it.  I want to take it back where it belongs, to lead it back, and it is willing to come with me.  But I wake up.

Backing up the dream

I am making a drawing and something bumps my arm.  This causes me to make a stray mark where I don't want one.  I know I am dreaming, so I back up the dream the way you would undo a mistake in photoshop, and thus erase the mistake.  I am drawing a tree, and coloring the branches a pale shade of orange.

I statements from the dreams:

I am on the wrong trail.  (We are on the wrong trail).
I am not where I want to be.  (We are not where we want to be.)
I am under construction.
I can lead the animals.
I need to back up.
I need to be assertive when I am right.  (?)

(?) My spirit guides are wandering around aimlessly because I am not giving them guidance by asking for guidance.  (?)

Advice from the deer spirit guide:  "listen, watch, pay attention, hide well, consider carefully irreversible decisions.  (WARNING BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP!)  Be a deer--a DEAR.  Or--you are a dear."

"An elk in a dream symbolizes strength and endurance.  You need to spend more time with friends and eat healthier food."  Boy do I

"Elk in a dream signify that you'll have no need to worry about your attraction and/or ability in regard to sexual relations."  I'm doing OK in that department, no concerns there.

Elk dreams relate to being in nature.  They point to the basics of life and longing for freedom and simplicity.  You need to roam about, you need wide open spaces, you need mental clarity and openness.  You need passion.  Elk are also symbolic of self-development and redemption.  Elk can be symbols of grace.

elk Graceful strength, versatile, or noble. Dreaming of this animal can represent:

• Having too much of one of these qualities, or that you could benefit by being less this way
• Not having enough of one of these qualities, or that you could benefit by being more like this
• Someone or something in your real life with whom you associate one of these qualities (an event, situation, threat, etc.)

For more clues, pay attention to what the animal was doing or any particular characteristic that stood out.

I was going to lead the elk BACK to captivity in my dream.  It seemed at the time to be the right thing to do.  But I FEEL LIKE A CAPTIVE IN MY LIFE soemtimes, separated from what I need by being in the city.

I need:

• freedom, freedom to roam about
• nature

These are things I do NOT have in abundance in my current life.

Elk, who are you?  Why are you in my dream?

I am I-sisis, EYE-sie-sis.  I am the spirit guide of the wild and open spaces, come to remind you of your need for freedom and clarity, for power and strength, for health and companionship, for being you, for holding your head up high.  I am strength and power, sexuality and creativity.  I am the she-goddess incarnate. Worry less, BE more.  Go make dinner!  SMILE!

Out of Control Dream/Dreamwork

Out of Control

Today, my mother is scheduled to die. 
She will swallow a lethal dose of poison. 
Her begging for death, her plans and schemes,
have finally paid off.  She will join my father at last.
Before she goes, I want to race to the nursing home
to say goodbye, to say "I love you."  But the roads are snowy
and slick.  A good foot of snow, packed to ice in spots.
As I turn to the left, up a long hill, the car slides
backwards, faster and faster, slipping into the left lane.
I panic, stab wildly around with my foot, can't find the brakes.
Cars fly past on both sides.  I slide out of control,
can't even steer into my own lane.  Finally,
I find the brake, pump it enough to slow the car, and start
back up the long hill toward my mother's death.
I am afraid I'll be late.  She'll already be gone
and all my love and goodbyes will stay unspoken,
sticking in the throat of my heart like tears.

Mary Stebbins Taitt
081107-1225-1b; 081107-1st

This is a dream I had this morning.  To honor the dream and request further dreams, I have made it into a poem. 

When I write my dreams down, I do it in the first person present.  By doing so, I discover things about myself and my current situation.  For example:

I want to say goodbye to my mother.  I am afraid I won't get to say goodbye.  My mother died in January 2007.  I was not with her when she died.  I feel sad about this.  I cried about it a little this morning.  I think every time I revisit it, and cry a little, I am healed a little.

I am out of control. I can't find the brakes.  My life often, if not always feels out of control.  I think this is my addictions speaking through me.  My ADHD makes me always behind on everything, all the time.  I feel overwhelmed on the best of days. 

I am afraid I will be late:  I try really hard not to be late, and sometimes I succeed and sometimes I don't.  ADHD again.

I am sliding backwards.  Backsliding.  I am gaining weight again and the holidays are approaching.  I need to get my eating under control before the holidays get here!!!

I am going the wrong way.  I am in the wrong place.  This is certainly true because I am gaining weight,  I also need to look at other ways where I am in the wrong place at the wrong time.  I want to get myself headed int he right direction.

I believe dream messages mean more than one thing--it's the subconscious's way of communicating with the conscious mind.  I believe we can heal and grow by paying attention to our dreams.  And I want to heal and grow.  Writing a poem from my dream is one way of dealing with it.  Doing art is another. 

Mom, I love you and miss you!  Goodbye, beloved Mom, Godspeed on your soul journey.  Say hi to Pa!  I love you, Miss you!  Goodbye!

OK, what is the right place?  Where do I want to be?  I want to turn it over, and listen for instructions.  Meanwhile, here is where I think I want to be:

1. lean and healthy and addition free (one day at a time)
2. happy and cheerful, enthusiastic, loving, engaged
3. in the bosom of my nuclear family and with friends
4. be creative
5. working on my writing and art projects in an organized way so that I can bring them to fruition:  Geraldine, Sissy, The woman who loved weeds etc.
6. Moving toward being organized and tidy (reasonably so)
7. continue on my healing journey toward radiant good heal inside and out.  LOL!
8. find a balance that pleases me.  Release being such a taskmaster to myself!
   

What steps to I need to take to get there?  One day at a time, easy does it. 

1. get back on track with my eating
2. get enough sleep (order a blue light, stop staying up late!)
3. make a friend locally.  Nurture love and family, friends.
4. continue working on my creative projects, but don't overdo it on any one day.
5. avoid switching projects until one is complete, if possible!  (Also hard for me)
   
6. Work out an organizational plan that will work for me.  (This has proved very hard.)
7. work on Twelve &, wings challenges etc.  (get into schedule/routine.)
8. Try to relax a little about all this.  Work at it EASY DOES IT, ONE DAY AT A TIME!

I'm feeling guilty writing all this because I have so much else to DO!!!  DANG!  OK, enough for now!

Out of Control

Out of Control

Today, my mother is scheduled to die from a lethal dose
of poison.  Her begging for death has finally paid off.
I want to get to the nursing home before she goes
to say goodbye, to say I love you.  But the roads are snowy
and slick.  As I turn to the left, up a long hill, the car slides
backwards, faster and faster, slipping into the left lane.
I panic, stab around with my toe, can't find the brakes.
Cars fly past on both sides.  I can't even steer
into my own lane. I slide out of control.  Finally,
I find the brake, pump it enough to slow the car, and start
back up the long hill toward my mother's death.
I am afraid I'll be late; she'll already be gone
and I won't get to say goodbye.

Mary Stebbins Taitt
081107-1st




I want to say goodbye to my mother.
I am out of control.
I am sliding backwards.  Backsliding.
I am going the wrong way.
I am in the wrong place.
I can't find the brakes.
I am afraid I will be late
I am afraid I won't get to say goodbye.
I am worried about my mother's death.