What it Means to Dream of Milkweed and Sunlight

"Not only are you
the shadow
that is dancing on the wall,
but you are the hand
that makes the shadow,
and you are the light."

~ Emmanuel ~

I have been here before,
But when or how I cannot tell.
I know the grass beyond the door,
The sweet keen smell, The sighing sound,
the lights around the shore.

~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti ~

(golden canopy, my back yard)

If we are only open to those discoveries
which will accord with what we already
know, we might as well stay shut.
~ Alan Watts ~

(green and gold, in my back yard)

Life is a gift, and it is yours to learn
how to receive, not to earn.
~ Lazaris ~


(Bittersweet [Celastrus scandens], climbing the columns that no longer hold anything up)


Once you understand the symbolic nature of physical reality,
then you will no longer feel entrapped by it.
You have formed the symbols, and therefore
you can change them.
~ Seth ~

( New England Asters, my side garden)

We have finally come to a place where we can read the symbols in our dreams, and use that interpretation to learn more about our waking selves, our waking lives. I think even the average person could give you a basic dream interpretation now, whereas a few years ago this was thought of as entirely "New Age" stuff (a term I abhor, by the way). Entire books have been written about dream symbology; how bodies of water represent the emotional life, for example, or a vehicle in which you travel signifies how you are making your way through your waking life. Before I divorced, I had nightmares in which I was riding in a car with my (then)husband; he was drunk, and driving recklessly, but we were going too fast for me to safely jump out. Of course, in real life my ex was "in charge" of where we were going, financially and otherwise, and the scenery whizzing past the windows was indeed frightening, as was the gas gauge on "empty." It was after my divorce, after I had gotten a new job and finally felt like I was again in charge of my own destiny when I realized I was back behind the wheel of my life, so to speak. In my dreams, I was driving. Sometimes a bicycle, sometimes a car, but I was behind the wheel(a.). I was choosing my own speed and direction, deciding when to stop to refuel.

Gill Edwards, in her book Living Magically, talks about the importance of remembering this concept in our waking lives. It is probably the single most important point connecting the metaphysical, "holistic" therapies with the evidenced-based Cognitive Behavior Therapy, of which I've written much elsewhere. We literally create our own reality with our thoughts. Somehow, so often, we forget this. We forget the three-fold law and the law of attraction and the inevitable consequences of "what we put out there." A good reminder, is to pretend that our waking life is a dream (as some have suggested, in point of fact, that it is), and interpret it the way we would interpret a dream.

Edwards' exercise:

1) Think of a situation, event or physical symptom you have experienced in the past few days. Write down this experience as if it were a dream. Try to ignore the clutter and detail, and look for the central themes or metaphors. Ask yourself why you created this experience. [...] Was it the mirror of your inner world -- your thoughts, beliefs, desires, emotions, fears, choices, or expectations? Was it guidance from your Higher Self? Or was it an opportunity to develop certain qualities -- such as unconditional love, forgiveness, inner peace, self-love....[...]
2) In the coming weeks and months, ask yourself as often as you can remember: 'Why am I creating this? Is it mirror, guidance, or opportunity? (b.)

_________________________________________________
a.) how fitting that the first car I purchased after my divorce was named "Escape." I still have it, and it's paid for. And if I'm going to use the exercise as above, I need to ask myself why, since about two months ago, the front, driver-side door only opens from the inside. hmmmm......

b.) Edwards, Gill, Living Magically: A New Vision of Reality. Piatkus Publishers, London, 1991. pg. 143.