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.

I'll have something from the light menu with a side of redemption

I have been so down, and so sore. I re-injured my back and the doctor I have been seeing for ten years would not see me because I am now on MaineCare. Mighty unfriendly, if you ask me. All my prescriptions ran out before I could get in to see the new doctor. I finally had my first appointment this past Friday, and not a moment too soon. I could barely stand up from pain (nor could i sit comfortably, or lie down, for that matter....) and was frustrated. And tired. Tired of being frustrated and tired. Perhaps the most demoralizing part of chronic pain is the effort it takes to pretend that you're not in it. Trying to keep functioning because you don't want to freak the kids out and you need to go to the job interview and you need to buy groceries but you're exhausted from not being able find a pain-free position in which you can sleep. Or sit. Or stand. When the doctor showed great empathy and started writing prescriptions for Prednisone and painkillers, and said she would get me in for an MRI and a pain specialist a.s.a.p., I couldn't help it -- I started crying. Sometimes great relief does that. It catches you by surprise. Sometimes you don't know how dark things have been until you find yourself blinking, gratefully, in the light.

photo by Joani N.
No, that's not a cane. It's a "hiking stick." Which for my
purposes just means it's a cane with a long handle
that I don't need insurance to pay for.

Our big tabby, Tucker, loves to walk with us. I live on a cul-de-sac dirt road that winds through the pine trees to the river. On either side are ditches of rainwater, blackberry brambles, milkweed. Dog and cat heaven, in other words. I've avoided our regular route the past week, because of my back pain and missing Dakota's exuberant, joyful presence. Snuffling through the fallen leaves, sampling ditchwater, racing around the meadow, this was Dakota's favorite part of the day. But today, the sun was shining and the smell of fallen leaves returning to the earth was delicious in the air. We walked down to the house by the river where no one lives, where the grass has grown long and the dogs love to roll around. Tucker follows along just like another dog, popping kitty wheelies to be petted, and purring in complete contentment.

Tucker leaning in for some love.
photo by Joani N.

Me and my man Tim.
Photo by Joani N.

After lunch we got the call to come pick up my newest foster, Chilibean. Chili is being returned to the rescue after living with a family in Vermont for ... a while. Apparently, it wasn't working out. Out of respect for the family who will likely never in a million years read this blog, I won't say much more than that. I will just say that I'm proud to be part of a rescue group that can, in less than a few hours, organize a transport chain of four drivers to get a sad, lonely little dog who's been tied out all day to a new foster home two states away where he can sleep indoors, have fresh food and water, hugs and kisses, and walks down a dirt road bordered with milkweed and blackberry brambles. The other volunteers know I'm having a back issue right now and to prevent me having to sit in a car for any length of time made sure they got him to the turnpike exit that's a mere 10 minutes from my house.

Chilibean. A.K.A. Chilly-Willie. Chill-Bill. Mr. Bean.
Beanie-Weenie. The Ween. The Bean. Teeny.


SUBJECT MUCH CUTER THAN HE APPEARS IN PHOTO.

Pictured here wearing the latest in phlorescent harness fashions for those walks during hunting season in New England, is Chilibean. Half Chihuahua, half Miniature Pinscher, Chilibean has the most beguiling features each breed has to offer. The apple head and soft flippy ears of the chihuahua set on the more sturdy, bi-colored min-pin body. He doesn't just walk or trot, he prances. Except for when he's chasing a cat, and then he FLIES! With unwavering focus! Well, to be more clear - Chili Bean LOVES the cats and is just being friendly. Several of my more dog-savvy cats know to just stand there and let him sniff them and he's happy as pie. Two of the other cats RUN, which makes Mr. Bean think he is supposed to chase them! What fun! Aside from these harmless shenanigans, Chili-Willy is a true lap dog; he'd rather be sitting on you than be anywhere else. He stands on his hind legs to ask to be picked up. He is eager to please and to learn new tricks. I don't think he's been worked with much, but with a little time and training he could be the star of the agility team's midget division, I just know it!

Yesterday, both he and I were truly at the end of our ropes. Today? We both got a little reminder of what the world looks like when the sun shines. And how grateful I am to know that it still can.