The Forest Walk

[Scribbles]

I had a dream last night. In this dream I was suddenly in the body of an older man. Him and others were being marched forward through the forest using a well worn path.

This man had his hands folded over the back of his head, as did his son who was roughly 14-16 and had blonde long-ish hair, quietly following behind him. They were the two in the back of the line.

Several men with rifles and guns were ushering this group quietly forward. The men with guns looked very different - and were from the region, the others I don't believe they were. They appeared more to be tourists nor persons not raised in that region.

The man following up the rear was grumbling that his son was not walking fast enough, and he'd nudge him with the butt of the gun. The child was afraid, and trying his best to be calm, but his whimpering was bothering the man and he hit him harder until the child stumbled.

As his father, in the dream (I'm a woman in real life), I grew angry, turned, posed in a fighting stance... there were words and the gun pointing to the side of my sons throat. I turned, knew I needed to keep quiet. These men meant business.

My son fell, I turned and once again the man pulled him up, butted him with the gun and I had to keep from being angry, but I misspoke.. and turned smugly to rethink the verbal barb I had landed on this man.  See? I had no weapon but my wit, and they had no chance with that. 

The man with the gun saw the smile on my face, and even though he might of not understood my comment to him, he knew I was being ... overly confident.

Then I heard the shot... and I looked to see my son falling.  He had pointed the tip of the gun to the back of my son's neck, and pulled the trigger.  I fell to my knees, picking up my son and cradling him in my arms.

I woke up crying and I said something aloud that woke my own daughter ... I don't remember but I think it was the child's name.

The dream was vivid, and I could feel the tropical heat... I was sweating and hot as if I had been there... all along.

I remember the sounds, the smells, the colors. I remember the great pain of the father...

[Tony Crisp]

Scribbles - You were living, in your dream, a scene of strangers in a strange world, in which you experienced having no power and experienced the agony of a son's death at the hand of obvious vicious people.

But remember this is a dream, and you dealt with it as if it were an outer fact, and as if you were powerless except for your smile. See http://dreamhawk.com/dream-encyclopedia/examples-of-transforming-dreams/

You felt you were a victim, and that must be a part of what you believe if you dreamt it. Whenever we dream its images are not like real life, because a dream is nothing like outer life where things could hurt you, but is an image like on a cinema screen that even if a gun is pointed at you and fired it can do no damage – except if you run in fear. So all the things that scare you are simply your own fears projected onto the screen of your sleeping mind.

It is also important to realise that every image, every scary or terrifying thing, is taken place inside you, in your mind, as you sleep. This means that every awful animal, every scary thing or person, is created out of your own fears and must not be seen as outside you as happens in waking awareness. The problem is that we are often scared of or frightened of actually experiencing our emotions and so they confront us in our dreams. Avoiding them or controlling them is like running away from oneself – there is no escape. See http://dreamhawk.com/approaches-to-being/questions-2/#Victim

You can change this because most things we dream are the result of habits we are unconscious of. But habits can change so see http://dreamhawk.com/inner-life/habits/ and http://dreamhawk.com/dream-encyclopedia/secrets-power-dreaming/

But the dream was also a learning experience through realising your victim role, and also the feeling of huge loss.

Tony