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Dream Interpretation / Snakes

« on: March 18, 2016, 02:55:06 PM »

I dreamed there were lots of snakes coiled up on the floor of my kitchen.  I saw one large snake eat another one headfirst.  My tiny dog (Otis, no more with me) was very brave trying to drive out the snakes by barking and snapping his teeth at them, but the snakes were much larger than my dog, and I was afraid for him.  I yelled at him to come away.  I lifted my chest and tilted my face up and howled just as loud as I could to try to overcome the quiet-voice of dream.  I was terrified my little dog would be swallowed up.

I saw my dad in a wheelchair, which was a terrible feeling.  I do not like to remember my dad as frail.  I warned him about the snakes in the kitchen.  I was afraid for him, too.

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General Discussion / Alien Invasion

« on: January 24, 2016, 06:36:50 PM »

Hi Tony.  It's been a long while since visiting the site, but I had a dream I felt was perfect for your talents in reading.  To preface, I have raised and enjoyed chickens for about 25 years.  My current dog companion is black and white and named Zoe, and she's by my side 24 hours a day. The black Lab was my dear Hannah who died of cancer about 5 years ago.  I still miss her. The farm property in the dream was my childhood home.    Here's the dream:

An invasion of Earth by aliens….I have to save our animals.  I don’t know where I’m going, only know I want to gather up my chickens and dogs, but I can’t carry them all.  My heart is breaking because I have to leave some of them behind.  I am flying over the farm property.  I scoop up my most beloved, my dog Zoe.   Despite her being too large, I fly with her cradled in my arms.  I keep looking back at my hens and my black Labrador, grieving the loss.

Thank you. 

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Questions about dreams / Time and Dreams

« on: May 27, 2014, 05:34:08 PM »

How can I tell if my dream is about something in my past that needs attention, something developing in the present, or images, perhaps, meant to inspire or instruct?

Sometimes, I think I know.  For example, I recently had a dream that featured a tower in ruins and a dilapidated railway.  I felt these were about my past attitudes.  Other times, I have a dream that provides a sense of spiritual awakening like when I dreamed of the elating and inspiring flight of pure white cranes.  In that case, is it a hope only?   While I rationally and consciously adhere to conventions of Time, I believe Time is relative in the quantum sense for the Unconscious.  I have read the article about Time and Dreams,  http://dreamhawk.com/dream-encyclopedia/time-and-dreams/, but I am wondering if there is anything about the context, contents or quality of a dream that might help me orienteer.  How should I look at Time in a dream?

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Dream Interpretation / The Two Powers: Accept All that You Are

« on: May 16, 2014, 03:27:17 PM »

Dear Tony, I am frustrated with the ET mind, the one you write about in the article about aliens in dreams, the Life Will vs the Conscious Will.  I hope I am using your terms properly so that we have an understanding across these waves.  I will copy my dream here from my online journal, so you have an inkling what has prompted my frustration.  I tried to follow your link to The Two Powers: Accept All that You Are, but it doesn't work.  Maybe after reading the dream, you can send me to a source that offers advice for meeting with the aliens, meeting with the ET mind and coming to some kind of agreement or, at least, some arrangement in which my Conscious Will is not so affronted by what, extending the metaphor, functions as an abduction.  Thank you for your time and any advice you may offer.  ~Kecia

I dreamed again.  I am sleeping in bed when I wake up startled next to my husband.  I feel bad for waking him again, although the first time was in waking life not dream life, so the disturbance was moot.  He doesn’t get up, but I do, and I notice something strange in our bedroom.  The room is like a cave with three walls, the fourth side open to the outside.  The floor is a hard, clay-like substance.  One side of the room is a slope that runs from floor to ceiling.  On this sloping wall is a small channel about six inches across running vertically.  At the top is a hole from which I suppose water sometimes flows down the channel into a drain on the floor.  What is strange is that water is flowing UPWARD from the hole in the floor, flowing up the channel and disappearing down into the hole at the top.  I am amazed and have to wake my husband to show him.  I recall that I exclaim over the fact of the upward movement of the water.

I assume it must be flooding from elsewhere, too much water in the ground so that the sump isn’t working.  My mind is searching for a solution to the upward flow of the water, you see.  Then the water from the floor drain exceeds the capacity of the little channel, at least I reason this is the cause, and water begins to flow across the hard floor, spreading in a dark patch.  I look to the bed, worrying that it will be soaked.  The bedspread that touches the floor at a corner is getting wet and acting like a wick.  There’s an odd vision I have of a black leopard forming from the dark, spreading water, although I doubt myself now.  Then a cat with two kittens is fighting with the leopard, which will easily kill the cat, but I didn’t see what happened.

I go in search of a view of the sky.  The three-walled cave forms the end of a wash or gully, an arroyo with water and wind sculpted sandstones for walls.  I don’t like my view blocked, and I feel like if I can see the sky again, I can find some answers to the upward flow of the water.  I walk along the walls of this little canyon, searching for a way upward.  I finally find a place easy enough to climb.  Behind me, I know my husband doesn’t want me to go into danger, but I really need to see the sky.  I climb out of the gully into desert country at the top of a high, sloping cliff of sandstone and chaparral.  As my husband had predicted, I begin to slide out of control.  I’m not afraid of falling; it’s the landing that worries me.

I fall very rapidly, sliding with my back to the slope, my eyes cast down toward my feet, studying what is coming up, judging whether a stone will hold my rushing weight or not.  As obstacle after obstacle is loosened or passed by, I begin to worry about my speed and the inevitable fall at the end.  Finally, though, I see a boulder that must surely hold me, and it does.  I am stopped not far from the floor of a wide chaparral.  Behind me and stretching to left and right is the ridge of boulders from whence I just fell.

My husband and a friend arrive.  We must, for some reason, hike along the edge of this ridge, looking for a way back?  In any case, I gather up my belongings that have scattered in the fall.  I have my two, steel truck keys on a simple ring, and I have an iphone and some other things I don’t identify.  I scoop them into a stretchy knit cap for carrying across the desert.  I want to scoop that cap into another and then another.  My husband is impatiently striding ahead with his friend.  I am dawdling behind, juggling with my belongings.

Because I am behind, I see them first, the aliens.  There is only one at first.  He’s very tall, eight feet or more, wearing a mask like this one worn by Leia (At my original blog, there's a link to a picture).  He’s wearing a bandoleer and carrying a long, rifle-like weapon, which he is pointing at me.  I call ahead to the others, alerting them that a strange and dangerous person is here.  I can’t remember the exact words, although it was a clear warning in the dream.  My warning doesn’t help because more of the aliens are already upon us from the right where the ridge we have been following slopes downward becoming passable again.  The first alien tells the later ones that he has detected wifi, which makes me realize they found us by tracking my phone carried in the knit caps.

With their weapons, the aliens indicate we should keep moving ahead of them toward a town.  I keep expecting something terrible to happen, to be enslaved or dissected.  Some of the townspeople wander out to greet and casually welcome us from the desert.  The humans are not unusual, and the town seems to function like any human town.  I only notice one, unusual individual, a person of unknown gender who wears a half-mask.   S/he has a blunt, cigar-like device which s/he fits into her mouth to puff.  Her/his jaw protrudes like a chimpanzee’s, and the visual disturbs me, but s/he is the only one so I disregard the oddity as the three of us enter the town to look around, presumably to live there.

We are no longer escorted by the aliens.  In a subtle fashion, this role is taken over by various humans who introduce us around.  We walk down a street past a building with a lighted, futuristic sign that reads USA:ISHIO or USA:ISHO, something like that.  Here, we all presume to enter when a door is opened, rolling upward like a garage door.  We step forward, but the door immediately rolls down, barring us from entering.  On the other side of the door, we have a glimpse of a dignified man in a kimono.

Our party now consists of a leader-type, a man straight out of an action cartoon, the type that is the old veteran leading the newbs into battle.  There is also an Asian woman who explains why the door was shut in our faces.  She tells our leader he has to bow first if he wants to enter.    Our leader does so, and the door opens, but only he can go in.  The rest of us wait outside for him.

Lounging outside the door are three, brawny men, Scandinavian types.  I ask how it happened to be that twelve men, all of the same physique and type, were imprisoned at the same time.  In this way, I learn that there are more of these men and that, prior to coming to the village, they were in prison and escaped from there.  They only shrug in response, yet I know that they are rebels against whatever is going on secretly in the village and that they would break free if they could.  Their dissent worries me because it strengthens my suspicions that all is not as it seems.

My point of view changes, and I am watching what happens to the leader in a dark alley.  Some men bring him face to face with another man with henchmen alongside him.  The leader grows more and more wary as the gap between closes.  Then the henchmen grab hold of our leader and begin to perform unspeakable manipulations to his face, stretching it, altering it, all in the most painful ways.

Another point of view change, and I am watching the party that was left behind.  They are in a room when the leader is returned.  His entire body is bloated beyond recognition with tissues stretched and contorted in hideous ways.  He has a single eye the size of his head in roughly the place where his face once was.  Limbs of dubious function jut in random and unexpected places.  The enormous eye blinks.  Without a moment of pause, everyone in the room scrambles away in panic from this grotesquerie.  He is screaming, if it can be called that because there’s no mouth.  He shouts for revenge against the ones who have done this to him.

At this point, the image is so awful that I feel like I’ve simply had enough of this ridiculousness, so I wake up.  In my waking moments, I begin to realize the grotesquerie was cartoonish, and I really resent my dream mind for showing it to me!

5

Dream Interpretation / Three Dreams of Eyes

« on: May 10, 2014, 07:08:05 PM »

Dear Tony, I have had a series of dreams all involving my eyes, along with one or other repeated elements, and I have been working hard to understand them.  Dreamhawk has been an invaluable resource for me and, last night, I came across your article for "Heal Healer and Healing," a virtual jewel, as you will understand if you read the dreams below.  I suspect the dreams may have something to do with my seasonal allergies, which make my eyes tear and itch , among other symptoms, although I am keeping an open mind in case I am led elsewhere by studying the images.  As I said, I have already many thoughts and feelings about these dreams, but any comments you would make would be very helpful to me.  If you will, I thank you ahead of time, and I apologize already for the length of the dreams!  ~Kecia

Dream 1: Place of Healing
In one scene, I am in a house with a group of people, casual friends and relatives, loosely arrayed through the rooms, a living room, dining, somewhere a bathroom and kitchen.  A man, I think, suggests playing a game we all know.  A little girl about seven is volunteered to operate the light switches.  In the game, the lights are turned off, someone hides, then all the others find him or her.  From the beginning, I don’t want to play.  I’m introverted and extremely reluctant to play any game in which I’m being hunted, especially in the dark.  I have a terrible dread, even, of threading through the group in the dark to find a hiding place.  I run to the bathroom, tears beginning on my face.  I shut the door to keep everyone out.  My tears become true weeping, sobs.  I see myself in a mirror, my eyes streaming with tears, nose running.  Someone enters, someone trying to draw me back into the game, but I continue to refuse.  I run away, out the door of the bathroom, out of the house.

Outside, I run across open fields toward a road.  A friend of mine has a boyfriend who rides a motorcycle.  Her boyfriend, along with two of his friends, are riding their cycles on this road.  The boyfriend picks her up, and I am offered a ride, too, to get away from the family and friends who want me to play the game.  The man who gives me a ride is familiar as if I’ve seen him in dreams before.  He’s a slender man, 50s, handsome, tallish, charismatic~silent in this dream, focused only on driving with a passenger on back.  The boyfriend of my friend was a stouter man with black hair and beard.

We ride to a clinic, a place of healing.  There’s a mural-sized painting along one wall.  Its subject is a group of women, maybe a few men?  It’s hard to tell for sure because they are all robed classically, and the faces are not distinct.  I study the painting carefully in my dream.  The figures are reclining, and all their faces, although too fuzzy to identify, give the distinct impression of sensual satisfaction.  The boyfriend of my friend is the “doctor” of this place, and it is he who escorts me and explains that the painting is a masterpiece.  I thought it was not so much a masterpiece as it was saloon art.

I’m very suspicious of this place we’ve come for healing.  I protest against hospitals and doctors in general, something about how they have always nearly killed me whenever I’ve been treated in or by one.  I think my words were “brought nearly to death!”  My fears are allayed, however, as I realize the boyfriend/doctor is a naturopath.  His only treatment of me is to place warm gel/stone pads on my back and face.  For this, I lie belly down on a bench like a weight bench.  One pad goes on my lower back.  I love this one because it relieves the pain in my lumbar region. (which hurts IRL!).  The other goes to my cheek, but this one is uncomfortable and transforms into a many-pronged device of metal with rubber tips that I eventually must remove because it’s digging into my face, my eye possibly.

Dream Two: The Suite
Another scenario also involved my eye.  The first image I remember is in a house again.  There are several bedrooms shared by a group of young women.  There are relationships between the women, sisters, I think.  I have a single room, some have double.  I’m looking for my bathroom scale, but I have to borrow the scale of the others, two sisters.  Their scale is wonky and is in the shower stall.  I brush aside a curtain to stand on it, and it shows me at 180 pounds, which can’t be right at all.  I go in search of a better scale.

In the hallway between rooms, I’m confronted by a man who thinks I’ve taken his scale.  I tell him that’s impossible, that I had purchased the one I have well after moving into this house or, rather, suite of young women.  I feel as if that proved my point to everyone.  Sometime during this conversation, a person has raised their hand, finger pointed, and I walked into the finger, eye-first.  I jump back in pain, injured.  My eye is weeping, swollen.  Although it seems minor at first, I realize it has become worse, nearly swelling shut and very painful.  Tears stream.  A man comes to give me aid, and I try to behave as if the injury is not so bad but, although I try, I can’t face him with two open eyes.  One (the right) is too tightly swollen.

Dream Three: Witch with Frog Eyes
I’m approaching an open, 2nd story window.  Outside, the sky is the color of evening.  There’s a woman at the window, suspended in air.  She seems to be a witch.  Her eyes are enormous, frog-like, with orange sclera (the white of the eye).  Her irises were a distinct color, although I can’t remember what it was, as were mine.  As I come near, she magically steals my irises and switches them with hers.  Then she flies off with my eyes now the center of the luminous, orange, frog-like sclera, and I am left with her strange irises!