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Topics - Monica

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Dreamhawk site feedback and suggestions / on living forever (& thanks!)
« on: October 12, 2019, 01:01:18 PM »
Hi dear Tony

It's been a long time but I'm here to thank you once again (I always thanks God for your wise insights that always come to my life in the more precise way and time). I've recently read your post
and I can't tell anything else than thank you for such a loving, profound lesson on humility and the wonders of life (with death as a core where all of it covers a real meaning).
It's been fabulous to read such balanced, clear and enlightening document, and as the mistery of life is alive (call it synchronicity or revelation, it's equal as you also masterfully said, "God and Big-Bang could be the same"), I read your post after having studied this Scriptures:

For thou hast possessed my reins:
thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb.
I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made:
marvellous are thy works;
and that my soul knoweth right well.
My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret,
and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.
Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect;
and in thy book all my members were written,
which in continuance were fashioned,
when as yet there was none of them.
How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God!
how great is the sum of them!
If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand:
when I awake, I am still with thee. (Psalm 139)

Thanks and Hugs in the Spirit!

General Discussion / on "the virgin soul"
« on: February 08, 2019, 11:07:33 AM »
Hi, dear Tony. Here to say a thanks and greeting this cicle anew.  :)

I began the year with a weird mix of a tranquil yet troubled mind (tranquil when awake and troubled in dreams) and for some reason began to feel very anxious, maybe accumulated tiredness. Some weeks ago, after having early prayed my prayers and maybe because the way I use to forget putting up the big issues and worries, I kept feeling anxious. Things were getting far more chaotic than I can handle and I was about to fall in the old ways of looking for the easy, superficial method to erase anxiety (I used to have an OCD but I can say God blotted it out when I began to confide everything to Him); so, the point is Universe is so connected and He provides such incredible and simple solutions to us, that's the reason I had to tell this: When I was about to engage in drifting through the internet and ending up wallowing in old vices, God  brought to mind all those troubled dreams, I briefly thought "What would Tony say about this?" and as I typed whatever in the navigator He put the post https://dreamhawk.com/dream-encyclopedia/the-christmas-story/ right in front of  my eyes in a moment I just looked for a distraction and reluctantly thought about anything with my blurred mind (yet, that's the importance of having people like you, sharing profound contents in the web and even sharing themselves and not superficial and incoherent entertainment).

On reading this I felt delighted and gratefully recalled a response you posted for a dream I wrote last year, and remembered with awe the magnificent ways of the virgin soul and the archetype so wisely described there. The poem you quoted at the end was like the answer to that question my soul anxiously asked and I found difficult to put in words because, as the Bible says, "26 Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. 27 And he that searcheth the hearts knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit, because he maketh intercession for the saints according to the will of God." (Romans 8 ). That poem also reminded me the chant of the virgin Mary, saying "Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word."

I just wanted to say God bless that marvelous Spirit that speaks through your words! a big hug in the Spirit!

Dreamhawk site feedback and suggestions / A big hug
« on: July 24, 2018, 04:14:15 AM »
Just to say hi and thank you so much!

(Clumsy thing to say -I'll say it anyway-:
I keep on dreaming a lot, and I keep
thinking of you any time, filled with
gratitude and awe for all this magic you
provide through the site. Blessings!)


A big hug in the Spirit!

hi there!
There's a certain phrase that for some time reached the weight of a sentence in my life, when this boy told me -he thought I was misjudging and making assumptions about him because of some confidences he told to me- a very loaded and prejudiced: "I'm not that one of your dreams!" (I had also confided him my thoughts and dreams about "us"); and curiously he repeated this at least a couple of times again, when he felt accused. As Tony points out on many posts and answers, of course it's almost obvious when we talk about a dream we aren't assuming -or at least we don't do it on purpose- that we can somewhat foretell what a person would do, even worse their hidden agendas. But for some reason this person began to feel kind of menaced with the possibility of being exposed by the things revealed when we talked about our dreams, even though I wasn't by any means attempting to predict neither his behaviour nor the future, which was absurd and unreasonable he could be dubious about (it was far easier for me to go and ask in real life to the people who knew him and I could have guessed a lot more; that was the strange thing about the paranoia he displayed). It reached the point of serious confrontations and he finally went away when things became monstruous in reality (things he couldn't explain but made evident he was hiding injurious stuff), saying he was scared (of things he had done first, using them at the beginning of the relationship to approach me and to get my confidence). So I'm persisting on referring to this because I've been trying to find peace about the issue, and some days ago you interpreted a dream in a way that showed me that maybe there was a reason for this boy to feel uneasy after all, because of course not mine, but his own dreams had been telling a lot about what was him all about. I mean, now I know a dream can clearly say a lot about a person, and he didn't take them so seriously until it came the day he saw maybe he had told "too much". And it nevertheless should be unvelied if there's something to taking notice of. So here's a second and final dream he told and I'm extremely interested on it because it seems to have revealed long before things happened, the way he was dealing with some issues he never wanted to talk about when he left. If you could please give me a hand with this, It'd be awesome!

"Fishing (GREEN)
September 15

It involved a beach, a harbor, maybe it was one of those cities crossed by a river, like Manhattan, maybe. It's like a competition under the Brooklyn bridge, a race without a cause. There are two boats in the water trying to catch a huge fish. Two strong sailors, conventional, the Popeye type of heavy hand are in one of the boats. In the other it was me with a faceless female companion, that kept unknown the whole time; everything pointed out that I had a relationship with her, or that was what I understood. The contest started. The fish was so strong that tugged both of the boats, it was a real Hercules, the Jack LaLanne of fishes. Nature imposed itself; the fish had gripped the two baits and was carrying us at its mercy, it was almost nothing what anyone could do facing the colossal animal.
The girl tried to harpooning it while the men in the other boat tried to shoot it, but any attempt was in vain, nothing and no one could resist it. When all of us had given up and the only thing left was to waiting for the worse to come, the incredible speed with which the fish had driven us until then began to gradually diminishing. The fish was getting slowly exhausted and eventually it seemet not having any direction at all. We, also tired, let ourselves be drifted away with no resistance by the fish'es weird behaviour. We didn't know what had happened but the beast ended up crashing against a dock. Everyone got off the boats, to picking up the fish, we all wanted to know what kind of animal had defeated all of our efforts. I myself brought it out the water and we were all surprised by seeing it wasn't as monstrous as we had thought. It was an ordinary fish, a tuna, it was big yes, but not huge as it seemed. All of us were somewhat disappointed, some way we wanted to think it could possibly be a fish the size of a whale or so. I had already gotten back into my boat and everyone was getting ready to depart from there, to try their luck some other place, with no remorses, when one of them noticed that the animal still moved its eyes, only the eyes. It looked scared and about to die, or maybe just confused and bewildered by the blow. All of them watched at it with disdain, with no emotion at all, without feeling a bit moved by those eyes looking around trying to find some answer to its cruel situation. I left the boat and cut its tail with a big knife. Not showing any sign of pain, without a feeling of being attacked on it, I kept  slaughtering the fish, drunk with a sudden delirium, by the bliss of seeing that body being divided into big slices. The fish didn't seem conscious of what was going on, its eyes weren't altered facing the butchery, they just stared above, to that greyish sky, dirty blue as of a laundry room, no sun, just clouds, only smooth clouds surrounding us to the horizon. That was the colour of anything, our clothes, the boats, our faces, the water, the city, the harbor. The only thing that seemed to have a life there were those startled eyes, those eyes that were slowly extinguishing. In the end the reason for such ravage was sharing, so no one said a thing while I did it, all of them seemed to be at one with the necessary act of violence I was commiting. The slices were distributed, the head was thrown into the water, with its yet unquiet eyes, we shook hands, and the day went on, nearing its end. The girl and I entered a door across the harbor where we striked. It was a sort of infirmary, a rare hospital ward with no patients, not any waiting. Two nurses attended us inmediately: she was taken to a common surgery, nothing to remark, and it was then when I saw her for the last time, that woman with whom I had no connection at all. I kissed her goodbye, the door closed after her and I went walking escorted by the other nurse to another surgery. The place had the appearance of a minimalist maze, with vast corridors which seemed not having an end and pale greenish walls that didn't reach a ceiling to their height, everything got lost up there in an odd dimness. After a long walk through an aisle with a huge picture window which allowed the grey light of day in, we arrived to a closed room, lit by a yellow bulb that permeated the room with an even more unpleasant green. The nurse asked me the routine questions and some others in relation to a trip; apparently we were undergoing some health control tests so they could be sure we wouldn't travel with some rare disease. In a moment all seemed to be darkening, the light bulb dimmed its energy in a to-ing and fro-ing of electricity, and the nurse asked me to get up and to standing in front of the stretcher. Yes, a prostate examination, painless, impersonal as it may be. The nurse concluded it and I went out from there, with no sensation of humanity at all, neither the feeling of a breaching, not any suggestion of corporality. I went back by the picture window's aisle and everything was tainted by that green. Outside there was a beacon which beamed a white light amid a night still not fully dark; a dusk seeped of a green light. Green only. Everything green.
the  windEste
Opening (eatingmyfingers)
September 25

This is the video, one of my late childhood memories; now, in recalling this, I remember it was such the horror that game made me feel that the only thing that could soothe my phobia was praying until I fell asleep. And the more my brother played that game the more I prayed. Oddly enough, even though I had a fatal panic everytime he came and turned the game on, at the same time I wanted to see, I eagerly wished to be frightened. Ha! some time after that it followed the women clippings. How crazy. Now I see it somewhat ridiculous, that japanese terror that turns out to be a bit naive, but nevertheless carries me away to a lot of moments from the past... Now I understand why in my dreams characters look so digital. Sometimes so false that they are disconcerting. And it comes to mind the yesterday's dream, this time in that short form of a nightmare: I was eating my fingers, cutting them with my teeth and furiously tearing them off from my hands, barely to the distal phalanx, with the insane hope of having them grown again, renewed. In a moment the dream came into conflict with reality, as if it was getting very close to an experiential notion that caused me to believe the thing taking place in that world was transferring from that dimension into this. I checked my fingers out carefully when I woke up and I kept repeating to myself: NO, fingers can't grow back.

Yes, this dream I had last night. And mother has just told me the one she had: she said that my brother arrived and touched her back and she, somewhat frightened, and also annoyed, said to him: Hey, don't scare me Lin, you are dead. We laughed about it, I don't know why, because it was a dream I suppose, nothing else. And she pointed out to this picture I have in my room, and said that was the way he touched her, as in this image:"


Healing Dreams / the promised miracle
« on: March 28, 2018, 02:02:38 AM »
I and other family members have been dreaming for long of a sort of miraculous unfolding about the life of dear grandma; of course we had all thought the "usual" promise we relate to miracles, the one that gets the sick off their beds and back to life sort of thing; but now I think I know what's the most astounding miracle we could ever witness. For a month grandma went through complications on her health condition. I've been taking care of her along with mom since I came back home, because she's suffered from Alzheimer for more than a decade. Now I know it's been a hidden blessing, to go through all those hard times, to learn patience, loving compassion, to heal. The morning of March 21st one of my sisters found her unconscious, we ran to the hospital and they said her lungs, heart and kidneys were getting worse because of an infection. Standing there by grandma's side, in front of that bed, prayind and waiting, I got asleep and dreamed of an upside-down, blue little chair; it was on the right side, bending over the pillow, near her head. I awoke immediatly. It was 4Pm.

This sunday I went to the hospital to watch for her in the morning, hoping the next day we could take her home again (doctors had said it was very little what they could do but ending the treatment for the infection). She looked finally peaceful, quiet and warm. I came beside her to make a prayer, then I noticed that, after all this time, I'd finally get the point (Tony helped me out a lot with this on his answer in a previous post). In our family we suffered because her condition was really difficult to deal with, so we had the idea she was suffering as much as we perceived the illness just as a disabling condition. But now I think we finally realized and learned the other side of the situation: As much as we perceived her health condition as a problem, we couldn't fully receive what she had been giving us all of this time, as a real gift to our lives: She was showing us the real face of love and caring, the importance of not just taking care of things, persons and situations, but to grasp the real meaning of it all by bringing compassion and awareness to all of our daily experiences, to our relationships.

So, Jesus be blessed, I began giving praise and thanks to Him, for giving us this opportunity in our lives, and also giving her a big "thank you, beloved grandma", because it was not me, it was you who took care of me for all this time... With her loving gestures and songs, her words, her company while I was along with her in the short but nevertheless everlasting moments when grooming and cleaning her, feeding her, helping her to walk from one room to the other, or just sitting there. She was the laughter and the sharing and also the focus of watchful attention for us all, as a little and playful child. I just don't know, and beg the Spirit of God to help me out with this, how to get her to know I do really thank her a thousand and one times for all the things she taught to me, the precious gift she was. I'll miss a lot her blessings every night, and the constant whining or greetings every hour of the day. I'm happy I said those thanks even though she was asleep, short before 10:01am, when I saw her heaving a last sigh... then I saw her chest went still, and the air stopped in her nose and mouth. It's a vision I cannot describe, really. Exactly as a dream, it's blurred as I try to say in words. I ran to ask a doctor what was that, I couldn't believe it. But yes, she had passed away, sleeping as the little child I tucked into bed every night, in an endless chatter with herself, me, God... I know she's now getting back all of those wonderful memories she seemed having lost one day, and those she helped us out to build so we could reunite someday ih heaven!
The only thing that's so hard to understand is why I feel as I lost her, if she's now everywhere, in all we do, in every place she used to be... I don't know what to do tomorrow, because she filled my days, even though I know now she's the pure love I learned being with her... Why I keep on thinking I could've done a lot more for her, if I know she was grateful and happy with what we did... I just think I'd still like to say thank you and kiss her a lot because the times I did weren't enough. Why is this missing so hard? I know now she's in the most wonderful place, but I'd like to hear her singing again... The only thing I can do is love the way she taught me to, the love we usually don't look for, a real, selfless love -which in fact is a love that makes everything complete-. Grandma fulfilled a great mission in life!

Dear God bless all of these wonderful women!
( Thanks and Blessings Tony!)

Dream Interpretation / dinosaur (someone else's dream)
« on: March 19, 2018, 04:32:23 AM »
Dear Tony

I've been having profuse dreams that brought back a question left in the air since the first approaches I had to dream interpretation, which has been greatly assisted by your wonderful site. I can't simply tell about the dictionary, because any and all of the posts I've read since the site was presented to me by my sister for the first time have been in synch with my wonderings. Reading back some important notes I had I found this dream along with links taken from here. The thing was I found these dreams someone else wrote to me time ago, hoping to get them interpreted, which we tried along using a pair of dictionaries (so bad I didn't know yours then). I'm still really curious, I'd love to find out about them because they happened to be powerful to me and I see them now as containing important stuff about this person's relationship with what occurred to us both at particular times. Also I've been thinking on the triptych qualities of my dreams, not just in their narratives but in the way they evolve in time. But right now I'm begging you to help me to sort of decode this dream I was told years ago... Here's the transcription:

Dinosaur (Blues)
1 august

"Yesterday night I dreamed of you again, finally. It's been long since I did, I didn't dream anything, everything was black and it was all, I'd wake up without any image. But my prayers were fulfilled at last and you appeared... We were at university, of course, and some peers were presenting  their work; I don't know what was all about, but it had to do with animals. One of them had made a dinosaur, it was huge, incredibly big, as if it was real. But it wasn't really as the ones from Jurassic Park; it reminded me of one of those toy dinosaurs made of an odd rubber, garish. The one we were watching was red on its back and displayed a gradation on its skin that ended as a yellow on the paws. I suppose it's an image from my infancy: I used to have those kind of toys, I remember them well. But with those dimensions it looked terrible, it was an awful work; we were asked to share our opinion and you kicked it saying it was horrible. It was funny, the guy got really annoyed so we went running far from there. In spite of the feeling of being at the campus, there were very strange places, unreal, as those of fairy tales. We arrived to a forest, we held each other's hand and began to walk  into it, somewhat fearful, but blissful about having an excuse to be alone and holding hands, all of this without looking at each other directly, without exchanging stares. There were leaves everywhere, yes, dry leaves that crackled under our feet. We went out that beautiful forest and bumped into a schoolmate of mine who I think is a ballet dancer now, named T. It seemed you both knew each other well, but with regards to me he just remembered me vaguely. He was very surprised to see us holding hands, he felt happy for us. We had a short talk: we spoke about imagination, about embracing so many ideas into a single work, in an only significant gesture. We conclude the conversation and go to the "26th street exit" (the weird 26th's exit). It was quite late, the sky had that purplish-blue color that I fancy so much to looking at, covering it all with a crepuscular aura, making the tones grow colder, making yellow turn to green, invading the figures with a rare feeling of gloom, the one that brings to mind this city, that doesn't really make for a warm and sunny town because it's not its true nature; no, I always paint this city that way, with a color palette between gray and blues, a Picassian blue, the city bathed with a drizzle slowly glazing its dirty streets, the abandoned retail shops, the cheap advertising, the buses and street vendings, all the pedestrians without exception, from businessmen to the destitute, everyone soaked by that blue of the sky that seems to carry all of our hopes away in the air. The first lightposts were already beginning to turn on when we arrived to the highway.  An impulse pushed me to take you into my arms and I slowly drew near your mouth. You seemed gone, having lost any strength, and had let yourself fall upon my hands. I, staggering, tried to hold you with the little strength I still had, getting as near as for my lips to touch yours. And we stayed that way for a while, as the blue dimmed and your face's warmth made me to forget the frozen wind that ran through. I could barely see your sleepy eyes, hardly looking at them with my moribund eyes. All of a sudden, you came back recovered, don't really know well, and you ran away towards the road, without a thought about the risks. From the sidewalk I could see how your earrings went flying and remained hovering in circles, as if escaping from gravity.   [(35:16) Untouchable.] You ended up crossing the highway miraculously, and my legs began running after you, trying to reach your slippery earrings which floated like feathers. Cars drove passing over me, crossing through my body, and I'd finally begin to understand what was happening: we were ghosts, bodiless spirits, insubstantial; the world wouldn't affect us anymore, we were already dead. I picked up your earrings, and holding them I got through to the other side, searching for you like a lunatic. I watched you lying on the floor, stunned about not knowing what had happened, still weak. I made an attempt to lift you from the floor but then you recovered quickly and put me into your arms. I would repeatedly kiss your head, as you kissed my chest non-stop. It was a total embrace, not out of strength as it was before, on the contrary, we clinged to each other as if the world ended in our bodies, as if we wanted our lives to be an only one. And I woke up, tangled in my blankets, holding my pillow tight, in the midst of an inexplicable shudder."

This post I find related with the dream depicted here: https://dreamhawk.com/dream-encyclopedia/dream-lovers/

Healing Dreams / strangling a voice
« on: March 09, 2018, 04:02:56 AM »
Hi again Tony  ::)

About a week before grandma had this strong decline in her health I had a dream that in some sort of way was a sequel for a process I began on "revisiting" dreams and real life situations acting them on in the dream context with the idea of healing in mind. What keeps me wondering is the fact that there were lots of interesting anticipating signals that brought me to a scenario I've not experienced for a long time: a loved one's death; and this particular dream came along with all of it. I don't really know how to classify it, it's the kind of dream that happens as if it was a waking experience, resembling the exact environment, placement and situation you're in that same moment. It's happened before but, as I've read happens with this type of dreams, this time I don't end up waking after a struggle to breathe or feeling I can't scream under an apparently terrifying threat (always in supernatural circumstances).
This time it happens as if I'm awakening because there's a "voice" (with no clear origin or body) that begins to quietly mutter words that I just don't get. It's a feminine voice behind me, I know for sure. I "open" my eyes and let the chatter continues as I get aware of my posture, the darkness of the room, the place the voice "comes" from... So I realize it's whispering just behind my right ear; then I feel it's something that's trying to make me scared with its persistence, so I begin repeating "In the name of Jesus", over and over, and some other few words as if on prayer, admonishing the thing to get out of here. This time the prayer is so consistent that I manage to "get up", then I use the blanket to cover or "wrapping" the voice -it's clear to me it's almost an object, even when it's invisible-, and I press it tight with my hands as if trying to strangle it, then pushing it furiously agains the mattress to make sure it'll disappear (maybe die). I treat it like a poisonous animal, in a violent and resolute way.
It's under my fists when I wake up for real; my position reveals it's a dream, because I'm lying on my back, not squating as happened when I "attacked" the voice. But again a curious detail: I wake up because I hear the sound of a sort of toy xylophone placed in the lower floor's bookcase. This sound is "real", and is weird because it's only occasionally produced when it's touched, or when there's a wind entering the room when we open the door. At that instant there's no apparent thing to produce the sound. So the awakening acts like another part of the dream, a part designed to make me notice maybe it was not just a dream... something beyond my grasp trying to get my attention, through my ear. Another particular detail is I don't fear at all. I'm very ready to listen -I know it's not about "seeing" this time-, and I'm determined to smother that voice which came to disturb my resting state. Then hours after I recalled it was Ash Wednesday, curious if I think it was a kind of spiritual battle between me and that  bodiless voice...

General Discussion / loved one's health issues
« on: March 06, 2018, 05:08:36 AM »
Dear Tony

I've been thinking a lot about the importance of the subconscious info retrieved by dreams in healing processes, not just at an emotional but physical level as well.
So to say that it's an entire spiritual journey that, at least in my experience, deals with the universal nature of aspects of life, being love the one that sums up any and all of our individual quests. Right now I'd like to tell you a pair of dreams I had while taking care of grandma, an Alzheimer's patient who ended up in an emergency room last week because a heart issue that had went undetected until now (I think we have a mind "connection" since we share a lot of time together).
I took on the responsibility of taking care of her a year and a half ago, when I came back home after finishing school. She was diagnosed with Alzheimer like a decade ago, but she has remained stable so it was all of a sudden that got this bad... It's a painful, hard to deal with condition, but I've learnt to share with joy and optimism the time in her company. So it was really disturbing the feeling of the abrupt disruption of her otherwise "good" health...

The dreams don't necessarily have a clear relation with what was happening with her as I watched over her at the hospital, but they came as a switching on after a dream I'd like to comment apart (I don't really know what "type" of dream is when it feels like being awake, and besides it was a sort of "vision" which I'm not sure to call a "premonition" but in some way foretold the hardships that would occur some days after). Well, the dreams I remember I had the couple of days we stayed at the hospital were these: The first day I was sitting there, as if it was a classroom, lights up, and here it comes a boy that presented his final work the same semester than me; it's like we are taking a class, there are a few persons, including a female professor there, but it's also as if we're in an intimate space, so as to approach each other without caring who could watch the way we interacted. I'm sitting at a desk and after what looks like a very flirty talk, he comes and begins to kiss the back of my neck. I feel good and nice, but don't feel really at ease because a hungry anticipation begins to build, I "imagine" how good it would feel if he kissed my mouth that way but there's something that seems not "right" in wanting that... I just keep the image of his smiling face while approaching me but it all ends there. Then I get into an exhibiton space where "my paintings" are in display. there also is a classmate with whom I worked years ago, who's there watching and bitterly criticizing my "way" of painting... Saying it's no painting at all. I get some steps behind him and almost yell strong arguments to defend my work; and again a female figure of authority stands near me, telling me to appease my speech, because the work can -and will- speak by itself. In this part of the dream there's no insecurity as in the beginning, but a contained anger, discomfort, maybe. It's weird how these two characters come to kind of interpellate first a private, then a public way to "show" myself. Finally, I'm in church. It's just the same room as before but with some furniture to look as a dinner party with eucharistic connotations. A square table dressed in white, and some served food. I'm arriving and there are some other people, among whom there is a young girl I know, dressed in white and acting as the one in charge. I feel strange because she's not as I know her, she has a smile that simply doesn't look sincere. I'm offered to take a drink, and here it comes the most curious part of the dream. First there's a glass of very red wine. Then, she opens a champagne bottle, that I can also have a drink of. Finally, here it is a glass of milk. It takes a lot of thinking to know which drink I'll chose to drink. I'd certainly like to drink that heavy wine, which I think is "in the middle" between the exaggeration of champagne (what are we celebrating?) and the childish option of milk. And even though I'd had preferred the wine, I end up thinking I'd rather take the milk -and some cereal-, just in case someone there would be to "judge" me as pretentious, vain or even drunkard if I chose the others. But there's no final choosing at all.

Then a few days after I dreamt I was in a large laundry room that was also a painting classroom. I got near a washing machine and there it was a paper that hapenned to be the one I asked to a professor with a concept about my work. The thing was the paper wasn't actually that but an apron, written, signed and decorated in the professor's fashion. And it also was the "letter" with the concept I had asked him to write. I take a look just to notice some green patterns and then I turn my head towards the entrance of the place, and he comes in, very serious. What is noteworthy of this dream is the relationship with the figure of my grandmother, that I didn't knew but read in one of your posts. It surprised me because I wasn't aware of the symbol (apron), but my mind used it nevertheless. I must note the work I asked my professor to comment on was referred to my relationship with her. And coming back to my original worry, now she's very affected, she hasn't been well since she got sick, and I feel really sad. I used to dream what would happen next day with her, and she frequently spoke to me about the dreams she had as if they were things that actually happened...

I must say that I miss her a lot, I mean, her singing, laughing, repeating on and on the same thing, even her "crazy" ways... Though her memory was "lost", she was a presence, a company, the body of constant affection and caring (a reciprocated one). Now it's her who seems lost. She was in some sort of way the objectivation, the protagonist of my returning home and the regaining of all my familiar memories and now it's like an ending to something that I think that had a lot yet to explore... then I beg God for peace, because I know her condition have meant a suffering since the beginning, after all. But there's something in me (maybe in her) that doesn't want to let go just yet. I just feel it's weird when you have to begin to miss someone when they're still there...

Dream Interpretation / a fat baby bird coming down home
« on: January 29, 2018, 12:06:25 AM »
Warm greetings!

After having read the post http://dreamhawk.com/interesting-people/animal-children/#Program you suggested on a recent topic I started, I began to reflect about the non-human characters so frequent in some of my dreams since a year or some more ago. I'd like to refer to a dream I had yesterday because it kind of sums up  dreams where different types of birds come around "my house", trying to get in here. The first was a duck, then something I'd identify with an albatross or a sea bird of some sort (I've seen just in tv and pictures), and an owl becoming man. Yesterday it finally made its "descent" in a way me and  my family could interact with it. The curious thing was that it was not an identifiable species of bird, and it was very large and fat, almost like a stuffed animal. It could be described as the ugly duckling (I knew it was a baby), was about my height (short for humans but big for a bird) and its feathers were yellowish and looked like plush.

The dream occured in a room that has functioned as a drawing room, where a closet that has been removed appears as when we were children, where we stored books and toys. I'm there with my sisters, it's afternoon and my attention is captured by the vision of birds approaching through the window. At first they are "normal", a pair of those little singing birds, then maybe a dove, they seem to push their way through the open window so I talk to my sisters alerting them to let them in. It isn't clear why those birds are coming so abruptly and earnestly but we are very attentive on letting them in; so we observe them passing across the window and then making their way through the cabinet, as if it was a kind of chimney, with an opening they could use to go out again. (As I write it I notice the apparent nonsense of them entering the room just to use the closet as a passage and getting out again; I think now it is as if they are entering another completely different place, a different "sky" when they pass through our window and then the hole in the cabinet's ceiling). For a while my sisters and I are just making it possible for them to come in by keeping the window open.

But then it comes the fat baby bird, and of course as he tries to cross past the window it's obvious he won't do it without help because he's so big. I try to keep the window open but as he pushes in it gets closed again and again, so I manage to stick it against the wall with large pieces of adhesive tape (the one I use for any emergence at work:) It's a weird moment because the bird moves and strains as a real one would do, and I fear it could get hurt. But finally he gets in and enters the closet, so in a moment everything is quiet, it's getting dark, I watch outside the window and see some birds yet flying high, and I take a look inside the top drawer to watch if he's still there, because I think he won't be able to pass through the hole in the ceiling. I see no movement, and there are some stuffed animal toys that we've kept since we were children there. After a while I convince myself he's there even when it's quiet, and he's mixed up with the toys. I'm worried because we have many dogs in this house and maybe they could hurt him if he's out. So I try to keep the door of the room closed but then he gets down and runs very fast, and goes down the stairs. I go after him.

He ends up at my mother's garden, I fear and even imagine a dog biting him but then someone blocks the way and again all the family is gathered there, I take a look and see the bird's changed the color of the feathers in its chest to blue (It reminds me of some feathers I collected years and years ago that I keep in a locket as a reminder of some events in my life). The bird is certainly not beautiful but it's magical, as some fairy tale beast; it's almost funny as I remember it but we all are acting really discreet with him. We don't seem to ask ourselves what in heaven is he doing here, or what we'll do with him, we just keep around him for a while and then I see one of my sisters comes and feeds him with an extremely curious food: They look like small sheets covered in precious materials I just identify by the colors (maybe I mention the only "audible" words "Are those diamonds?" talking about the food)... The sheets resemble the shapes of leaves or feathers, but covered in gold and silver. In this astounded glimpse, the sky slowly darkening above our heads, the dream ends. The morning after I read
"Even while you sleep among the sheep pens,[e]
    the wings of my dove are sheathed with silver,
    its feathers with shining gold.” Psalms 68

Dream Interpretation / cicadas, settings, moist fields
« on: January 21, 2018, 05:13:17 AM »
 :) Hi! I'd love being helped out with this!

This dream begins as a confusing kind of drama acted out by a strange family, in a chaotic environment full of disorderly acts and crammed space; I don't seem to know any of them, the place is permanently invaded by strangers and the only thing I remember is that at some point the center stage is taken by the man that must be the "father", wearing a kind of white robe and a crown but more like an actor; he begins to lick the body of a newborn baby... The feeling gets blurred so I don't clearly know if this appears disgusting or "wrong", it's a thing I just see as an odd viewer.

So the transitional part of the dream is almost completely different, a peaceful, very rich image (where sound takes on, making it more vivid and moving). It's almost dawn, I felt I was lying on a wet and green rice field, in someone's company. As I remember he was just a dark and encircling presence, almost a shadow, of whom a pale face is the only thing enhanced for short moments, with no much accent. I think I know him because of certain remembrances, featuring an image of a famous etching; he covered me partially as on that image, making us sort of fusing with the weak and cold light  that's barely appearing; we are both facing each other but I don't have a clear "picture", neither of really holding him, nor seeing for real our faces. It's more a sensation of some sort, and the "visual" picture it creates as it feels almost like an embrace... I remember mostly that sensation that becomes frozen, in the midst of a very real and natural atmosphere; I can feel the cool air contrasting with the soft warmth of the other body, even though we're not so close. And then the words I speak subtly and clearly, while a really intense cry of cicadas begins to rise among the dew covered grass and the soft blue that dissipates slowly as the day lightens up along with my voice... I say to him "This is all I (ever) wanted. Being here, both of us". I can't help but thinking it feels almost like being near death, as if we were some corpses lying there, still. After a while I see a general picture that allows me to watch to a leafy and strong, not so tall tree covering us, hearing some more of the accute and intensifying sound of the cicadas; then all begins to fade in that rare sensation of trying to identify what is all of it, if it's about a memory, a fantasy or illusion, or maybe a truncated thought lost in times that seemed never being meant to get us somewhere "real". So I appear far away from that place that looked like a poem I once wanted to be true, like the image someone told me that represented what he dreamed of, maybe thinking it simply isn't the person I thought I loved, nor the one I imagined... It just wasn't true. (He felt overwhelmed by my "words", put on the defensive and once said he had nothing to do with my actual dreams).

Then I appear to be back to school,  finally I end up trying to get an exhibition on time; there are again lots of people, but now I recognize most of them. It gets late and the thing must begin but I haven't get all things organized and assembled, so it becomes a sort of performance of me doing the last chores in front of the supposed "audience". Before I get angry because a woman working in the front wall of the room takes my scissors, I go there and take them throwing a fierce glance towards her; later a friend tells me I should have not, because she's the one "supervising" the show, but I seem not having time to worry about that. The last thing I remember is it's night, I know because of electric lights, and a cousin comes near and tells me, as I'm pouring a very thin brown dust (I don't know what is it, maybe ashes, not dirt but something thinly milled) in some water paths I've shaped: "Oh, why are you painting the water again?"

General Discussion / just to say THANKS!
« on: December 28, 2017, 03:09:05 PM »
I needed to say that I'm really thankful for this site, and that any and every of your responses are real gifts to me.
Thanks Tony!

General Discussion / felt like reading a poem... and here a dream again
« on: December 10, 2017, 01:28:30 AM »
 ::)Right now I was just wondering because some idle worry came to my mind after having written to someone I used to know (that I know probably won't read what I wrote to him). I thought the dumb expectance of writing to someone that doesn't care suddenly turned into a wild fear and I asked myself why? Do I really fear this person, or am I doing the wrong thing and feel guilty about it? I just kept thinking of it and all of those awkward feelings that appear when something's falling apart, like the tooth in a dream I had some days ago.

But also I felt sort of happy of knowing that the person won't read, so I can feel safe and at ease with the level of "exposure" it all has. I came to read something on here because it's one of my favorites when I feel blurred in my mind, just searching for an "inspiration". So I took a rapid look to the introduction of your poetry and said wow! how wonderful to feel the strength and power in those words about pain and love and life. And then it came, the title of one of them, that reminded me of the dream I had this morning: I said to a man, as we walked through a large corridor (as in a stadium in a vast field) -I know, I know, I know. He laughed as if I was talking nonsense, so I repeated until he approved (I didn't talk his language, that was the apparent thing). Here it is what I found http://dreamhawk.com/poems/i-dont-know/,  an unexpected and indirect but sure calling about my worries and dreams...


Dream Interpretation / front teeth chopped
« on: December 09, 2017, 08:50:29 PM »

I've been reading about the meaning of teeth in dreams, but this one is particularly confusing to me because the dream doesn't offer any clear information I could recall besides the image of myself looking in a mirror at my teeth, noticing that one in the front (I think it's the left one) is like splitting so I see little pieces of it falling, almost in a close up. I fear of touching it because it looks very fragile, and of course I think of decay and think I tell to someone there (maybe one of my sisters or mom) that it's terrible, ageing that way! I don't see anything but the mirror and talk about it shocked and in an excited way, as if it was "proving" something. I think it's because it's not the first time I've dreamt this, maybe a few weeks ago and it was almost the same.  I remember it because I woke up and went to the bathroom to check if my teeth were o.k. In the dream the tooth doesn't hurt, is not rotting and doesn't look bad, just extremely fragile and broken in the inside part of it, while the other looks healthy and normal. I see that the crumbling part looks like a yellowish material, like some resin, almost containing bits of particles trapped in it. I don't fear losing the tooth, but how fragile it looks.

I'd really appreciate if I can get some help with it!

Dream Interpretation / a cloak made of rats
« on: October 06, 2017, 04:30:56 AM »
I've had a very curious dream that sort of continues one on which I'm the guest of honor in a feast, where a white dressed table is served with plenty of healty and luscious food; I recall specially that I'm offered to chose between little pieces of which appears to be white chocolate, but at the same time seem very small vases containing a clear liquor. They are all like tiny cups of some sort, white and adorned with light blue. I'm delighted of seeing them and all my friends, everything looks so nice and we talk and seem so happy. When I take a close look to the piece of chocolate I've chosen I realize it's a little figure resembling an elephant, beautifully worked and slightly painted with blue and gold; then I hold it and drink a toast to the harmony surrounding us. The table was located near the entrance of the building where I studied when at University, not so long ago. The dream was great even when the surroundings were like a blue fog all the time.

Then just one day after I had a dream where I was inside the same building, at the classroom where I presented my final work (to get my degree as an artist); it's late in the afternoon but the day is warm, and I look though the window hoping to see my friends; I'm there with a very dear friend, and he's with a girl that I don't know but happens to be his girlfriend in the dream; they are joining for a while but as time passes by, while I look at the door and then the window, they say they have to go. I realize I have a pinata, and feel discouraged because I feel noone will come this time, it's late, I think. I see the pinata imagining it, white and round, falling in the green pasture far below the classroom. I see chocolate again. They leave and I watch the white door closed. Then I find myself at another University that I attended long time ago. I'm alone but walking around I bump into some guy that asks me for help doing some maths; I say o.k. and then he tells me to meet him later at the stadium, because the courtyard where we used to go was closed. Next, as I walk to the meeting place, I think I don't really know how to solve any math problem, because it's been so long since I left studying engineering.

I enter a place that looks more as a subterranean training field, with lockers and a sort of racetrack where people are excercising. I don't know well what to do but find sort of easy to begin doing the same, I run around the track and feel at ease, then I begin to jump and feel fine. Then I notice it's a swimming training, but it's funny how there's no swimming pool at all; I feel it's o.k. because it's just an excercise. Almost at the end of the class I see the guy I was supposed to meet there but he's already found a girl who seems to know well how to deal with the math thing and I go without talking to him, a little bit frustrated by the fact.

Then I think I have to explain the trainer I'm not part of his team, but as I talk he begins to resemble the pastor of the church I attend, and he asks to me what I have in my backpack. I show him a notebook that is really a sort of dictionary. I open it and as we watch to the letters and the images he says -so is this what you'd like to do?- and I say yes, but it best describes my sister, with all the editing and illustration sort of thing, because she's a visual designer. Then I say -What I want to do are really big paintings... So I look at him again and he's become one of my art professors, one I respect and have a lot of appreciation for. He tells -then come and see this- and we walk trough what now seems to be a cave, but at the same time keeps the appearance of the corridors of the Arts building, and an old house I use to dream.

I see a few paintings made by other students and recall one of a clown that I felt I liked... Then we end up in the very center of the cave, high and filled with a strong daylight I don't know where it comes from. A man that I assume is the janitor is there hiding near the walls doing drugs. The professor says he should avoid doing that but we proceed, he approaches the walls and takes from a deep hole a thing that resembles a big scroll, made with a long cane or rod, longer than the length of a large window, and that serves to the purpose of holding a thing that seems like a curtain as well as a cloak; he shows the curious "dress" he's created telling me that he'll use it to make photos and to perform.

He extends it in front of his body, opening the fabric that is a white tulle, so I see it falls like a pair of bells, as the thing is cut in the middle. It's very long and heavy so he holds it with both of his arms. But the most curious, at some point horrifying thing, is that the other "material" the dress is made of are hundreds of white rats and their vomit (which he points at particularly), also white, looking like large and soft spots on the pieces of fabric. I'm not really aware of my own feelings at that point, because I'm very interested in the object, even iif I find it repulsive by moments. He says about publishing the photos and I say that then he must consider to put them in very good quality, because the "details" won't be seen if he doesn't. The rats are dead and I feel weird but fascinated, because it's an impressive object to see, tremendously beautiful as much as horrible to be faced with.

Dream Interpretation / lying in a bed covered in rice
« on: April 25, 2017, 03:22:08 AM »
Hi! Hope you'll have some time to read this, I've had this detailed dream but
didn't find the meaning of one of the symbols appearing, it was rice. Thanks
for the wonderful site, it's always been a great guide!

The dream as I recall it began in a chaos of coming in and leaving classrooms in search of the one I had a class at... It's obvious that I'm lost and won't  made it. Then I appear to be in a room we used to stay in the house that my family and I always went for vacation when I was a child, it's the house of our dear grandpa (he's dead). I'm lying somewhere near the window and recalling some story pertaining to the class I failed to assist. Then it happens to be that my two sisters are there also, we began to talk but I don't look at them as we speak, it looks like there's some sort of weird low wall in between us, so I can peep at them but not watch directly. They talk precisely about having taken a class, maybe the one I tried to attend unsuccesfully.

They comment they saw there a guy -with whom I had a really horrible relationship-, from which I ended being badly hurt. One of them knows him, but the other doesn't, so in the dream I ask myself what was the impression they really had on seeing him, and feel sort of fortunate not having taken that class. The one that doesn't know him tells that he's awful, and assures he has horrible hands, -the ones of a monster!- she says, securing something that only him and myself knowk for real, a conversation and a dream he wrote speaking to me about his mother saying something about his brother being dead as she touched his shoulder, and then him eating his fingers to the very bone. My sister keeps on speaking with disgust about him, emphasizing he's an ugly and vicious person, commenting he was speaking with other people on the class about making a false profile on some network to swindle women; I think to myself it's a shame having been involved with him, but at the same time in the dream I notice I don't really care too much; I feel relaxed, as nothing that he could do could affect me any more. I even laugh, always staring at the ceiling, and imagining him in the scenarios they're depicting me, in a very real way.

As my sister talks and sees my attitude she seems to try to get a reaction from me, and says that they've even seen his legs naked... I laugh and say -disgusting!- and then my other sister intervenes, serious and sort of worried, saying that the fact is that for what she saw I've also left something as a blow, or a kind of hurtful mark on him. I try to imagine what's she talking about, and then picture him as a human target, floating like some sort of vitruvian man in an invisible board, so I see his body frontal and entirely exposed, with a circle painted in black pointing around his navel; I assume that's the point where I left the "hurt", but she corrects me. At that moment I can't but feel real pleasure in the conversation, because it seems like a  kind of curious and revealing situation, as I lie there, resting in something that then I can see it's clearly a bed, covered in very white rice that I touch with my hands, where I make movements very similar to snow angels, my heart filled with secret delight.

I continue "imagining" what they explain to me, she continues saying I hit him not where I thought but in the back of his knees, and tries vainly naming the blows in a medical way, I think. The thing is just then I'm completely aware of the place I've been during the whole conversation (a bed entirely covered in rice), and that there's some very expected moment of truth coming from that image of the back of his knees, uncovered and looking black and inflamed there. I never watch at them directly as we talk during the dream, it's as if they're only their voices talking in the opposite half of the room (left) and the images I project as I stare above, no ceiling but those images. It's full daylight, even though in some moment of the dream I'm there but all alone in the dark, spying through the window to a man that looks like drunk and is throwing little stones to the window of the house in the front. For the rest the dream is consistently full of daylight, with a blue and greenish hue.  At some point of the dream I also appear trying to make as if I don't wanna hear any other thing about the guy they mention so persistently, so I sit looking directly through the window, trying not to pay attention to my sisters, drinking eagerly water from a bottle as I stare fixedly to a man out there, in a bike, trying to seem very interested on him.

And when the chatter slowly vanishes I keep recalling the odd story of two people that I heard about in the class I was supposed to assist but didn't, that even saw as the cover of a book, titled (as the names of the couple) "Invicto and Lynn". (Lin happened to be the way the mother of D, the boy the dream revolved around, called his brother). I was just asking God the night before how it could be that even though I had seriously forgiven him for all he did, and repented sincerely for what I DID, I still resent so much any little memory that slowly comes back to mind (The experience was so traumatic that I almost "blot" all of the memories of the time I shared with him for about two years... And now I began finally to recall. Guess this dream's all about that... and a lesson on "perspective".)

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