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 HealingIn 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 SuiteAnother 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 EyesI’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!
