Thursday, November 26, 2009

"Lost and Found": "Melissa"




nock, knock, they're here! I sent them," said the voice at the window, a lovely sprite smiling at me as I sat in the office of St. Clair Shores. I'd been researching some mythology when a shadow fell across the desk and I looked up to see her enchanting face peeking in through the foliage of the tree. "I didn't send that woman, though." A battle-axe of a woman marched down the hall past the office declaring loudly and definitively that, "This place is filthy!"

I know it was a dream, and therefore not bound by 'logic,' but these appearances totally baffled me. I leapt up from the desk chair to forestall the woman stomping down the hall. My attention was diverted, however, by the sight of a number of women and children gathered out on the lawn, between the water and the front entrance, looking longingly toward the inn. When I turned back to the window, hoping for information from the sprite, she was gone.

Before I could stop the battle-axe and ask who she was or why she was there she marched back out the door. I was baffled. There was nothing filthy whatsoever about the inn and I wanted to argue that point with her but decided I'd better turn my attention to the women and children on the lawn. They seemed hesitant to speak, but I was patient with them and eventually learned that they had nowhere to call home. 'Home' was a blessing lost to them. So I invited them into the inn - there was plenty of room.

I urged them to make good use of the toiletries and robes and linens in the rooms. When they had wandered slowly away I realized that there were two little ones, a boy and a girl, standing alone in the lobby. Unlike the other children, who were there with their mothers, this boy and girl were alone. They were not even siblings, but friends who'd met during their wanderings. The little boy spoke for both of them and informed me, "My name is Ham and her name is Sam." They stood there, small, hungry, dirty - thoroughly vulnerable.

The only thing I could do was to lead them to one of the rooms and move between entertaining one and bathing the other. Eventually the pair were clean and wrapped in those over-sized, but very warm, terry robes. I led them downstairs to the office and snuggled them in the chair at the desk with some pencils and paper. I told them I would go to the kitchen to find some food and hot chocolate and be back as quickly as I could. While the milk came to a simmer on the stove, and some of the women shyly entered the kitchen, I searched a box of items labeled "Lost and Found" to see if there were anything for Ham and Sam.

When I returned to the office, tray of goodies and a 'found' item in hand, I nearly cried out to see their shining tousled heads nestled close together as they whispered to one another. I felt sweetness, unutterable unbearable sweetness pierce me - a bolt of lightning - when I introduced Ham to the small cuddly stuffed piglet I'd found in that box. "I think he's been waiting in that box just for you, Ham," I whispered. My throat choked and my eyes filled with tears when he offered Sam the chance to hold the piglet while he finished his drawing.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Musings.13: Barbara



elieve me - I do not think for a moment that falling asleep in the midst of writing a story, as happened to Melissa, is necessarily an indication that one's writing is bad or "soporific." It may be the case on occasion, but more often than not I think it is the Creative Force's way to slow down the writer and get them to see some creative elements that they are missing. If it is one thing the Creative Force loves it is a writer who listens to Its stories.

"Why don't you tell your dreams to me, fantasy will set you free ... Close your eyes girl, look inside girl ... " Steppenwolf

So, in this most recent dream of Melissa's it appears that she is awakened to an aspect of her identity through her efforts as a writer, a storyteller. The dream presents her with an image of herself as a peacock which is rather unusual, as Melissa notes, because male peacocks possess the magnificent plumage. (There is one type of peacock whose females have splendid plumage, but the male still possesses the more notable feathers.)

One thing I have learned when dealing with surprising imagery in dreams is that I always check for any connections to mythology. It was a delightful surprise to discover that both the peacock and the swan have associations to the Hindu goddess Saraswati. Saraswati emerged from the mouth of Brahma, bringing books of wisdom and knowledge to aid humanity in forming solutions to bring order out of chaos. Her arrival was heralded by a peacock, and she emerged on the back of a swan.

"Be - as a page that aches for a word that speaks on a theme that is timeless."
Neil Diamond, "Jonathan Livingston Seagull"

Following the logic of dreams it appears that the Dreaming Universe is instructing Melissa to see that her role as a writer is that of heralding the arrival of the goddess Saraswati. Curiously, however, the Dreaming Universe presents her with a cast of characters culled from Western fairy tales, the Twelve Dancing Princesses. The fairy tale is not presented in its entirety here so I tend to think that at this stage in Melissa's development as a writer the elements she was shown are simply the vital ones: twelve princesses, the swans, the ball, the tattered soles.

When the princesses are escorted from the ball and arrive at their common destination, the question of identity is again highlighted. At first glance it appears that the identity of the princesses is to remain a mystery, but Hindu mythology teaches that both black horses and white horses symbolize Saraswati and her consort, Brahma. So, again, we are pointed to the goddess as the source of universal wisdom and knowledge for humanity.

I note also that the Celtic goddess Epona is associated with the horse. Perhaps the western fairy tale pointing to Saraswati is suggesting that Epona is also to be acknowledged. Thus we would see the goddess of universal wisdom and knowledge spreading across Europe up from Asia.

"I am a human Be-ing." Deepak Chopra

The Goddess has appeared in Melissa's dreams in many guises, but now, by explicitly referencing a European fairy tale the message appears to be that such tales represent the universal wisdom and knowledge couched in them. Until this dream that wisdom and knowledge was merely suggested by the occasional appearances of the Faerie Queen and Her King.

This association of fairy tales with universal wisdom and knowledge is strong 'medicine' indeed. This is so especially as it is presented to Melissa after the dream in which she refuses to respond to her father's demands to act in the way he chooses for her, and receives affirmation of the wisdom of maintaining her dream.

"You gave me life now show me how to live ..." Audioslave

The appearance of the fairy tale to Melissa demonstrates Bruno Bettelheim's assertion that over the centuries fairy tales "came to convey at the same time overt and covert meanings - came to speak simultaneously to all levels of the human personality, communicating in a manner which reaches the uneducated mind of the child as well as that of the sophisticated adult." (emphasis mine)

The psychological challenges of "becoming able to relinquish childhood dependencies; gaining a feeling of selfhood and of self-worth and a sense of moral obligation" are not confined to a specific age level. These tales offer anyone who approaches them with an open mind the opportunity to fit "unconscious content into conscious fantasies, which then enable him to deal with that content."

"Someone tries to hide himself down inside himself ..." Audioslave

The challenges of Melissa's life, as shown to us in these dreams, strongly suggest that Mr. Barker's expectations of her and her vain attempts to meet them have derailed her. The fairy tale points her toward an identity and a role, should she choose to accept them. It is especially interesting that the fairy tale has been altered, tailored, to her specific needs. Perhaps the most enchanting aspect of this dream, this fairy tale is that it speaks to her about her. It acknowledges aspects of her unconscious life that nothing or noone else has ever noticed, let alone acknowledged.

"The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are." Joseph Campbell

These dreams and the fairy tale offer Melissa "hope to live not just from moment to moment, but in true consciousness of our existence." Romeo could have been speaking for untold legions of people who "have lost the will to live, and have stopped trying," because a meaning to their life has evaded them:
Mercutio: Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
Romeo: Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes/ With nimble soles; I have a soul of lead/So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

How would Romeo respond were he to meet any of the Twelve Dancing Princesses?

[A bibliography for this post includes:

Bettelheim, Bruno. "The Uses of Enchantment: The Meaning and Importance of Fairy Tales." New York: Vintage, 1975

Shakespeare, William. "Romeo and Juliet." New York: Bantam, 1988]

[Photo: The tattered heels of the shoes I wore to the Folger Shakespeare Museum, Washington, D.C. - the sidewalks just destroyed them.]





Italic

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Twelve Dancing Princesses: 'Melissa'


dreamt I fell asleep over the story I was writing at the desk in the office of St. Clair Shores. (It is not a good sign when my own writing puts me to sleep!) Some snatches of music, drifting in from somewhere on the property, and a solitary giggle woke me. While I sat, blinking, I heard the giggle again, then again, and left the desk and my soporific story to investigate.

Out of the inn and across the lawn I stumbled to stand on the rock strewn shore, shivering and wondering what I was seeing. At first I saw only swaying lights - I counted a dozen - but I soon realized that the lights were mounted on small boats. I cannot say if the boats departed from the same place or not, nor can I say whether they had departed from the island I could so clearly see. All I know is that a dozen boats came over the water to settle on St. Clair Shores.

One by one each of the twelve princesses stepped from her boat to stand before me as if for inspection. I noted that while each princess was dressed in her own individual style all of the boats were swan boats. I was rather awed by the princesses and I probably stared too pointedly for too long, but they were kind and patient, thankfully.

When I found my voice I was horrified to hear myself, well, shriek in a horrid and unpleasant manner. I thought of just running away and when I turned to go I heard a swishing noise behind me. The river rocks felt different under my feet and when I looked down I discovered I had the legs and feet of a bird! I confess, I panicked. After some frenzied dancing and jerking, which amused the princesses enough to make them giggle, I figured out I had become a peacock! The swishing sound had been the wind through those magnificent tail feathers.


For whatever reason, once I had discerned my 'fowl' identity I marched off in the direction of the music, calling loudly as I did, the princesses in a line behind me. I watched them dance and dance, and when it was time I led them, each carrying her tattered shoes, back to their swan boats.
I do not know how everything shifted (I never do in these dreams), but I suddenly found myself outside the warehouse. The princesses arrived at the door, each in her own time, each pressing her thumb to that labyrinth symbol to gain entrance. When the door closed behind the last princess I stole up the spiral ladder and hid behind the roses to see what I might of the princesses. What I saw, however, was all those tattered soles lying amid discarded carousel horses.



I wonder what it means, if anything, that the horses were all either black or white? Hmmm ... This is intriguing. It seems almost as if the dream is a message to wake up from what I was trying to write and ... what? ... escort twelve dancing princesses to the ball, as a peacock? Can a woman even become a peacock - the ones with the gorgeous, magnificent tails are the males, aren't they?