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.]

Brokenness: "Melissa"

That was my attempt to draw the image I saw in a dream early this morning. The face in the mirror was an awful, bitter version of me somehow set in stone. I admit I have my bad days, but that visage goes beyond even the worst of them, I think.

When the dream began I stood outside the warehouse I saw in the other dreams. I'd been approaching it and wondering why there was a huge fingerprint painted on the stone wall. I remember thinking it could be a fingerprint from one of those Greek gods, but who? (Now I prefer to think a goddess left her mark there.) When I stood in front of the design I saw it was a labyrinth - pretty cool, but why paint it on a warehouse? I couldn't see any clues so I wandered around the building.

I found a door which did not help because it was locked. I wasn't sure I should try to go in at all, let alone force my way. Then I remembered the horse and my promise so of course I had to try. When I looked closer I realized the keyhole was not a real keyhole. It was a thumbnail version of the labyrinth design on the wall. I felt a bit silly thinking this - like my thumbprint is anything special! - but I decided to just try to use it as the key to open the door. I was surprised and yet I wasn't when I heard the lock release.

All I saw when I walked into the warehouse was the mirror with the granite-faced image. The looking glass was supported by two demon cats who looked like gray demon versions of the cat from those other dreams. I stood there for a bit wondering what that image of my face was meant to convey to me when the demon cats began growling and hissing, swiping at something above the mirror.

I heard a throaty call and looked up to see the crow perched quite comfortably on top of the mirror, a slip of paper clamped in his beak. He bobbed his head at me and danced from foot to foot. He made me smile so I held up my hand to see if he'd give me the paper. He did. Someone had written "People aren't made to be broken" on a scrap of soiled stationery. "Okay," I said, and he flew off toward the door and perched on the handle of an oar propped against the wall.

Once I picked up the oar he flew out the door and circled back to make sure I followed. I had no idea what a crow could want me to do with a single oar -- whack something out of the sky? What? I was thoroughly confused. He led me to the river, the one with the glass bridge, and flew round and round above my head crying, crying, crying. So, feeling really silly again, I started to stir the river and chant, "Double, double toil and trouble" from "Macbeth"!

That is all I remember.

Those provocative fragments stuck with me as I showered, but when I stood at the sink waiting for the steam to clear I heard two songs and the pieces of the puzzle began to make sense. My mp3 player was set to 'shuffle' - that is the only way I could have heard in succession Loreena McKennitt singing William Butler Yeats' poem "The Two Trees" and the group Audioslave singing "Revelations."

Yeats wrote of the bitter glass, the dim glass "the demons, with their subtle guile, Lift up before us when they pass," the glass which turns all things "to barrenness" if we gaze in it too long. I still feel the chill that crept over me to think some buried part of me had found a voice and was warning me. I was oddly comforted to hear the portion of Audioslave's "Revelations" about being broken because it reminded me of the message the crow gave me: "People aren't meant to be broken." I have the feeling now the crow wanted me to see, too, that people aren't meant to believe what the "bitter glass" tells them, those clawing, hungry, bitter things. How did the crow hear my buried voice? Who is he? Why does he care?

Now I sit here and stir my tea while I sift through the images again. I remember, too, that carousel horse -- Oh whoa! Yeats opens and closes the poem from that dream, "The Circus Animals' Desertion," with images of brokenness! He opens describing himself, "at last being but a broken man"; at the close of the poem he writes that his masterful images began out of, in part, "a broken can." (I like the topsy-turvy nature of opening the poem with "at last" and closing it with "began.")

Oh no. I remember now, too, seeing some of the circus animals "broken" when I was a little girl. I never handled that well at all. I had forgotten that. It would make my dad so angry when I would yell at them to stop!

So now I am remembering. And now it seems that my dreams are putting me together with a Nobel prize-winning "broken" Irish poet, and circus animals, and a crow who gives me messages. This crow also seems to think that stirring up a river and quoting "Macbeth" are the right clues for me.

But why? And how does the labyrinth-thumbprint-key part fit into all of this? How does this help the horse?