Hanging between the start and the middle of Spring, down here in the southern hemisphere, and both my son and myself have been dreaming.
He dreamed of fighting with bears – his spirit-totem, as I have divined it – and coming off second best. He reported his dream and then disappeared from Facebook for the next 6 days. Yes, I’m a little – what? worried? Maybe.
For myself, I have been dreaming of snakes. Huge, Anaconda-like serpents lurking beneath the water and fastening themselves to peoples’ chests. One attached itself to me, and I pulled it off, leaving subdural haematomas in a large patch of my torso.
Now, snakes are usually harbingers of good, if somewhat mystical import. New revelations, new ways of knowing, infusion of wisdom, soul healing. These are a few of the auras of snakes in the dreams of a loonie shamanic-type dreamer such as myself.
(I know that certain religions – notably those of the Book – consider the serpent an omen of evil. But considering their most basic definition of evil – disobedience – I think I need not consider that interpretation.)
I am also having constant tunnel visions in my meditations. Dark and steeply-sloped wormholes open up before my inner vision, and I fall into the abyss quite speedily, the ringed walls rushing past me, the end never visible.
And on the more mundane front, I am noticing the faster sloughing of all concern for the approbation of my peers. It is quite important, in human culture, to have the admiration or at least the approval of ones fellows. Or, at the very least, not to elicit their disapproval. I think that as one ages, and hopefully gathers more consciousness, this need to be accepted wanes. And if, like me, you never started with a high need to fit in, it may be quite gone by your mid-fifties. In any case, I seem to have reached the bitter end of this need. And that is both disturbing and illuminating, in so many ways.