What seemed, at first, to be a silly inconsequential dream…

…turned out to contain an archetype found throughout world folklore and myth.

In the dream…

I’m at a group banquet, situated on a long table, in the side yard of a home.

We first tried eating gooey, cheesy food—such as slices of pizza.

Finally, after going through various alternatives, we ate some cold cuts.  This food was better for us.

I have a stack of open-face bologna sandwiches on the table.

A woman takes most of these sandwiches.  She doesn’t realize they’re mine.  Nonetheless, I’m irritated.

I sneak over and grab most of the sandwiches back, while she’s not looking.

I would hardly have given this dream a thought…

…if I hadn’t been bothered by my petty thoughts and actions.

Was I being so small in my waking life?

Well, yeah—in many areas.  But I’m already aware of how petty I can be.  Why would I need a dream to tell me what I already know?

Maybe the dream actually relates to food.  Is the dream instructing me to eat cold cuts?

I don’t think so.  Gooey cheese may not be the best choice, but neither is a diet based on cold cuts.

But that’s not the real problem in this dream… 

There’s a theft, but that’s not the problem either.  After all, it was done in innocence—the woman didn’t realize she was stealing.

For that matter, at that point, I’d already had several sandwiches.  I probably didn’t need any more.  But I wanted to grab a few extra—”get while the gettin’s good”, as the song says.

So maybe that’s a problem, but the more important problem is my reaction.  Again, I have to consider my pettiness in the dream—my sneakiness.

I could’ve just confronted the woman and resolved the situation that way.  Truth is, I took some satisfaction in swiping those sandwiches back.

Rather mischievous of me.  Maybe even a little cowardly.  By stealing the sandwiches, I didn’t have to deal with the woman directly. 

She took from me, but in innocence.  I took from her, but deliberately.  Though I’m taking what’s mine, I’m the real thief!

In my waking life, I believe in playing by the book—even if it costs me.  However, this dream tells me that I sometimes enjoy being sly.  But worse than that: I may commit the petty act of taking revenge through trickery.

However, I don’t see my behavior in the dream as immoral—I see it as amoral.  Like the mischievousness of  Trickster—the character found in so many of the world’s myths and legends. 

Trickster is amoral.  He enjoys playing tricks, but his actions aren’t really malicious.  He does as he does because that’s just what he does.

However, in the course of his trickery, the tricky trickster often ends up tricking himself.

Well, I have fooled myself many a time!

The dream ends after I’ve stolen the sandwiches back, but if the scenario had continued, my actions could have easily blown up in my face.

I still can’t relate this dream to a particular situation in my waking life…

…nonetheless, it’s given me some insight in my character, into my ways of working in this world.  I’m not so strait-laced as I may imagine!  Nor so brave!

Now I know to watch this shadow aspect before it gets me into Trickster trouble…

…and to find better uses for it.  After all, the Trickster is also a creative force.

© 2012, Michael R. Patton
sky rope poetry

Even when I have a clear memory of a dream…

…I’m probably not going to be clear about everything in it.

But I’ve found that I need not remember every detail in order to get the message.

In a recent dream…

I’ve just woken up.  It’s early in the morning, just before dawn.

I start rushing about—there’s much to be done.  I’m thinking I should’ve risen sooner.

I start to put on some red sneakers.  My socks are wadded up inside the shoes.

I’m in such a hurry that I decide to forget about the socks for now.  I’ll slip into the shoes and put the socks on later.

Though I thought this dream might have an important message for me…

…I got hung up on the color of the socks.

I had a clear image of the wadded-up socks inside the shoes.  But for some reason, I couldn’t recall their color.

Were they white?  Were they gray?  Were they some other hue?

Fortunately, I soon saw how I was distracting myself.

I’m not saying details aren’t important, but there’s so much else happening here…

The dream tells me that I’ve begun something new.  In the dream, I’ve just moved into that house, into that city.  It’s a new day in a new place.

Though I’ve gotten a early start, I’m criticizing myself for not rising sooner.  Again, I’m not giving myself a fair break in a dream scenario (as also happens in waking life).

True, I do need to get a move on.  But maybe I shouldn’t be rushing about—I could actually cause problems for myself.

Perhaps that’s the reason the color of the socks didn’t register with me—I was in such a hurry.

Again, the dream mirrors a waking life condition—I can miss things when I try to go too fast.

Furthermore, I do have time to put on the socks.  I mean, how long does it take?  If I wait, I’ll just have to take my shoes off later and drag the socks out of my pocket—if I don’t lose them in my blind rush.

Though I can’t recall the color of the socks, I still see those red shoes.  So that’s the detail to consider.  In any case, the most important thing in the dream is what I’m thinking and doing.

© 2012, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology

My dreams have shown me some ugly business.

Since I consider anything in a dream—any person, any emotion, any situation, any thing—to be a part of myself…

…dream messages can be a hard pill to swallow.

On the other hand, sometimes when I see something beautiful, something wonderful…

…it can also be hard to accept.

In a recent dream…

…I’m on a pleasant trip, moving above a blue marsh plain as if I’m flying.

I’ve chosen some music for this trip: a collaboration involving John Coltrane and The Beatles.

True, I’m listening to the music, not creating it; nonetheless, it‘s in my dream…

…and if I’m going to accept the worst about myself—if I’m going to accept that those terrorists, wounded women, rats, and malfunctioning cars are all a part of me…

…then I must also accept that this collaboration—between a seminal jazz saxophonist and the seminal rock band—represents something within me…

…no matter how difficult that may be to believe.

So then, what does this collaboration represent?

I’m not exactly sure.  But interpretation can come later.  Right now, the morning after this dream, I’m just going to enjoy the feeling.

© 2012, Michael R. Patton
sky rope poetry

In this time of looking back…

…of trying to assess the past year…

…I’m considering why 2011 wasn’t much of a “big dream year” for me.

Yes, I remembered dreams.  Yes, I wrote those dreams down.  I also went into a few of them and unveiled to myself some obvious secrets about myself—so obvious, that I’d missed them.

Nevertheless, this activity was not at the same intense level as in the last decade, especially the time between 2003-2009.

But that’s okay.  I don’t see what I doing now as “avoidance”.  I see it as healthy—as an attempt to create more balance in my life…

One can do good work in a cave, but there comes a time to step back out into the light of day.

In her book Dancing in the Flames, therapist Marion Woodman tells of people going through periods of deep inner examination, and then turning their attention back out, focusing again on the demands of the world outside the cave.

However, I didn’t fully emerge from the cave in 2011…

In the process of moving my blog from MSN Spaces to WordPress, I reconsidered many old dreams—which really weren’t so old.  Problems shown to me in 2003 were often still with me in 2011…

At least now, because of the dreams—and my work done on them—I’m more aware of those problems.

So, I’m not discouraged.  Besides, I’ve learned from my dreams that some struggles will be lifetime projects.

But these old dreams became current in another way as well: as I reconsidered them, I gained new insight.  Sometimes this new insight seemed so obvious!  Yet I’d missed it the first time ’round.

I’d planned to transfer the old material directly to the new site.  Instead, I ended up rewriting each and every entry.  As far as I was concerned, I had no other choice now.

But it was well worth the effort.  I needed to make the knowledge gained from these dreams more a part of me—more a part of my conscious thought.  I also needed a “summing up”—a summing up of a period of intense inner work.

So in one way, 2011 wasn’t an active year for me in terms of dreams…but in another way, it was extremely active.

© 2011, Michael R. Patton
sky rope poetry

I’m still bugged, according to this dream:

I’m sitting outdoors, talking with an old man who’s a pest exterminator.  He holds up a can of bug spray.

The can is old—it’s grimy around the top.

The old man says the can’s nearly empty.  He pushes the nozzle, but only a weak spray comes out.

Yes, there’s a problem in this dream.  But because the dream lacked a certain drama, I wasn’t too bothered by the situation…

…until I realized how it connected to two earlier dreams.

A few weeks earlier, I dreamt of lying under a big fir tree at night.  Though I felt secure, I was unable to sleep because I worried there might be bugs on the ground.

Then, in a dream that came soon afterwards, I’m struck by an irate driver in a Volkswagen bug.

The pun is obvious.  There are many things that “bug” me in this life.  Things that keep me from sleeping in peace.  They run down me, even when I try my best to avoid them.

True, I have a pest exterminator to help me deal with these irritants…

…but apparently, he’s out of bug spray.

But maybe I shouldn’t be using such poison.  In my waking life, I try to avoid using pesticides.

However, the old man of this dream seems wise.  The spray will kill bugs, not me.

Nonetheless, he would seem to be engaged in a losing battle.  Doesn’t this world have an infinite supply of bugs?  Why fight?

Because I want to sleep in peace at night, that’s why.

Bugs are small problems, but they’re problems.  The dream is telling me that I didn’t heed the earlier messages.  I’m on empty.  What has served me in the past won’t serve me in the future.

Maybe I need to try something new—perhaps something more effective.

But what?  Often dreams only show the problem.  It’s up to my conscious mind to find the solution.

Since that dream, I haven’t had any more buggy scenes, so maybe I’ve heeded its message.

However, I know “bugs” can appear in different forms.  I’ve certainly been bugged in many other dream scenarios.

But the bug-spray dream wasn’t about eliminating bugs.  It was about controlling them.

It’s a lifetime project, an never-ending battle.  Such dreams are weapons in the fight.

© 2011, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology

“In dreams we are all geniuses.”

I’ve seen that quote—or some version of it—attributed to a number of persons, including Albert Einstein and Akira Kurosawa.

But to me, it’s not quite accurate.  We all make mistakes in our dreams.  Or, at least, our ego-self does.

I would alter that quote to say instead: in dreams, we have access to that which is genius…

…to an intelligence that can show us what we’re doing wrong.
 

MY DREAMS ARE YOURS, YOUR DREAMS ARE MINE

Frustrated by the limits of my crib…

I try to soothe the wound
with the expansion granted
by nightly dreams—

dreams that are mine alone

yet belong to all of us.

I can understand why such wisdom comes…

but when I ask, “From where?”

the question echoes
without answer
down the tunnel
of a bottomless well.

© 2011, Michael R. Patton
sky rope poetry

How can dreams be so different from one night to the next?

Monday morning, I may wake from a dream in which I’ve won the fight.

Then Tuesday night, I find myself still struggling in the midst of battle.

What’s going on here?

Well, maybe these dreams refer to different wars.

Or maybe it’s the same war, but different battles.  Is any victory ever complete?  Aren’t the same problems, the same dragons, always lurking?

I’m thinking of two dreams that came to me around the same time…

In one dream…

I’m crawling on the floor of my apartment, searching for something I’ve lost.

As my frustration grows, a sock on the floor gets smaller and smaller.

In the other dream…

…I’m carrying a box of children’s clothes to the back closet of a cathedral.  This massive structure also serves as an orphanage.

As soon as I step into the closet, the box lifts from my hands and shoots straight up through a chute in the ceiling.

Waking from that dream, I immediately thought of the famous quote from Corinthians:

“When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child.  But when I became a man, I put away childish things.”

According to this dream, I was offering up those garments I’d used as a child to protect me.

But the other dream seemed to contradict this message.

That dream showed how I was reducing myself to child-size by allowing my frustration to build into anger.

How could both these dreams be right?

Maybe the “frustration” dream revealed my present state…

…whereas, the “sacrifice” dream represented a potential future.

After some consideration, I’ve come to see both dreams as being about potentials.  Both dreams tell me, “It’s your choice.”

Sometimes I get it right.  Sometimes I get wrong.

Sometimes I offer up the kid stuff.  Sometimes I’m crawling on the floor.

© 2011, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology

The authors of Grief Dreams—T.J. Wray and Ann Back Price—commit a cardinal sin.

It pains me to say that, because they have such good intentions.

The book is filled with dreams in which the dreamer meets a friend or family member who has died.

The authors show us how such dreams—even the traumatic ones—can help us deal with our grief.

However, they offer only those dreams in which the dreamer encounters the deceased.

The dreamer will likely have other dreams that address grief, but do not include the loved one.  Shouldn’t these dreams also be considered?

But that’s not my biggest problem with the book…

The authors try to interpret the grief dreams.

The dream belongs to the dreamer.  The dreamer created the dream from her own experience of life.  Who can know her experience better than she does?

Yes, I believe there are archetypal symbols, “universal” symbols, and often a dream symbol can be interpreted as an archetype…

But even then, the dream will present its own particular version of the archetype—a version that will relate to the dreamer’s personal experience.

In Grief Dreams, Ray and Price tell of a dream in which a woman climbs an enclosed stairwell to an unfamiliar apartment.

In the apartment, she meets her deceased sister.

The authors state that “stairwells usually symbolize increased spiritual awareness or a more transcendent awareness”.  They also state that “enclosed” could suggest protection or the “closed” emotions of early grief.

Yes, a stairwell could symbolize heightened spiritual awareness…

But before jumping to conclusions, we need to ask some questions about that stairwell…

What does the dreamer associate with stairwells, stairs, stairways?  Is there some significant experience in her past?

Also, though we know it’s enclosed, there’s so much we don’t know about the stairwell.  Was it dark or well-lit?  Trashed-up or clean?  Modern or old-style?  New or worn?  Any vivid colors?

Does the dreamer feel safe or threatened on this stairwell?  What is she feeling as she ascends?

We may help the dreamer—if she actually wants our help—by asking her such questions…

But no matter how much we learn about the dream…

…the dreamer is the only one who can interpret it.

Maybe her dream speaks to us as well.  But what it says to us may be far from what it’s trying to say to her.

Moreover, I believe the dreamer can gain so much in attempting to understand the dream herself.  The knowledge gained is knowledge earned.  When I achieve insight into a dream, I feel a sense of accomplishment, of competence.

That said…

I believe the book can still be of use to someone grieving over a death.  Grief dreams can be a good way to say goodbyes left unsaid.  If nothing else, reading this book may provoke such a dream.

Do we actually communicate with the spirit of a loved one in these dream encounters?  Or is the dream merely a creation of our unconscious mind?

I credit the authors for asking that question without trying to answer it for us.

They believe that the most important thing is what results from the experience.

With that, I have no argument.

© 2011, Michael R. Patton
sky rope poetry

According to this dream, I’m skinning myself alive:

I’m carefully scraping the sole of my foot with a pocket knife.

Not very dramatic.  Until you consider what’s really going on here…

I’m using the knife to get rid of old dead skin—getting rid of what I no longer need through my own deliberate effort.

Just as the snake sheds its dead skin.

Because the snake sheds its skin every year, it has often been used as a symbol of life renewing itself.

But unlike the snake, maybe I need that skin.  Maybe I need some calluses to protect my feet.

Well, that’s a dilemma we all face, I guess.  We need to be sensitive, yet we need some protection, as well.

I don’t want to be numb to the earth beneath my feet.

On the other hand, if I’m too sensitive, I’ll never get anywhere.

So I must be careful. I must work consciously.

But according to the dream, I am.

So many dreams tell me what I’m doing wrong.  This dream shows me what I’m doing right.

© 2011, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology

I woke from this dream with a mental nausea…

…and yet, I found its message very encouraging.

In the dream…

I’m participating in a retreat, held in a rural area, at compound operated by a religious sect.

I’m stand beside a gravel road, along with four other fellows.  We are to “receive communion”.

But in this case, receiving communion means being beaten on your backside.

My entire being rejects the idea of this ritual—and not just because of the pain.  The ritual just seems sick.

So I go inside the main building.

In the lobby, I talk with a friend who encourages me to receive communion—she supports the practice.

I decide that I must leave this place.

First of all, let me say I’m not Catholic.  In fact, I don’t attend any church.  However, I know there’s many ways to receive spiritual communion—to experience the spiritual essence of life.

Can pain be one of those ways?

Well, in dealing with our pain, we may turn to the spiritual for solace, for strength.  Sometimes, as the pain rises in intensity, we can experience a spiritual breakthrough.

But I think there’s enough pain in this life already, without seeking gratuitous amounts.  This life presents us with plenty of opportunities to endure—to go beyond our physical limits as well as the restrictions placed upon us by our puny egos.

There are other ways—better ways—to consciously experience the spiritual essence of our lives.

But in the dream, I’m not guided by such logic.  I’m guided by some very intense feelings—what I know to be true in my deepest being.  Yes I do solicit another’s opinion, but I end up keeping my own counsel.  I do not submit to the ruling authority.

So, according to this dream, I’m not going to keep creating unnecessary pain in my life; I don’t see it as a way to god.  I’m going to follow a deep inner knowledge.  Feeling, not thought, will get me there.

In light of all this, I see my nauseating dream as being very positive.

© 2011, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology