Most of this post was written two weeks ago. Some of the time frames mentioned are relative to that point in time. For Part 1, please click here. For Part 2, please click here.
My intention with The Dream Called Reality was to create a blurring of the dreams we have when we sleep, and the dreams we have when we are awake. Even more so, I hoped to shed light on a perspective of our existence, wherein we are able to create whatever we imagine. After rereading and editing these three sections, I realize I may have lost a bit of this goal to my own dreams.
I believe I will have future opportunities to elaborate on this, but for now, I'd like to create the idea that we are dreaming in every moment we exist. When we are sleeping, we are in what we normally call dreams. When we are awake, we are in some super-dream that has a lot of consistencies and seems really important. We call this dream, Reality. The rules are still the same, and until you realize you are in a dream, you are subject to those rules. Rising above them, is the challenge of our lives.
Some day, we will wake up from Reality, and realize it was all a dream, and feel safe and secure in whatever extra-super dream we are in there. But for now, I give you part three, of The Dream Called Reality...
Riding the Elephant
Two days ago I had a dream I was on a bus. There were some other people on the bus, and we were getting along very well. I don’t distinctly recall whether we already knew each other or if we were meeting each other for the first time. We were at the end of the line for the bus – it was going to the shop for its regular maintenance at the end of its shift.
My group departed the bus, and, I watched my compatriots wash their hands, one after another. I wasn’t exactly sure why they were washing their hands, but I thought it might be important for me to wash mine as the garage we were in wasn’t the cleanest. Maybe they might know something I didn’t.
So I washed my hands; the water was really cold and I had to use one hand to turn the water while the other was in the water. I started to dry my hands and move towards the van that was to take me, and my new friends, to our next destination. However, they had already gotten into the van and were headed off. I tried to run after the van, but I couldn’t catch up, in fact, I felt extra slow, as if something was holding me back.
It was early in the morning, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t know exactly where I was, but I at least had an idea of where I was going. I thought that I might be able to catch the number 17 bus home, and that there was a stop just ahead. I was in a city that gave me the feeling it was some mixture of Portland, Baltimore, and Boulder. The buildings were short, ornate, and refined yet slightly run-down.
I managed to find the bus-stop, for the number 17, just as it was arriving, but unfortunately, the bus was going in the opposite direction I was heading (it was heading west while I wanted to head east). The door was open for just a short moment, and I tried to ask the bus driver where the stop going east was. She didn’t have time for it and started to drive off. Impulsively, I jumped on the bus going the exact opposite direction I was heading in hopes of finding the right direction.
The bus driver asked me where I was going, and I said “Gresham,” which I knew was wrong in both my dream and in my waking life (that is where I have previously lived). I shook my head and told the driver the correct destination.
As we toured the city, the bus began to change shape. The driver became an attendant who was talking to me, and a new driver appeared. The front section of the bus became an entirely distinct room, with a white-tiled floor and a small dog running about. Our conversation progressed about the locations we drove past.
At this point, things seemed fairly consistent for how my dreams usually progress, but then something dramatic happened. I don’t remember exactly how this dramatic event happened, I may have gotten off of the bus, or the bus may have simply changed its shape, but what happened was that I was suddenly being lifted in a carriage onto the top of an elephant! And it was huge!
I was sitting in the very front seat of a bright red, box-like carriage; there were no walls, no ceiling, and no seat belts. I was seated on a small, soft bench seat. The seat had a small back rest and a nice round pillow on top. My feet were dangling in front of the carriage, over top of the elephant’s forehead.
The elephant was now my tour guide, instead of the driver / attendant, and what he was showing me was causing me wonder and amazement. I had such a different perspective.
I saw a large group of people protesting a memorial for the Vietnam War. I remember thinking: “I’ve seen them before.” We passed through a corridor that was famous for panhandlers, except most of the pan-handlers were wearing business suits. One person stood out to me in particular. He seemed so familiar to me.
After passing the panhandlers, we approached the end of the road. It was a pair of double doors – they were a size we would normally call regular, but from the top of the elephant, they looked like a mouse hole. The elephant ducked down to go through, but I panicked as I foresaw myself heading straight for the edge of the frame. I didn’t want to lose my head, so I stuck my feet up, pressing against the wall above the door to stop the elephant. I was successful, but that didn’t mean the elephant was happy about that. He pulled back and shook his head at me in irritation.
I said, “Okay, I’ll trust you.” And he moved for the door, again, despite the fact he was three times its size. I relaxed, and we passed through mostly unblemished. My arm brushed past a bit of the frame, and indignantly I yelled “See! I knew you were going to do that!” This was far from the torso crushing event of what I expected the first time, but I apparently felt the need for some justification of my concerns.
When we passed through the doors, I was thrown, all by myself (the carriage disappeared at this point) down the hallway that ran perpendicular to our entrance. I turned to see the elephant, and he we standing on the other side of the hallway (on the other side of the door). His tallest point came up to about my shoulder height.
I ran to him; he ran to me. When we met, we were both terribly excited. I treated him like he was a dog, saying “Good boy!” and scratched behind his ears. I stuck my hand in his mouth and he slobbered all over it with his tongue. We were elated.
And I woke up - and I was elated. On my way to work, I happened to get behind a number 17 bus. When I stopped for dinner, I stood in line behind a man who ended up getting the number 17. I intended to try to eat dinner with him, but I had to use the bathroom, and when I came out, he was gone.
I am still elated. I feel deeply connected to my wisdom; it is carrying me.
I interpret this from my dream, but I carry it into my reality as well.
I dream all the time, in both my sleep and waking reality. I’ve told you about some of my dreams from sleep, but I haven’t mentioned my waking dreams.
I dream about humans, hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of years from now where, if you were to put humans of my dreams next to the humans of now, it would be completely incomprehensible to see how we evolved into them. These humans have evolved into blobs of matter that completely incorporate the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual natures into one cohesive unit. If you were to look at this human, you’d say they more resemble what we’d call a cell than a human.
In my dream, I don’t necessarily know how these humans got to where they are, but I’m excited to know that these humans have created something greater than themselves: another existence, comparable to what we look like to our cells. It is completely amazing. To me it is a grand fractal repeating.
This is my waking dream, and all of my other dreams feed this dream. Sure there is more to it – I’ve spent a long time dreaming about it – but this is a good start for me to voice it.
This dream is far off – it is so far beyond the extent of my mortal existence that it is hard to grasp onto. I’ve conceived it and that is all that matters.
I live to see that dream come true. There will be many shifts in the course of human history to get to that stage, if we ever get there, and I hope to accomplish in my life the setting of the stage for this to come about.
Recently, I was reading an article and I became very frustrated with the political situation of where I live (as is common for me). I wrote a public comment about the article, and at the end of this comment, I wrote: “I encourage you to take an honest look at the world you live in and ask yourself: ‘Is this really the way I want to live?’ If your answer is 'no', I heartily encourage you to stop accepting the status quo and start doing something about it.”
I believe this to the deepest core of my being.
I don’t like the structure of the reality I live in. I find it encourages separation, greed, laziness, lust, craving, and anger rather than connection, sacrifice, action, love, contentment, and peace.
I’m taking a step towards making my reality a dream. I’m taking a step towards making my dreams a reality. I’m taking a step towards a world where my dream is my reality, and my reality is my dream.
I want to live in a better world. And I want my children to live in a better world. And I want my great-grandchildren to live in a better world. Even more so, I want everyone’s great-grandchildren to live in a better world; I want everyone’s children to live in a better world; and, I want everyone to live in a better world.
Damn it! It is time to stop saying this shitty world is the way it is because that’s the way it is, and it always will be that way. It’s a shitty place because people don’t dream of something ridiculously amazing; they are too stuck in the past. They don’t dream about it, and as a result, they don’t realize it is out there just waiting for someone to come make it reality.
It is all just a dream, anyway, so why not have the best freaking dream imaginable? All it takes is some effort, and your wildest dreams will become your reality.
When I was in my early teens, I looked at the word ‘mister’ as a title that every male gets. To me at that point in my life, ‘mister’ was the definition of baseline expectation, and I knew I didn’t want to be just another ‘mister’. I didn’t want to be Mr. Clayton Osterman.
I created a fictional title for myself. I started with the least used letters in the English alphabet – Q and Z – as an abbreviation – Qz. – and moved from there. I eventually came up with the title Quayzong. From that point on, I wanted to be identified as Qz Clayton Osterman (shorthand for Quayzong Clayton Osterman).
Over the years sense then, I’ve been trying to bring this world into my reality. I’ve analyzed what it means to me, shifted it from title to a simple word (quayzong). Lately, I’ve come to think of quayzong as both title and meaning.
For me, right now, quayzong means: clarity, connection, balance, power, action, beauty, love, and peace.
I am quayzong. Quayzong Clayton Osterman; welcome to my dream.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The Dream Called Reality (Part 2/3)
Most of today’s post was written a week ago. It was written in a moment of excitement as I poured thoughts into a bowl and began sculpting with the clay I’ve spent a long time working with. It was interesting to hear, and read, the comments I received.
Rereading what I wrote, I feel like an artist whose marble statue was perfect, but on second review, notices all the rough edges and excess material. I now take on the role of editor / reviewer in addition to my role of writer / creator, which is a difficult balance.
Is it possible that I change too much, ruining the entire sculpture? Of course. What I write today may be offensive and boring to the me that wrote this a week ago. I appreciate your efforts in listening to what I have to say.
Somewhere inside of me is a jewel, created through time and pressure like all other jewels. It lives largely as a jumble in my mind, but sometimes I hold it in my hands. These have been rare and truly glorious moments for me. Finding the capacity to simply exist as this jewel is the challenge I’ve undertaken; and I appreciate your being a passenger on this journey.
For part 1 of The Dream Call Reality, please click here.
Playing with the Elephant at a Distance
Dream Moods A-Z Dream Dictionary describes the elephant symbol as such: “To see an elephant in your dream, indicates that you need to be more patient or more understanding of others. Or perhaps there is a memory that you are holding on to for too long. You need to let go of the past. The elephant is also a symbol of power, strength, faithfulness and intellect.” For a long time I didn’t really like this definition. To me, the elephant symbolized one thing: wisdom.
For a long time after I had the Pond of the Damned dream, I thought of the elephant in the bottom of the pond as my wisdom, somewhere buried under tons of seemingly murky emotion (the water), almost untouchable and unreachable because of the threat of damnation and alligators. But at least I could see it – I knew it was out there. I only had to figure out how to get in touch with it.
My waking mind and subconscious were working on it. Some months after the Pond of the Damned dream, I had another dream with this elephant. In this dream, I was in a beautiful park. The sky was blue and there were very tall trees. As I was walking through the park, I saw a family of elephants walking in a row, each holding onto the tail of the elephant in front of it with its trunk.
They were a ways off, and I was intrigued by what I saw. I started to approach them when I noticed a gigantic, and very deep, pool full with clear blue water. In the middle of the pool was a giant round fountain, spraying water into the air.
There was a crowd of people standing around the pond, looking into it. I approached and looked down. Deep in the pool, small like I’d seen it before, was the elephant. Oddly, he had a computer with him and he was playing a video game with people standing near me.
My dream at this point becomes a little blurry in my memory. I know I was waiting for my turn to play with the elephant; I know that he was playing some form of a 2-person fighting game; and that he was absolutely demolishing everyone who came up against him, me included. I wanted more of an opportunity to continue playing with him; but others were scrounging for this opportunity as well.
At some point, the playing of this game shifted to the car of a commuter train, no longer at the side of the pool, but moving down the tracks – possibly at a point late in the day or early in the morning (when the sun is bright but the sky is dark). This shift was seemless, and at some point while this was going on, I woke up.
For me, this meant that no longer was my wisdom spending its time at the bottom of the Pond of the Damned. It was in clean, fresh water. And although it was still too far for me to reach physically, we were in communication, if only briefly, despite the craving of others. I knew it was powerful, and I wanted more of its attention.
Dreams are powerful; they can provide us with insight and access to a person inside of ourselves that we normally don’t have access to. This insight can provide guidance, inspiration, or a complete shift of who we normally are.
And I don’t mean just the dreams while we sleep; I mean our waking dreams as well. If you talk to someone, and ask them about what kind of world do they want to live in, you can learn a lot about them by their response. What do they dream about?
Last week, I formulated an interesting question: “What would you say about your life if you interpreted it as a dream?”
Our lives are full of symbols that we are so used to that we don’t take the time to consider what they mean from an outside perspective. If I had a dream about a lot of cars, I’d look up what cars mean in a dream dictionary, and try to interpret from there. The dictionary would give me clues as to what it means, and have a better understanding of myself.
However, I don’t often take the opportunity to evaluate what the car means in my waking life. To me, the automobile is essentially, for Americans, a vehicle for our lives. It transports us to where we need to go; depending on its state it can do this effectively or not. It can be clean or dirty, it can be full, it can empty, we can be driving it in complete control, or it could be out of control, or it could be driven by somebody else (or nobody at all).
The car is a perfect metaphor for life. We go about our lives, often getting stuck in traffic, in our cars, either alone or with passengers; most of the time things go as planned, if not a little stressful, and sometimes something scary happens. It could all be over in an instant, and for the most part, we never realize this fact. Sometimes we have an opportunity to get out of our car and try something else on, and sometimes we don’t want to get back into the old car. We want something new, or something different.
To take this interpretation even deeper, I’ll look at the status of my car in comparison to who I am. I have always had a difficulty keeping my car properly maintained by doing things like getting the oil regularly changed and having other regular checkups. This is reflected in how I treat my body through my choice of diet and propensity to run myself ragged.
My cars have always light, nimble, and quick. I tend to be a little aggressive and impulsive in them, and this has not always served me best.
In my car, I have always a large number of receipts, something which I have had particular issues. I save them, but I never do anything with them but create big piles. Sometimes I organize them into neat little piles, and sometime I file them away out of my direct attention, but I still hold onto them.
A receipt is a validation that a particular event occurred - it may say more than that, but it at least has that as an interpretation. For some reason, I want to prove to myself that something has happened. If I dig a little deeper, I see that I am still holding onto receipts as part of something I learned from my ex-wife. In other words, I’m still holding onto her in some way, and that is represented in my way of saving of receipts. This then carries into many areas of my life, but one particular example is in the piles of receipts in my car.
By looking at the symbols that I’ve surrounded myself with, I’m able to learn deeper meanings about who I am. Taking a different perspective of who we are can create a whole new world from which we can come from in our daily lives. This type of analysis is very powerful and we can use this to evaluate ourselves, our families, and our communities and culture. All you have to do is look.
Rereading what I wrote, I feel like an artist whose marble statue was perfect, but on second review, notices all the rough edges and excess material. I now take on the role of editor / reviewer in addition to my role of writer / creator, which is a difficult balance.
Is it possible that I change too much, ruining the entire sculpture? Of course. What I write today may be offensive and boring to the me that wrote this a week ago. I appreciate your efforts in listening to what I have to say.
Somewhere inside of me is a jewel, created through time and pressure like all other jewels. It lives largely as a jumble in my mind, but sometimes I hold it in my hands. These have been rare and truly glorious moments for me. Finding the capacity to simply exist as this jewel is the challenge I’ve undertaken; and I appreciate your being a passenger on this journey.
For part 1 of The Dream Call Reality, please click here.
Playing with the Elephant at a Distance
Dream Moods A-Z Dream Dictionary describes the elephant symbol as such: “To see an elephant in your dream, indicates that you need to be more patient or more understanding of others. Or perhaps there is a memory that you are holding on to for too long. You need to let go of the past. The elephant is also a symbol of power, strength, faithfulness and intellect.” For a long time I didn’t really like this definition. To me, the elephant symbolized one thing: wisdom.
For a long time after I had the Pond of the Damned dream, I thought of the elephant in the bottom of the pond as my wisdom, somewhere buried under tons of seemingly murky emotion (the water), almost untouchable and unreachable because of the threat of damnation and alligators. But at least I could see it – I knew it was out there. I only had to figure out how to get in touch with it.
My waking mind and subconscious were working on it. Some months after the Pond of the Damned dream, I had another dream with this elephant. In this dream, I was in a beautiful park. The sky was blue and there were very tall trees. As I was walking through the park, I saw a family of elephants walking in a row, each holding onto the tail of the elephant in front of it with its trunk.
They were a ways off, and I was intrigued by what I saw. I started to approach them when I noticed a gigantic, and very deep, pool full with clear blue water. In the middle of the pool was a giant round fountain, spraying water into the air.
There was a crowd of people standing around the pond, looking into it. I approached and looked down. Deep in the pool, small like I’d seen it before, was the elephant. Oddly, he had a computer with him and he was playing a video game with people standing near me.
My dream at this point becomes a little blurry in my memory. I know I was waiting for my turn to play with the elephant; I know that he was playing some form of a 2-person fighting game; and that he was absolutely demolishing everyone who came up against him, me included. I wanted more of an opportunity to continue playing with him; but others were scrounging for this opportunity as well.
At some point, the playing of this game shifted to the car of a commuter train, no longer at the side of the pool, but moving down the tracks – possibly at a point late in the day or early in the morning (when the sun is bright but the sky is dark). This shift was seemless, and at some point while this was going on, I woke up.
For me, this meant that no longer was my wisdom spending its time at the bottom of the Pond of the Damned. It was in clean, fresh water. And although it was still too far for me to reach physically, we were in communication, if only briefly, despite the craving of others. I knew it was powerful, and I wanted more of its attention.
Dreams are powerful; they can provide us with insight and access to a person inside of ourselves that we normally don’t have access to. This insight can provide guidance, inspiration, or a complete shift of who we normally are.
And I don’t mean just the dreams while we sleep; I mean our waking dreams as well. If you talk to someone, and ask them about what kind of world do they want to live in, you can learn a lot about them by their response. What do they dream about?
Last week, I formulated an interesting question: “What would you say about your life if you interpreted it as a dream?”
Our lives are full of symbols that we are so used to that we don’t take the time to consider what they mean from an outside perspective. If I had a dream about a lot of cars, I’d look up what cars mean in a dream dictionary, and try to interpret from there. The dictionary would give me clues as to what it means, and have a better understanding of myself.
However, I don’t often take the opportunity to evaluate what the car means in my waking life. To me, the automobile is essentially, for Americans, a vehicle for our lives. It transports us to where we need to go; depending on its state it can do this effectively or not. It can be clean or dirty, it can be full, it can empty, we can be driving it in complete control, or it could be out of control, or it could be driven by somebody else (or nobody at all).
The car is a perfect metaphor for life. We go about our lives, often getting stuck in traffic, in our cars, either alone or with passengers; most of the time things go as planned, if not a little stressful, and sometimes something scary happens. It could all be over in an instant, and for the most part, we never realize this fact. Sometimes we have an opportunity to get out of our car and try something else on, and sometimes we don’t want to get back into the old car. We want something new, or something different.
To take this interpretation even deeper, I’ll look at the status of my car in comparison to who I am. I have always had a difficulty keeping my car properly maintained by doing things like getting the oil regularly changed and having other regular checkups. This is reflected in how I treat my body through my choice of diet and propensity to run myself ragged.
My cars have always light, nimble, and quick. I tend to be a little aggressive and impulsive in them, and this has not always served me best.
In my car, I have always a large number of receipts, something which I have had particular issues. I save them, but I never do anything with them but create big piles. Sometimes I organize them into neat little piles, and sometime I file them away out of my direct attention, but I still hold onto them.
A receipt is a validation that a particular event occurred - it may say more than that, but it at least has that as an interpretation. For some reason, I want to prove to myself that something has happened. If I dig a little deeper, I see that I am still holding onto receipts as part of something I learned from my ex-wife. In other words, I’m still holding onto her in some way, and that is represented in my way of saving of receipts. This then carries into many areas of my life, but one particular example is in the piles of receipts in my car.
By looking at the symbols that I’ve surrounded myself with, I’m able to learn deeper meanings about who I am. Taking a different perspective of who we are can create a whole new world from which we can come from in our daily lives. This type of analysis is very powerful and we can use this to evaluate ourselves, our families, and our communities and culture. All you have to do is look.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
The Dream Called Reality (Part 1/3)
I dream a lot. I like dreaming, and I like my dreams. I find them fascinating little peaks into my mind.
A couple weeks ago I had a particularly intense dream, full of strong symbols, which I wrote up to share with people on Facebook. There was some interesting comments about the symbology of the dream and what it meant, but not all comments were that way.
An old friend, Mithril, responded with “or maybe the dreams are just creative little segways and only significant in your reaction to them…”
I thought about her comment all day. I had this grand response I’d created to tell her about my views on dreams, because I had been thinking she said something that meant that dreams are meaningless. However, when I sat down to craft this response, I realized I was way off on my interpretation of her words, and didn’t say anything. Her comment has been floating around, somewhere in the back of my mind, ever since then.
I’d been trying to formulate what I really wanted to say about dreams, life, and in some way or another, what I feel about everything. For me, they really are all the same.
It was intense; I sat with it; and today I had a congealing of these thoughts – which this post is about.
The Elephant in the Pond of the Damned
Yesterday, I had a dream. It was a dream that had an elephant in it, and, at least at this point in my life, the elephant is a rare and particularly poignant dream symbol to me. I can only clearly remember dreaming about an elephant three times.
The first time was almost a year ago: I dreamt I was on a beach, on a hill of sand that the ocean water was coming right up to. A particularly large wave came, hitting the sand, and exploded above me creating a veritable wall of water that just hung above me.
I poked my hand through the wall. I poked my head through the wall. Then I stood up (I had been lying on my stomach). The wall went around my torso as I stood into a clearing.
This moment was very powerful for me as it was both symbol and signpost of a breakthrough into a completely different reality for me – not just in this dream but in my waking life as well. It was subtly powerful.
After crossing the water boundary, I started to look around, and I noticed what looked like an outhouse next to a marshy pond. I walked towards it, and the pond, and as I approached, I noticed a sign in the water.
Now, this sign wasn’t simply sticking out of the water, because it may not have had the impact it was. It was on a marshy alter of sorts: there was a relief, moss all about, and skulls. The most prominent looked like the classical cattle skull seen in so many depictions of the old west, but there were others like small rodents and possibly a full snake skeleton. The sign itself, hand-written in white paint, said: “The Pond of the Damned”.
I don’t necessarily believe in hell – the concept is nonsensical to me, just like the concept of heaven. I don’t have a particular attachment to the idea of being damned, and quite frankly, this is the only time in my entire life I had ever had the concept of being damned so explicitly used. I was a little confused by what being at the Pond of the Damned meant, especially considering my recent breakthrough.
I think this is a good point to mention this: I dream about water all the time. It started almost two years ago, and has been in the vast majority of the dreams I remember since then. I feel strange when I DON’T dream about water in some form. Frequently, I review my dreams to discover where the water is.
The Dream Moods A-Z Dream Dictionary (a resource I have used heavily over the last few years) says this about water: “To see water in your dream, symbolizes your unconscious and your emotional state of mind. Water is the living essence of the psyche and the flow of life energy. It is also symbolic of spirituality, knowledge, healing and refreshment.” The dream dictionary says more about how to interpret what the water means in the dream by its state, giving many examples, which are useful, but open to interpretation like any dream symbol. I’ve dreamt about water so much that I no longer read the definition and create my own interpretation. The emotion carried by the water in my dreams is almost always so apparent to me that I can usually feel the emotion / meaning that it expressed without having to dig too deep. This wasn’t always the case, but the water is much less turbulent for me nowadays.
I looked into the Pond of the Damned and it was dark, murky, and green. I saw alligators swimming about. Somewhere, deep down in the water, was a light. The best I can describe how this appeared is that it looked like a light you would see in a swimming pool, if the pool hadn’t been cleaned in a very long time and was full of algae and other gunk. However, other than the color and alligators, the water appeared very clear.
Down near the bottom of the pond I saw an elephant. He’s reared up as you would see if an elephant were about to charge, however, I think he was just floating there, in some form of stasis.
An alligator swam up to the elephant, and appeared to whisper something into its ear. This was super intense for me to notice.
I suddenly had the feeling I was being watched, and turned around to see an alligator sitting right next to me. It started to come at me, but rather than responding fearfully, I played with it. The best I can describe this is that I played as I imagine a monkey who has absolutely no fear of the alligator would play. I casually waited until it was almost right on top of me and hopped out the way. I proceeded in this fashion for a short while, until I looked up and noticed my best friend, Joe, staring at me with a shocked look on his face. I suddenly realized the enormity of the situation I was in, the danger, etc. and promptly woke up.
I’ve thought about this dream a lot since then. The elephant being one very important part, but before I go there, there is another part I’d like to go over first. That element is the portion of my waking reality that was contained in this experience - the look on Joe’s face and my realization of the reality I was in. I’ve seen it before: in perhaps the worst moment of my life.
It was in August of 2006, the exact date I don’t remember, but I’m sure I could find it if I cared to do the digging. I had been married to the woman of my dreams for five-months. It had been great, but not ideal. We were struggling in some areas, financially mostly, but had just made a breakthrough in trust.
I left for the weekend to go camping with some friends. The night before we left for the mountains, we went out drinking at a bar in my old college town. It was a great reunion, Joe, Travis, Heidi, and I. We were all off living our “grown-up” lives, and hadn’t seen each other is some time. We celebrated each others presence with many drinks before stumbling back to Travis and Heidi’s.
Along the way, we happened across a child’s playground. Joe, Heidi, and I began to swing; Travis got bored and stumbled home by himself. When swinging bored us, we moved off into the grass.
I don’t recall exactly how things escalated; I remember Joe and Heidi were on the ground – they were having “play sex”. We were all laughing, I had my phone camera out and was taking blurry, wobbly pictures that didn’t make any sense to me the next day. Somehow, I transitioned into Joe’s position, and then somehow I was making out with Heidi - and it wasn’t play.
I honestly don’t remember how it started – it is a huge black spot in my memory. What I do know is that this moment was the beginning of the end of my marriage. When I later told my now ex-wife about the experience, on my return from the camping trip, she almost left me immediately.
While I was away, our breakthrough in trust had created a new opening in her life. She had an amazing weekend attempting to start a new business for herself; she was full of life and full of love. Learning of what I had done was like dynamite to her foundation. Our breakthrough became a source of pain from which we would never recover as a married couple.
In the moment I realized what I was doing, I was crushed. A year later, we were filing for divorce, and I was headed for what would be the most depressed and, strangely, inspiring year of my life. Somewhere, during that year, I started dreaming about water.
The moment I referred to in my dream about the Pond of the Damned, the one in which I saw the look on Joe’s face, I think I’ve seen it before. Although I can’t say I clearly saw it with my eyes in the experience with Heidi, the feeling I have from Joe in that moment of the dream reflects what Joe has told me about his experience of me and Heidi kissing in the park.
My reaction in both dream and reality to the look on Joe’s face is the same as well – utter horror at what I was doing. In one world, I got to wake up.
A couple weeks ago I had a particularly intense dream, full of strong symbols, which I wrote up to share with people on Facebook. There was some interesting comments about the symbology of the dream and what it meant, but not all comments were that way.
An old friend, Mithril, responded with “or maybe the dreams are just creative little segways and only significant in your reaction to them…”
I thought about her comment all day. I had this grand response I’d created to tell her about my views on dreams, because I had been thinking she said something that meant that dreams are meaningless. However, when I sat down to craft this response, I realized I was way off on my interpretation of her words, and didn’t say anything. Her comment has been floating around, somewhere in the back of my mind, ever since then.
I’d been trying to formulate what I really wanted to say about dreams, life, and in some way or another, what I feel about everything. For me, they really are all the same.
It was intense; I sat with it; and today I had a congealing of these thoughts – which this post is about.
The Elephant in the Pond of the Damned
Yesterday, I had a dream. It was a dream that had an elephant in it, and, at least at this point in my life, the elephant is a rare and particularly poignant dream symbol to me. I can only clearly remember dreaming about an elephant three times.
The first time was almost a year ago: I dreamt I was on a beach, on a hill of sand that the ocean water was coming right up to. A particularly large wave came, hitting the sand, and exploded above me creating a veritable wall of water that just hung above me.
I poked my hand through the wall. I poked my head through the wall. Then I stood up (I had been lying on my stomach). The wall went around my torso as I stood into a clearing.
This moment was very powerful for me as it was both symbol and signpost of a breakthrough into a completely different reality for me – not just in this dream but in my waking life as well. It was subtly powerful.
After crossing the water boundary, I started to look around, and I noticed what looked like an outhouse next to a marshy pond. I walked towards it, and the pond, and as I approached, I noticed a sign in the water.
Now, this sign wasn’t simply sticking out of the water, because it may not have had the impact it was. It was on a marshy alter of sorts: there was a relief, moss all about, and skulls. The most prominent looked like the classical cattle skull seen in so many depictions of the old west, but there were others like small rodents and possibly a full snake skeleton. The sign itself, hand-written in white paint, said: “The Pond of the Damned”.
I don’t necessarily believe in hell – the concept is nonsensical to me, just like the concept of heaven. I don’t have a particular attachment to the idea of being damned, and quite frankly, this is the only time in my entire life I had ever had the concept of being damned so explicitly used. I was a little confused by what being at the Pond of the Damned meant, especially considering my recent breakthrough.
I think this is a good point to mention this: I dream about water all the time. It started almost two years ago, and has been in the vast majority of the dreams I remember since then. I feel strange when I DON’T dream about water in some form. Frequently, I review my dreams to discover where the water is.
The Dream Moods A-Z Dream Dictionary (a resource I have used heavily over the last few years) says this about water: “To see water in your dream, symbolizes your unconscious and your emotional state of mind. Water is the living essence of the psyche and the flow of life energy. It is also symbolic of spirituality, knowledge, healing and refreshment.” The dream dictionary says more about how to interpret what the water means in the dream by its state, giving many examples, which are useful, but open to interpretation like any dream symbol. I’ve dreamt about water so much that I no longer read the definition and create my own interpretation. The emotion carried by the water in my dreams is almost always so apparent to me that I can usually feel the emotion / meaning that it expressed without having to dig too deep. This wasn’t always the case, but the water is much less turbulent for me nowadays.
I looked into the Pond of the Damned and it was dark, murky, and green. I saw alligators swimming about. Somewhere, deep down in the water, was a light. The best I can describe how this appeared is that it looked like a light you would see in a swimming pool, if the pool hadn’t been cleaned in a very long time and was full of algae and other gunk. However, other than the color and alligators, the water appeared very clear.
Down near the bottom of the pond I saw an elephant. He’s reared up as you would see if an elephant were about to charge, however, I think he was just floating there, in some form of stasis.
An alligator swam up to the elephant, and appeared to whisper something into its ear. This was super intense for me to notice.
I suddenly had the feeling I was being watched, and turned around to see an alligator sitting right next to me. It started to come at me, but rather than responding fearfully, I played with it. The best I can describe this is that I played as I imagine a monkey who has absolutely no fear of the alligator would play. I casually waited until it was almost right on top of me and hopped out the way. I proceeded in this fashion for a short while, until I looked up and noticed my best friend, Joe, staring at me with a shocked look on his face. I suddenly realized the enormity of the situation I was in, the danger, etc. and promptly woke up.
I’ve thought about this dream a lot since then. The elephant being one very important part, but before I go there, there is another part I’d like to go over first. That element is the portion of my waking reality that was contained in this experience - the look on Joe’s face and my realization of the reality I was in. I’ve seen it before: in perhaps the worst moment of my life.
It was in August of 2006, the exact date I don’t remember, but I’m sure I could find it if I cared to do the digging. I had been married to the woman of my dreams for five-months. It had been great, but not ideal. We were struggling in some areas, financially mostly, but had just made a breakthrough in trust.
I left for the weekend to go camping with some friends. The night before we left for the mountains, we went out drinking at a bar in my old college town. It was a great reunion, Joe, Travis, Heidi, and I. We were all off living our “grown-up” lives, and hadn’t seen each other is some time. We celebrated each others presence with many drinks before stumbling back to Travis and Heidi’s.
Along the way, we happened across a child’s playground. Joe, Heidi, and I began to swing; Travis got bored and stumbled home by himself. When swinging bored us, we moved off into the grass.
I don’t recall exactly how things escalated; I remember Joe and Heidi were on the ground – they were having “play sex”. We were all laughing, I had my phone camera out and was taking blurry, wobbly pictures that didn’t make any sense to me the next day. Somehow, I transitioned into Joe’s position, and then somehow I was making out with Heidi - and it wasn’t play.
I honestly don’t remember how it started – it is a huge black spot in my memory. What I do know is that this moment was the beginning of the end of my marriage. When I later told my now ex-wife about the experience, on my return from the camping trip, she almost left me immediately.
While I was away, our breakthrough in trust had created a new opening in her life. She had an amazing weekend attempting to start a new business for herself; she was full of life and full of love. Learning of what I had done was like dynamite to her foundation. Our breakthrough became a source of pain from which we would never recover as a married couple.
In the moment I realized what I was doing, I was crushed. A year later, we were filing for divorce, and I was headed for what would be the most depressed and, strangely, inspiring year of my life. Somewhere, during that year, I started dreaming about water.
The moment I referred to in my dream about the Pond of the Damned, the one in which I saw the look on Joe’s face, I think I’ve seen it before. Although I can’t say I clearly saw it with my eyes in the experience with Heidi, the feeling I have from Joe in that moment of the dream reflects what Joe has told me about his experience of me and Heidi kissing in the park.
My reaction in both dream and reality to the look on Joe’s face is the same as well – utter horror at what I was doing. In one world, I got to wake up.
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