Guest Dreamer: Zebra Run and Flow

Guest dreamer Openfoot has contributed today's magical dream. You can read more of his dreams and check out his artwork here.
Openfoot's Dream: I stand on Yorkshire cliffs high above the sea. A large fishing boat is just leaving the bay. Under the surface of the bay a huge grey cloud can be seen clearly revealing that the shoal of fish the boat has been targeting is still there. Now I'm flying and moving towards the shoal, at first flying over it but then diving underwater. Here great shapes appear, the shadows of Orca, Killer Whales. I watch them lunge through the shoal and then on to pursue individual fish. Now, and to my great surprise, a herd of underwater zebra "gallop", with little apparent effort, through water as they too pursue the small fish. This herd of "sea horses" are amazing.

Now standing at a lakeside, the zebra emerge from its still waters. In my position at right angles to the galloping herd I watch them move along the shore. I am in wonder. This is remarkable. They seem to have brought the water of the lake with them. As they begin to enter open woodland the "water" of the lake fills all the air and space. It's mostly invisible but you get the odd shimmer to indicate its presence. The movements of the zebra herd, although now very free, seem just as if they were still running under the sea.

The rest of my family arrive and I urge them to watch this wondrous scene. I continue to express my amazement and delight. The zebra seem to be having great fun as they duck under branches and leap over bramble patches, demonstrating great grace and agility.

Carla's thoughts: Tony Crisp says that “deeply unconscious processes are often depicted by fish” and that fishing can symbolize “a receptive state of consciousness which allows the deep insights or processes to become known.”

If this were my dream, it would be about my movement toward a more expansive, intuitive understanding of my place in the world and a more joyful experience of life. Life abounds in my dream, but in the beginning I am looking down on it from a lofty cliff; I'm far above the sea. So I go “fishing” for something else. A bay is more constricted than the sea, and as I leave this more confined space I see a huge gray cloud, representing a shoal of fish. As I progress through my dream, I notice the proportion of gray to black and white reverses. At this early point, my quest lacks clarity, and so it appears huge and gray. The resolution I experience in the dream will be symbolized by the proportion of black, white and gray in the dream animals.

I'm in pursuit, and what I'm after is the resolution of a conflict I'm feeling between my personal and my group identity. Can I be my true self in a group? Fish in a shoal band together, but do not coordinate their movements as do those in a school. I am sociable, but not immersed in the herd. I investigate this community from above and below: I fly above it; I dive beneath it. As I watch, the shadowy Orca, another great gray shape, goes after “individual” fish. Being an individual is clearly a scary and vulnerable thing to be. But wait! Something is coming into focus for me: the Orca is mostly a black and white creature, with only a small gray area over its dorsal fin. My confusion (the gray area) has shrunk. With the appearance of the zebra I have resolved my conflict: these creatures have no gray areas at all. I am free to be me!

The zebra leave the sea; as they come out of the water I gallop toward a rebirth. I am at right angles to them (I see them correctly, from the right angle or viewpoint). Magical and mysterious and wonderful imagery tells me that I have had an epiphany. The zebra have brought the water of the lake (the mists of the mythical Avalon) with them. Their shimmer is my enlightenment. I watch in wonder, sharing the moment with those dearest to me. I am in sync both with my family (the community of man) and with my natural and unique self.

The Synthesis

Occasionally a dream echoes the structure of a myth, revealing where we are on our life journey. 

The Dream: I find my way to a mountain-top home, a castle-like structure overlooking the surrounding countryside, hilly terrain like the semiarid northern California coastal range. I’m in a turret, with windows on 3 sides. At first there are no other structures to be seen. Later I see what at first appears to be a brilliantly white spire topping some sort of temple rising above the hills. Then I see a very large building that obscures the temple; it looks like the scaffolding of a large office building but has a silvery, glowing quality that makes it difficult for me to figure out exactly what I’m seeing. I soon realize that my confusion was created by a cloud behind the scaffolding. It moves off to the left and the bare bones of a building under construction are revealed.

Back to me in the strange room: I’m in a room to the right of the turret. A crude ladder made of wooden slats, again like a framework or scaffolding, leads to the upper floors. I attempt the climb, initially unafraid, but when I get to a broken slat I recall that I’m afraid of heights, and I find I can’t go on. I back down the ladder.

I see a very gruff Russian man. He is stocky, a little paunchy, and has dark hair surrounding his bald pate. He appears to be a workman; he doesn’t speak. Yet it seems he has alerted the woman in charge, who scampers down the ladder. She is also Russian and approaches me accusingly, suspecting me of espionage. For some reason, when she demands to know my name, I give her the Russian version. Her manner at once changes; she’s gotten the idea that I am of royal lineage. She becomes pleasant, even sycophantic, and no longer wishes to bar me from the ascent. However, my own fear of heights prevents it.  I expect the workman to repair the broken slat, thinking that if here were to do so I could perhaps manage the still scary venture—but he makes no move in that direction.

I see that the gruff, bouncer-type man has a notebook. He has written a story about the woman and illustrated it. I am surprised at the sensitive and beautiful quality of his work; even though he’s left many drawings unfinished his talent is apparent. In some of his drawings the women are headless. “You are very talented,” I tell him. It’s a surprise in someone so apparently brutish. He is no longer mute, but very humble: “You are extremely talented,” he says to me. I wonder how he could possibly know that, since I have none of my work with me. We spend some more time, each of us trying to convince the other of his (her) talent.

Interpretation: My dream group helped me with this one. The dream represents a partial victory in the myth that represents my life, but also tells me I have work to do. My first challenge is getting to this difficult spot. I didn’t record the very earliest sequence of the dream, but it was about the steep path up to the strange castle. What do I see from this outlook? Is it a temple, or is it an office building. Do I pray here or do I work here? What I see from my three-windowed turret symbolizes my state of being, a mental space where work and spirit have melded.

My (spiritual) ascent is stopped by a ladder’s broken rung. The thing in need of repair centers on figures from my youth, the scary Russians who made up my family. My first task is to accept myself; I symbolically do this by owning my Russian identity, and this quickly disarms both of the threshold guardians. The woman changes from a hostile force to a benign one, and I realize the complexity of the man, who until now had seemed only brutish. The man symbolically tells me that the wellspring of creativity isn’t particularly genteel; it’s his earthiness and lack of pretension that gives art its life. The women he depicts are headless; his force is not of the intellect.

Ultimately it’s my own fear that stops me, not the physical limitation of the broken rung. The dream tells me that I mustn’t expect someone else to fix it.

Stormy Weather

Have you ever had a dream that feels otherworldly? Jung believed that dreams connect us to this mysterious realm.

The Dream: The weather descends like a spirit: erratic, tumultuous, capricious. There is a lot of rain and I wonder if all the people who have visitors—for it is the Christmas holiday season (even though the dream takes place in the spring)—are feeling the need to apologize and make excuses for the weather. “But isn’t it glorious?” I say.

At times the sky clears, and there is a patch of brilliant blue. At another time there is what looks like the stem of a funnel-shaped cloud, white, moving across the land. I am excited by, and enjoy, the quick changes and dramatic landscape.

Interpretation: This dream feels like a visitation from a divine spirit. The symbolism of the Christmas holiday, with its concept of the divine coming to earth, reinforces the feeling of the dream.