The Messenger

One reason it's a good idea to illustrate your dreams is that the illustration itself will elaborate on your unconscious process. Don't think about the illustration too much as you do it; follow the dictates of your unconscious. Once you've created your illustration--a doodle, a mandala, a collage, whatever you feel like--look at the shapes and colors for more information. 

The Dream: I am in a Victorian house, standing in its large, high-ceiling entry. The bell rings, and through the door's frosted glass I see a messenger holding a fat manila envelope. I open the door to take it. I think he's going to leave, but instead he pounds on the door, cracking it, and then extends one hand through the hole he's made. At first I think he's about to give me “the finger.” Instead, he grabs me, forcing himself in. As he attacks me I scream for Clark. I know he's not in the house, but I'm hoping that if the intruder thinks he is he will be frightened off. I awaken in terror.

Interpretation: This dreadful dream ushered in my birthday. I'm being giving a message in a very forceful way. Will I get it? The frosted glass hints at my lack of clarity. The “finger” reminded me of these lines from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam:

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.

My conscious awareness, here represented by Clark, is not at home. The dream is pointing to something deeply unsettling that's important for me to grasp. The timing, on my birthday eve, tells me this issue is a matter of “life or death”-- metaphorically—for me: I must come to terms with my mortality. The colors I unconsciously chose to illustrate the dream tell me where I am in my acceptance of my inevitable death. I'm in a gray and black space (not happy with the idea), but the messenger and his space are green, the color of growth. At some point I'll be able to accept my part in the cycle of life.

At Last I Count

Another dream in the series that shows some sort of psychic “progress.”  
The Dream: In a contest to place a noose-like rope around a hook that is far above. To get to it I have to climb, and then balance on the knob of a dresser pull. I don't think I can do it. It looks precarious, scary, impossible. A kind and patient person shows me how: in some inexplicable way the feat is related to some sort of artistic achievement. I try, and to my joy I find it feels very secure and easy! I am thrilled and surprised. I go back down, trying to remember which drawer I balanced on and not sure I know how I did it, but very pleased with myself. I think I might have won the competition. I am given a fat business envelope with a glassine window. My name is written in a foreign language, and there is no recognizable last name, but the title, in Italian, of countess follows my name.

Interpretation: I need to win out over something that is choking me (the noose), and to do it I have to stretch myself in a way that I find uncomfortable and scary. An inner guide (the kind and patient person) shows me the way. The artistic achievement is a metaphor for my spiritual path, and the effort that becomes effortless signals a breakthrough. Having succeeded in passing the (con)test I'm given an affirmation (I'm a countess: one who counts) even though it's still difficult for me to understand (it's in a foreign language).