My cousin and his wife
welcomed two gorgeous little girls into the world this past week. I haven’t met
them yet, and I am very much looking forward to lots of cuddles!
I often dream about
our own baby or babies around the time that a friend or family member had a
child. This week was no exception.
I dreamt I was holding
my baby boy. He was about six weeks old and we were in a temple-like building.
There were a lot of people there and I didn’t recognise any of them. A group of
about six men were standing on a platform next to an altar. The best way to
describe these men was that each of them was a mix of a monk, a druid, and a grim
reaper. They were dressed in dark brown robes with hoods that covered their
heads and faces. I knew they were very old.
A ceremony started in
which I was to hand over my son to the men so that they could take him to their
monastery (for want of a better word) to teach him their “ways”.
I felt I had no choice
in giving up my son, until a grey haired old woman with plenty of wrinkles and
age spots quietly glided up to me and whispered “run”.
As often happens with
dreams my son and I were instantaneously in another place. It was a road that actually
exists and links the town I grew up in to one of the neighbouring towns. I was
running up the gravelled verge of the road and trying to wave down cars. I held
my baby boy out to get people to see that he needed their help.
The men from the
temple were following me, but they were gliding rather than walking. Their
robes were so long that I couldn’t see their feet, but I knew their feet weren’t
touching the ground. I was terrified.
As they drew closer a
yellow car pulled up to help us. I’m not very good in identifying cars but it
looked like a Buick from the 1970s but it had four doors instead of two. The
back door opened. I couldn’t see any of the occupants, but I started to get in the
car anyway. It was the only option my son and I had left. The men from the
temple were extremely close to us now.
That is where the
dream ended. I don’t know if we made it into the car or whether the men caught
us. I don’t know who the occupants of the car were. Were they dangerous? Were they
going to help us? Were they part of the monastery and actually deceiving me?
Was I going to lose my son?
I woke up in a state
of panic and unsure where I was for a moment. Then, like all dreams about our
children, I was sad and my arms felt empty.
I’m still not
completely sure what this dream means. It wasn’t a conglomeration of things
that had happened in recent days or weeks – I certainly haven’t met any men recently
that are a mix of druids, monks, and the grim reaper. I haven’t driven, let
alone walked, the road between my home town and its neighbour.
The most obvious
interpretation is that with the birth of my cousin’s daughters my mind is once
again processing our loss and I still hold onto the wish that I could do
something to keep my children from harm.
But I’m not sure that
the dream is only about that. Lately I have been struggling with my work and my
creativity. I have been wondering if writing is really what I want to do, and I’ve
been close to giving it up and trying something else – something that might be easier.
Is the baby perhaps a representation of my creativity?
I’m going to leave
this entry here rather than ramble on about it. I will be reflecting on the dream
some more, and will write about it again next week.
I would be very
interested on any ideas you may have regarding what this dream could mean.
Later this week I want
to write about another aspect of the birth of my cousin’s daughters.
So, til then…
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