“I Quit!” Dream Analysis

In December 1984, I was on the threshold of a new adventure. I was about to leave my old life behind, forever. This is the analysis of a dream I had on the night of the 4th.

Background

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Straight Pins

Having learned all the spiritual theory, I’m trying to file the esoteric information into my subconscious mind, but discover that there is a ‘false front’ there. (This is my own false front, as I’ve been trying to lead the perfect life: family man, honest banker, all-round ‘good guy’.) When I pulled the false front out, the ‘straight pins’ went flying. (I am a Sagittarius Rising individual, a ‘straight-shooter’ — teller of truth.) I ‘slip’ and my feminine (left hand) side is pricked with the pins. (Freudian ‘slip’ of the tongue?)

My outburst of temper is uncharacteristic for me. It demonstrates the level of frustration with my life at that time. (My wife, Suzann, and our girls had moved to England at the end of September and I was financing the move by remaining in work for the ensuing five months.)

But I’d had enough with the ‘goody-two-shoes’ persona I’d adopted. The ‘real’ me wanted some true expression of my inner self. (Up until then, I’d been totally faithful to my wife, but that was about to change.)

The Women

The descriptions of the seven ‘animas’ are totally accurate: I’d had hints of attraction to each type for years, but had not acted upon the impulses. Most men don’t have this dilemma, as they usually find their ‘mate’ and stick with that person for the rest of their lives. (It was suggested at one point, although I can’t remember precisely when, that relationships with these women were the result of promises that I’d made in previous lives: was I to fulfil all these promises in this single life?)

Snow Scene

The snow scene outside was a reminder of my life in Ontario: we’d been living in BC for several years by this time, and there weren’t too many snow days during those years. As luck would have it, we then lived in England in Torquay, South Devon (known as the English Riviera) and snow was infrequent there, too — it snowed twice in twenty years. The snow had the significance of leaving tire tracks which could be traced to where I’d been, and as a result, I did experience that image later, after this dream, so this was a bit precognitive.

See I Quit!
See A Canadian Reality: Snow

Picture credit: wisegeek.com

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Night Mare

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Geesulls

Night Mare

Geesulls were flying overhead as we
Ran to the beach; a fresh of breath air blew
Around our feet; a mell-of-a-hess sea
Inched its filthy way; wave after wave threw
Non-appealing items onto the shore.
Some picnic we were going to endure!
Our pill dickles might even up the score;
Fresh strawgelberries might keep our mouths pure…
The English Riviera is a sight
Reserved for those who have a stomach strong.
Of all the scenes, this causes puzzlements —
One must recoginise that pollutants,
Taking no time to right what’s been done wrong,
Have put us in this picklement: a fright!

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We’re in Prism

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Prism Colours

We’re in Prism

Consider what the Rainbow’s arch can mean
Of all the vows from ancient scripture read:
Liaisons with God’s Spirit can be seen
On top of orange clouds, when all the dead
Return to golden streets in Heaven’s sphere;
What’s known is felt within the sinner’s heart
And green grass grows when love replaces fear;
To understand someone though they’re apart
Emits a flash of blue electric light,
Reflected on the indigo third eye,
Made clear through intuition’s second sight —
Although one’s little doubts can cloud the sky —
Remember purple prose pours from the Mind;
Kryptonic chakras show we’re sealed and signed…

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Transformation

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Findhorn Magic

Transformation

Fresh breezes blow across my arid land,
Inspiring green new growth of love and life;
New trees seemingly spring up in the sand,
Dematerializing any strife.
Hot sunshine warms the soles of my cold feet,
Out-glowing little sparks in my heart,
Reaching parts that others can never meet;
No winds to shake my tranquil world apart…
Seeds can be sown in peaceful times like this;
Mother Earth bestows blessings on her child,
As nature gives each her most gentle kiss,
Guiding the world-weary in from the wild.
Into a new awareness of being,
Consciousness leaps to new ways of seeing.

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Suicidal

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Suicidal

Suicidal

Depending on the mood, I sit alone,
Experimenting with my mental state,
Experiencing extreme love and hate,
Perpetually being on my own.
Depending on your love, I face the world,
Extending my self beyond these four walls,
Propelling my fear down corridor’d halls,
Returning each night to my bed uncurled.
Ev’rything I try to do comes undone:
Some thing’s got to give way, must it be me?
Sweet sanity is precious mental health —
Insanity blocks out the Maker’s Son.
Outside the darkness is easy to see;
No thing’s in here expect for Pluto’s stealth…

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Worrier

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Worrier

Worrier

Politeness veils the truth from prying eyes,
Observing music by the silent lyre,
Which then creates a fog, like misty fire,
Enough to cloak it in a dense disguise.
Reflection bars the knowledge of the Wise,
Obstructing Spirit’s pull, which can inspire
Full life participation: the entire
Sensation seems only to dramatise
Ineffective thinking. Is this my will?
Love knocks, but I sit and wait for Its
Entry yet, without answering the call.
Nonsensical, I know, and yet I’m still
Completely baffled…Have I lost my wits?
Either that or I’m destined for a fall…

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In This Season of Joy

 

In This Season of Joy

In this season of joy, I ache for you:
Not a moment’s rest, even in my sleep;
Too much has happened; the mountain’s so steep
I can’t remember what I want to do.
Many times I’ve wondered if something new
Around the corner would change how I keep
To myself: I have never loved so deep,
Even ‘though I’ve felt quite close to a few.

What should I do about the state I’m in?
In spite of my intentions, I feel lost.
Someone once told me what would be in store:
How come? I haven’t committed a sin!
Each time I think of you, I weigh the cost:
So, what for? To love you for evermore!

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I Quit!

Going through some papers this week, I found a dream diary entry that has interesting implications: it occurred during a period of time just before I moved to the UK…

Back to School (Again)

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Straight Pins

I’m in class and am having problems with getting my textbooks into the space under my seat. As I reach down I realise that someone has put a false front in the drawer space, so I pull it out, at which point I knock over a container of straight pins. As I bend over to pick them up from the floor, I slip and my left hand is stuck with thirty or so pins.

In a temper, I yell out, “I quit!” and all my classmates look at me in astonishment. The teacher, who was absent at the time, comes into the classroom and realises what has happened, so she takes me down to the teachers’ lounge where the rest of the teachers are.

I explain that I’ve had enough and that I want out. Each of the seven teachers come up to me, kiss and embrace me and tell me how much they’ll miss me. As I’m embracing each one, I realise that they represent the seven muses and that the reason I’ve had such a difficult time finding the “perfect” mate is because I have had seven ideal images to draw on.

(I also thought back to my Jan 19/84 dream and saw that seven of the nine/ten individuals who are part of me were these same seven women.)

See Dreams: is there a higher education?

The Seven Women

The oldest teacher was a dark-haired beauty with wit and charm — she seemed to be the head teacher.

A couple of the others were blondes, one tall and winsome, the other robust (I thought she was going to break my back when she hugged me).

The redheads were diverse, too: one short and pert, the other like a model.

Another brunette lay sideways across a desk, while I picked up the straight pins from the floor of the now-deserted classroom: she asked me why I was finally going to leave. I told her that I passed all the exams long ago and that I should have gone on, years before.

Finally, in the washroom (two children were splashing in the bathtub), I drew the last brown-haired teacher to me as I was sitting on the toilet and got her to set her bare bottom on my knee (she was still dressed from the waist up). This one was the one who reminded me most of Suzann, my wife.

Dream Epilogue

Then I left the school.

Outside it had snowed, and although there seemed to be no one around, I notice a car (a Dart Swinger, I think) which seemed to be having problems getting out of the schoolyard due to the slippery ice. I decided to help her by giving the car a push and, after a short while, she drives away under her own power.

I then woke up.

Picture credit: wisegeek.com

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A Peak Experience

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The Valley Manifold

A Peak Experience

To take a break from life — its madding pace —
Has one small promise: relaxation time
Enough to recreate a balanced space
More meant for merrymaking’s mental clime.
And now I know what rest is all about;
No matter how the many roads I drive
Select a route through vale of fear and doubt,
Eventu’lly to peace I will arrive.
Whenever in the future I can’t cope,
Everted by aversions far too strong,
The thought of sharing time with you gives hope
To dis-assimilation of the throng.
Obliteration of the plan I hold
Non est supra the Valley Manifold

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Seasick, Too

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Glorious Devon

Seasick, Too

The ‘Wish you were here’ seemed so insincere;
Holiday post cards haven’t changed a bit
Even ‘though the photographs are more clear;
Herein lies the problem, there is no wit
On the back and ev’ryone seems so bored;
Lines like ‘Beautiful weather’ and ‘Good view’
Instantly turn the mind off. Had it poured
Down with rain, one could say, ‘Oh, this is new.’
As in the otherworld vacation time,
Yesteryear, it was sufficient to write
Couplets of some flowery verse in rhyme
And the people back home thought, ‘Outta sight.’
Returning to the identical place
Depresses the soul and makes one lose face.

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