My journey has been recorded on this blog for one and half years now. I have enjoyed sharing my stories, hoping they have been helpful for some, entertaining for others, or perhaps both.
Today I am posting my dream from last night. I have shared my dreams because, I feel dreams have been very much underrated, the importance of paying attention to the messages can be very helpful in relation to our worries. Although we often have silly or seemingly unimportant dreams, it is our mind in its calm state attempting to assist us in our waking state. My worries can often overwhelm me, so I understand the importance of dreams and the spirits which are there to guide me.
January. 15, 2020
In the dream I was on the top of a volcano with a man I cannot say that I know, yet in the dream he was my companion. I won’t say friend, because it seemed we had just recently met and he had a specific purpose for being with me.
On the top of the mountain, the vista was truly amazing, as if there were no greater heights possible to achieve. Behind me as I looked at the incredible view, was this man explaining the purpose of our experience. Where we were standing, impossible as it seemed, was an opening with a sheer drop to places unseen, indicating this was a volcano. We were standing on the outside slope, which was also a sheer drop to places unseen. Behind me, where the man was standing, was the rim of the volcano which was wide and flat like a table. He was explaining something to me which I only understood once I had awakened from my sleep. He was explaining this was the place where a man of importance was sacrificed, his life taken at this sacred location. Although in the dream I did not seem to know who was sacrificed, in my heart as I write this, I understand the meaning of this message.
Two things happened in a split second, as his story was being told. First it was as though we both suddenly came out of a trance to wonder how we got where we were standing. It was a sheer drop, there was no path to walk up, and we were without climbing gear. So how did we get to this spot and why were we brought here, where did the information come from? It seemed to be in this exact moment, I saw myself from behind, walking out the gates of a village somewhere, presumably below this mountain. I was taking a chance to do so. On the other side of the gates stood a man in a uniform who I presumed was looking for me. The reason I say this is because the man was Patrick, my ex-husband who abandoned me last year. Seeing him provoked a response of fear, the understanding clear – he must not see me.
In the moment I woke from this dream, the questions seemed to be answered, but at the same time, they produced more questions that are unclear to me as I write this. I understood that the man sacrificed on the volcano gave his life believing he was saving mine. My walking through those gates was a representation of the mixed blessings in my life. My freedom was perhaps not the freedom hoped for as the man at the top of the world gave up his life. The price of our personal relationship, was to be subjected to men like Patrick, who were responsible in their own way for keeping me in prison. My connection to this man who gave his life for me, indicates through this dream, there is an ethereal thread which can never be broken, not even in death. It was with trepidation, the “me” I saw in this dream, walked out of the safety of that gated village onto the streets, the journey taking me to places yet unknown. The protecting spirit of the man, sacrificed on the mountain, something I realized was necessary in order to guide and protect me through the rather complicated maze I have walked through during my lifetime.
Riding home on the bus yesterday afternoon, I was with a new acquaintance, who was seeing this incredible journey for the first time. I tried to remember what it was like to be him, watching this sculpted world called the cloud forest go by. It seems impossible, but the truth is, the journey is a new experience each time I go, so in its way, it is always the first time. I am reminded of my morning drives to work in the Cypress Hills, which was a new and wonderful experience each day. I never tired of my drives to work, rather I looked forward to the opportunity.
To say I am grateful for my life here, is an understatement. Watching the clouds, which at times filled the depths below, and at others, dissipated to expose the dramatic scenes, fills me with awe. I found myself wishing I was a condor so I could hover in one place, then allow the thermals to carry me somewhere new. To see the world from such heights, an unobstructed view, something I have felt only in my dreams. An airplane, or a bus driving on the edge of the road seeming as if it too could take flight, cannot be equally compared to the freedom of the condor.
As we left the valley of Plaza Gutierrez, I caught a glimpse of my friend Sapphire as he flew through the clouds. (See vangodiary/My Travel Diary for references) I felt I was being welcomed back, an escort awaiting my arrival, his protection felt as we wound our way through the mountains. At Pucará, he flew through the thin clouds towards me just above the tree line, his timing impeccable his flight path unwavering, bringing him so close to the bus. My heart skipped a beat, excitement real as I felt his presence deep inside, although he was now flying beside us. We rounded the corner, so I lost sight of him, but coming into Apuela, there he was with his family, circling, riding the thermals, a gift we can only hope for.
Before turning in for the night, I felt uneasy, the source of my concern, could at this time come from several sources since there is much going on, both for me personally, and for Intag. I realized I was afraid, fear causing frustration, forcing my determination to get things done. The moments of anger and frustration, outward symptoms that I feel threatened, although the source remains hidden. I realized, being calm, finding peace in the moments before I went to sleep were very important. To let go of what I thought could happen, replacing the fear attached to those thoughts, with calmness.
I feel it was my inner flight through the mountains yesterday, and my concerns about the project I am working on, which oppose each other, inspired the dream, a gift from spirit. The moments worrying about my plans, worrying about what people think of me for attempting this project, were causing me to feel the familiar hopelessness connected to my past. (See vangodiary/The Spirit of Dreams for the connection to these thoughts). The thought of giving up to avoid the possible humiliation made me see how my fear was causing my frustrated reactions once more.
There was peace from understanding the sources of the war inside my mind. As the bombs went off in my thoughts, clarity seemed to push its way onto the battlefield allowing me to let go of “fear” to become peaceful. The reward was this beautiful dream, telling me once more – giving up is not an option, I must trust the path I am on, trust the spirit which has guided me to this moment.
Fear stops us from living a full life, it stops us from achieving our goals, robbing us of the pleasure possible success, provides. If we truly believe in something then we must stand strong against that which can destroy what we are trying to create. Failure is another form of success, so it should not be something we fear. It only means there was something more for us to learn.
Often I have spoken in my posts, the value of signs, dreams and the messages received. It seems to me this is an art which has been lost in the busyness of our lives, its importance reduced greatly, as our connection to that which is unseen dissipates. For me it seems to bring peace, this idea that I am not alone when I am by myself. To believe there are unseen forces helping me find my way, despite how lost I may feel helps me to trust in the idea of putting one foot in front of the other – just one more step, one more day, as I face my fears. Together with those I choose to accept as my spirit guides, my messengers, my devoted loved ones, I find the courage to try again, to believe in hope and success, to believe in people once more.
Always when I travel on the bus, the person sitting beside me wants to know where I am from, where I live and am I alone. Their surprised looks and the tone of their voice when I say “yes I am alone” indicates this is not something they would do. So with each new person who seems to admire me for having the courage to come here on my own (or maybe they think I’m crazy), I find I am more and more grateful for those unseen, who continue to give me support. My dreams have alway been an important part of my journey, weaving a thread which became a lifeline. Without them, I would not have had the courage to come here, to face the many uncertainties which threatened to destroy me. I suppose we find hope in our own way, whether in the end we are deluding ourselves or not, is not really important. As they say, “It is the journey, not the destination which is important”.