Wildcat's Soul

Thursday, March 10, 2005
Dream Flashes?

Last night I had what seemed to be two very short dreams, more like dream previews. The first is like part of a recurring dream that I suspect has a great deal to do with inner conflict. The other character in this dream is horribly disfigured, having the appearance of one whose outer flesh has been burned off, and who makes his way by writhing along. This is a good, kind soul in pain, seeking to help me and protect me. In spite of this being's appearance, there is no repulsion or disgust in looking upon him. We seem to be trapped in a small area with a door, and I'm picturing the surroundings as being tan or light brown. But we are not alone. Occasionally, there is a dark being or presence that tries to get to me through the door. This dark presence is the same in appearance as the good one that is with me, but I know it to be too horrible to look upon, even though I haven't seen it. It is only the combined strength of myself and my friend that keeps the dark presence from being successful in reaching me. I started having this dream fairly recently and have had it, I think, three times. I wake with a start from it, and relief.

Last night, another mini-dream followed the recurring one. It was mainly about Daniel, with Steven and me in the dream as well. Steven and I were sitting at the computer, side by side, and Daniel was sitting on the couch to our left, a few feet away. I kept hearing Daniel, making a sound like he was trying to hold back laughter, a kind of snickering sound, or so I though. After a few minutes of this, I looked over wondering what he was laughing about, and found that he was crying, deeply, and that it was growing in intensity. It was as though something had wounded him to the very core of his soul, something from which he would never recover. It was the kind of cry you think will never end. You think you might even die from it. I have cried this way before so I knew. I was immediately overcome with empathetic feelings of sadness and sorrow for him. It hurts more than anything to see your child hurt at all, but especially in some life-altering way. Then I woke up.

Wildcat @ 7:52 AM | permalink |

mane

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