I awoke, sobbing, but there was no comfort.
Nightmares were "just dreams." "Go back to sleep," I was
told. And so the nightmares continued far beyond childhood and deep into adult
life. It was the Ice Age of my dreams. My Inner Child, my dreaming self, was the
victim of abuse, living in purgatory. She ran from monsters, slipped towards the
bottomless cliff and bobbed helplessly in the tidal waves.
I awoke, euphoric, from soaring through the sky. It was the Spring of the
amazing and new. Here and there, an extraordinary dream blossomed. I was being
shown glimpses of a future potential of a healthy, mature dreaming self. The
treasure, the hidden heritage was in sight. My dreaming self was a Super Hero at
the peak of dream experience. But a solitary one.
I awoke, perplexed, from a mundane dream. My dreams were conflicted. The
deeply etched trauma of childhood rose to the surface. Dreamwork techniques
helped me wade through the flotsam and jetsam bobbing on the waves. Until they
were cleared away, it was hard to spirit surf on the Summer sea of unconscious.
I awoke, laughing, from a humorous dream. The Autumn days were long and
golden. Dreams were colorful, delightful. Playmates abounded. My dreaming self
played in an interactive Indian summer camp with other dreamers. I feasted on a
harvest of new dreams.
I awoke troubled again. It was the winter of discontent. But this time I was
pleased to discover that, after a summertime of playful exercise, my dreaming
self didn't struggle so hard. The anti-play elements were in full swing, the
dark clouds rolled in. My dreaming self was engulfed with forgetfulness, but she
didn't have nightmares.
This time, I wasn't the only one. My fellow dreamers complained of interior
torment and outer troubles. "I haven't had a flying dream in months,"
they said. "I don't remember my dreaming self having a good chuckle in a
long time," they said. "A lucid dream? What's that?" they said.
The tide had turned. I was beginning to think that the land of dreams was
experiencing a global Black Out. The challenge became, how to keep the Inner
Child healthy, growing, developing, even in the midst of the Dark Age. I became
a hermit of dreams.
Today, I awoke from a flying dream. Spring has returned. Tomorrow I start
packing for summer vacation.