Last night I was walking along an extensive beach again. Seabirds were flying over the adjacent cliffs and shrieking loudly. A veil of hazy mist, cloudy and gray lay over the scene. The sea was calm, but on the inside I was on guard. It had surprised, attacked and pulled me down into its depths far too many times with its uncontrolled and random nature. Fortunately, so far I was always able to breathe underwater. Is that an old anchored knowledge which slumbers within me? The knowledge that life originated from water and I am naturally a part of it.

The transition from the beach to the ocean is steep like a swimming pool basin and what I see makes my hair stand on end. Down below, huge animals swim back and forth like caged tigers. Their bodies are broad and flat or shark-like, long and thin, but big, definitely too big for my taste. Why do they stay so close to the beach, I wonder?

And so my nightmare begins, how could it be otherwise, because I fall in. There is no ledge, no edge, nothing that would help me pull myself out. Everything is smooth and too high, even the few people strolling along the beach don’t see or hear me because no sound comes from my voice. The sense of fear and panic rising up in me makes me mute.

Upon waking, the feeling of fear is still there and is slowly replaced by relief. I lie in my bed even though my heart is still racing. Yes, it was once again just a dream, a very real dream. I’m still alive; no monster from the ocean has mauled me with its sharp teeth or swallowed me like Pinocchio.

Where did this dream come from again? Why am I not dreaming of the jungle or hurricanes in which I get lost or blown away. No, it’s the ever recurring element of water that takes its toll on my soul.

Recently I read a report about a woman who dreamt of water since childhood. She had been an avid sportswoman who loved extreme whitewater kayaking until her kayak suddenly flipped in some rapids and she became stuck upside down between two rocks. While she was desperately trying in vain to free herself, she knew that the water had sealed her fate. She would die here. Had she been forewarned by her dreams, did she have premonitions?

Fortunately she was rescued and CPR brought her back to life.

So, does that mean in my case that I can look forward to things to come that my life has in store for me? Up until now there was no obvious reason to be afraid of the ocean. I haven’t lived through a tsunami and didn’t ‘almost’ drown when I learned to swim or in the bathtub. In short: There was no traumatic event in my childhood that would justify this.

Which demon of dreams is dancing around in my dreams, playing his games and showing my human weaknesses during the hours when I’m at my most vulnerable?

Write to me about your recurring dreams.




~ by lillymlove on December 24, 2012.

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