work with my dreams regularly

but not working them, and i need to before they bugger off from lack of attention

i dreamt i drove my car off a bridge because there was a monkey in my car, jumping all over the place, distracting me, running under my feet. my car was hanging in mid air, over the water; hanging on a bit of twisted metal railing. the rail was so mangled, that there was a place where there was only a skinny thread of metal holding it together.

i opened the door and leapt over the gap between the car and the bridge. on the other side, i realised that the monkey and wanda (my beloved dog who died recently) were still in the car.

i walked down to the banks below, looking amongst the flotsam and jetsam for planks that i could bridge the gap with so that the monkey and wanda could get to safety. some of them looked strong but snapped in my hands. some of them looked long enough at first but when i picked them up, they were ridiculously short.

the river was the thames, i was in london. i found a good plank and carried it back. by this time joe was there and my friend b, helping me.

as i put the plank down, i saw in my mind, wanda skipping across it, in that agile, sure footed way animals have, completely unpeturbed by the fear of falling. but i didnt know whether the monkey would come out of the car of its own accord- it was wild and didnt know me.

and thats where the dream ended.

after relating it to my friend b, we started to talk about joe, my ex husband, with whom my relationship has lately gone from good but distant and practical, to being incredibly physically and emotionally close at times, and at others, very guarded. i have been over- thinking it, what it means to be feeling the things i am… whether i should speak those feelings in their entirety, whether i should let myself feel them in the first place. “should versus want” said b. “head versus heart” said i.

and then i understood- it came in a flash- the head and the heart.

the monkey- my mind. the monkey mind, a buddhist expression… jumping all over the place, causing wreckage with its wildness…

wanda- my heart, sure footed, knowing, graceful

the car hanging over the water is how i feel right now, almost too afraid to move in case the tiny thread holding it all together snaps

the monkey mind creates smoke screens, complications, distractions, uncertainty. the heart you can always trust to be honest. i build bridges for my heart and know that it’ll use them. and the monkey, well, if it doesnt want to join the team, i guess it’ll get left behind.

the dream reminded me that i believe, deeply, that the heart knows it all, and getting caught up in the mind is a terrible idea. thats what i’d been doing… over thinking, complicating things. the thinking has been redundant, because whether i get hurt or not, i’m still going to listen to my heart, because thats what’s true… the other stuff is all illusion…

my heart tells me that i dont need to know how it turns out; that i don’t need to force things to a conclusion. it’s telling me to be here, right now, and i’m going to listen to it.

the last two nights i have dreamt that my dog, wanda who was hit by a car a few weeks ago, came back to me. the curious thing is that she came so quietly. normally when she or i had been away, she would worra worra up a storm when we were together again. (a peculiar trait of the canis africanis- to talk, with great feeling and enthusiasm when the occasion demands it)

the night before i found out she was dead, i dreamt it. the man who hit her had hung his shirt by her body, so that it obscured her face. i knew before i lifted it that she was dead. the man got his lackey to retrieve his shirt and then drove away.

i miss her.

didnt remember my own dreams this morning but 3 (3!) people told me they dreamt about me last night. scott told me i was a princess/queen/priestess wearing a pink tourmaline tiara, radiant. i like it. daniel refused to elaborate!haha and b needed hugs.

i spent a couple of hours talking to my friend b’s best friend rasmus on msn last night. they had shared a bottle of vodka and b had fallen asleep, and it was rasmus that answered when i messaged b. i didnt know him but we talked, it was hmmm, entertaining… (though i’m starting to wonder if i’ve got a mental age of 20 seeing as i seem to get on so well with all these young feller me lads)

fell asleep finally at 3 am and rasmus was in my dream for hours it felt like. he was a waiter, serving me at a restaurant. our communication was minimal but he was always hovering, ever present. he managed to make me uncomfortable, off balance, off kilter with just a word here and there, with his presence.

i woke up feeling really uneasy and that feeling stayed with me through the day.

i feel that i need to set boundaries here… i think he over identified with me too quickly, i think i need to cut the energetic cords between us. so freshly made, but so disturbing.

i dreamt i was a hari krishna devotee last night, jigging my way down the street, singing, in bliss.

when i come across them for real, something funny happens to me… my skin starts to tingle and my hair stands on end (even more than it usually does)

i was telling a friend about it and she said, maybe you were one in a previous life… and maybe i was… but she went on to tell me that the women don’t get to sing and dance their way around town, but slave away in back rooms pulverising lentils and the like, and that sex is viewed as something that should be kept purely for procreation…

so hmmm i’ll keep my own kind of bliss…. and well, maybe just follow the haris around for a few minutes when i come across them every now and again, because i do so like that feeling.

hari hari, hari krishna, krishna krishna, hari hari.

didnt write down my many dreams in time and now they’re gone!

i have decided not to post them here… because it takes so long and it makes such tedious reading.

but if i have insights, ephiphanies! instances of deep healing! that arise from my dreams, i’ll let you know.

i didnt dream last night because i didnt sleep last night.

i want to write down my dreams every morning, because if i dont pay enough attention to them, i soon stop remembering.