The Bulldog and His Patriarchy

I mentioned in my previous post what fun dream archeology can be; I'm still on the trail of the bulldog.  Here's an interesting bit I found in Wikipedia:

Bulldogs have a longstanding association with 
English culture, as the BBC wrote: "to many the Bulldog is a national icon, symbolizing pluck and determination."^[6] During World War II, Bulldogs were often likened to Prime Minister Winston Churchill and his defiance of Nazi Germany.^[7] When the English settled in the Americas, their Bulldogs came with them. 

Interesting, it's definitely an English breed, but when I re-enter and check these ideas out with the bulldog in my dream, he wants me to explore further.  With a further search, I found that the reason they're called bulldogs is because back in the male fraternity of Medieval and Renaissance England, this hapless dog was bred for the sole (souless) purpose of watching it gore or be gored by a bull who was maddened beforehand by pepper blown up it's nose. It was the male sport of the day.

I digress here, but it reminds me of the story going around in my neck of the woods about people, some say the very coaches on the team, of an upscale township that shall remain nameless, (although it made the GoodWeek/BadWeek section of this week's Week Magazine), confronted with the cold reality that their kid's playing field was too wet to allow the scheduled games to commence, made the bold and mystifying decision to soak the field in gasoline and set it on fire so as to dry the field and allow the games to go on.

What planet are these people from?  How did 20 adults come to a decision so misguided and ill-advised? Yes, the field was destroyed, just for starters.  My neighbor and I were talking; he's well versed in school sports cultures, having followed his daughters teams as they grew up. We shake our heads and ask each other, how was this the decision of so many adults?

Do you see where I'm going with this?  How was bull baiting and bear baiting the decision of so many, so called, Christian adults?  

It's patriarchy.  The bulldog was bred as a symbol and a sacrifice to patriarchal insanity.  We treat patriarchy as if it's the only option we have for organizing a culture, when it's not.  Patriarchy isn't all of human history; it's a small distorted fraction. Homo sapiens (a rather ironic label for humanity as we know it, coined by an 18th century Swiss botanist) has been around for hundreds of thousands of years; "Thanks to the work of exceptional scholars like archeologist Marija Gimbutas, we know that: “The Goddess is the most potent and persistent feature in the archeological records of the ancient world, a symbol of the unity of life in nature and the personification of all that was sacred and mysterious on earth.”

Patriarchy is only some 6,000 years old! It's dualistic, focused on differences and competition; whoever pisses the farthest sets the rules for right and wrong, and uses all manner of cruelty, violence and inhumanity to enforce them.  

How can such cruelty to animals be allowed? Well, it was a sanctioned male sport until one of the first laws against cruelty to animals was passed in the mid 19th century. In patriarchy, male sports help develop the future generation of soldiers and keep the win/lose, either or mentality sharp for when war is declared.  

One of the characteristics of my dream bulldog is that he would occasionally roll his eyes, which made him look insane; then he'd resume a direct look and return to his doggie nature.  His crazy eye roll got me to pondering about the insanity of the bulldog as mascot for the patriarchal story. 


We've learned little about pre-patriarchal cultures in our history classes because history is the story the conqueror writes. In the last century, many vistas have been opened and explored.  Women have done their own scholarship and found that the male establishment's explanation of ancient artifacts and cultures has been tainted with patriarchal projection on to the ancient past, mansplaining cultures who were nothing like patriarchy in structure and function. "Goddess worshiping cultures weren’t necessarily matriarchal, they were, as Riane Eisler brilliantly presents in The Chalice and the Blade, cooperative societies." 

Ancient cultures existed that were perhaps far in advance of our own on many levels, like in using what we now call psi skills.  This internal authority of the hoi polloi was frowned upon during the brutal RC Inquisition, so we've come to be raised knowing little, discounting or sometimes fearing our dreaming.

The patriarchal paradigms reign with fear, exist in hierarchies of human worth, denigrate half the human race with misogynist rules and thinking, can only think in good/bad dualism and project their own self important image, an anthropomorphized male deity who hates women for their lack of obedience and submission, on to the Male Only Divine.

Ancient cultures weren't patriarchal.  Whatever they were before patriarchy took over with the sword, they were very interesting people, our ancestors.  And beyond a doubt, women were respected and the Goddess was revered for the gifts She gives humanity.  Goddess paradigms don't need the idea of duality, they practice the idea of the dance of life, where each person, male or female, does their best, according to what they desire to do.

But I digress, yet again. As an animus figure, Jung would have a field day with my bulldog in this dream; that's what I'm doing, too.  Just like there's a wounded Feminine Divine archetype in the patriarchal paradigm, one that Jung acknowledged, there's a wounded Male Divine archetype, too.  Actually, and fittingly so, today is the day of the international celebration of that wounding, Good Friday.

Patriarchal gods are constantly demanding sacrifice; ask Isaac how he felt about his dad's religious beliefs that almost got him killed.  Patriarchal theology is the psychic arm for the hostile takeover of  ancient spiritualities that payed great tribute to the Feminine Divine. It's easy to see how patriarchy claimed as their super power, the power to deal death.  

The Goddess is the direct giver of life.  Goddess cultures saw death as part of the cycle of a soul's journey, not an end but a new beginning. Many ancient burial sites suggest that care was taken at the body's burial to provide the soul the wherewithal to travel on. But Fear of Death is the supreme ultimate bogart in our cultural patriarchal closet; there are so many ways to mess up and the patriarchal god that rules on one's eternal continuance is demanding and hard to please.

So perhaps, as we all resurrect our way back home naturally, and quite organically, we can see in Jesus' sacrifice, not a necessary adherence to his father's terms of forgiveness for the human race, but a willing warrior for Love, who dared all by defying the strict patriarchal religion into which he was born, and paid the ultimate price to be a truly non-patriarchal man and a model for healing the wounded Male architype, the wounded Animus.  

For me, this is the day that launched my fascination with dreams, synchronicity and imagination; I call it Crocodile Friday.

Sunny Speaks to Me

My cat spoke to me in a dream a few nights ago; I love it when that happens, when animals have a dialogue with me in the dreaming.  It's always worthwhile to listen.

It was kind of funny because, as in waking life, my old gentleman is hard of hearing, so I was speaking right to his face, so he could lip read and enunciating to be as clear as possible.

He was telling me about his mother and father; I asked him to tell me more about his dad.  I don't know if he heard me correctly, but he answered "fathers are important", or something like that.

Of course it put me in mind of my own departed dad, how important he is in my life.  From there, a host of other beneficial ponderings ensued.

But how cool is it to hear an animal speak in a dream!  I laugh because in the dream I thought he sounds a lot like me but in a lower register.  Part of me is aware in the dream that it is all coming from me, for my sake.

Talking animals are the stuff of fairy tales, and dreams.  The fact that it's my beloved waking life cat conversing with me makes it even more thrilling.  Sunny is the most psychic cat I've ever lived with, from the beginning he acted like he just read your mind.  It's fun to have him show up with me in a dream, let alone talking.

There's a trickster, but deeply divine energy to the wisdom animals impart in dreams.  I collect my animal dreams in one file; I reread them often and value the energy and significance each one has gifted me from the dream lands.  Different animals gift different energies to the dreamer they visit.  I figure it's up to me to recognize the gift and honor it by paying attention and learning the lesson offered.

What animals have visited you lately in the dreaming?

Dream Inspirations

Last week I recorded a dream in my journal I titled, "Two Lions and Two Bears" in honor of the animals in it. I posted a challenge on my Lita Dreaming Facebook page  for anyone to write a story with that title.  While waiting for any responses, I wrote a poem from my dream.

Dreams inspire us to create, to live life with our full heart.

Two Lions and Two Bears

Dream Poem

I saw the man

Open his back door

And release the Black Lion.

Beautiful, beautiful

Beast.

I saw the man

Cross the Street

And release the second Lion.

This Lion,

The Tan Lion

Lived across the street from him.

And he was old.

Two Lions loose.

Should we tell the people?

Beware!

Two Lions

Turn into

Two Bears

Two Bears at the door.

Enter the bears,

We exit,

Through the same door,

With  curtseys.

Into the next room

Until the bears

Enter, again.

The two bears

That were once, two lions.

The Inner Child

photo by Luba Rasine; The Sparkly Water

When I'm feeling inexplicably sad or the like, I look for my Inner Child to check on how she's doing.  I use the Active Dreaming technique of journeying to meet her in a familiar place, usually a dream place.

When I journeyed to meet her today, I was surprised and deeply re-assured to meet my wonderful friend, Bear, the huge grizzly that once scared the pajamas off me in a "nightmare." It also made sense, because as Robert Moss frequently points out, the Inner Child will often feel protected and comforted by large animal guides.

To begin with, I sat in silence with my feelings of sadness to see where they traced, and yes, my little girl was sad.  As often happens in dreams and journeys, the unexpected takes over and something real happens; I know it's real because it's so unexpected.  I witnessed her tears and bent to comfort her where she sat curled into herself, and that's when I felt the presence of Grizzly Bear from that long ago dream.  After that, I had flashing images of all the Black Bear guides that have been showing up in my dreams frequently over the past few years. Each image gave me huge comfort and a true sense of being loved and assisted. Finally, I saw this wonderful scene from a card I have by Hillary Bird; a little girl in a teepee with a bear, sitting crossed legged opposite each other, obviously deep in warm conversation, though they are depicted as silhouettes against the beautifully painted canvas of the tent glowing from within.

Relief from sadness flooded me, as it became my little girl in that teepee telling Bear all she was feeling.  She wasn't talking about past stuff alone, she was talking about what "I" was feeling now, she wasn't even talking to me, the observer/big sister.  My restlessness, lack of productivity and despondency were inexplicable to me, not at all caused by anything in my environment I couldn't fix; well, most of it anyway, (what I can't fix, I choose to accept in love).  Bear listened and Bear advised.  The shift I felt is comparable to leaving a great therapy session. I am so grateful.

The Inner Child has been on my mind for another reason, too. One student I'm working with has a clear image of a five year old self from a dream of that age; thus, she has a portal to genuine interaction with that aspect of herself and is exploring what she might learn developing this inner relationship. It's fun for me as a dream guide because I can readily identify with the experience of first connecting to my own five year old self through a dream and synchronicity experience 15 years apart.  I share that with you in Crocodile Friday.

What is the "Inner Child"?  To be objective, I did a quick search and got:

 "... a person's supposed original or true self, especially when regarded as damaged or concealed by negative childhood experiences."
 

"...inner child is our childlike aspect. It includes all that we learned and experienced as children, before puberty. The inner child denotes a semi-independent entity subordinate to the waking conscious mind." (my underline:-)

I know from my own studies and practice as a counselor, that there are many good psychological theories of the gifted/wounded inner child and its effects on our emotions, behavior and self-image. In my view, no theory around will give me a better insight into my own inner child than connecting with her, just as if I wished to reconnect with any friend or relative.  I'd make the effort to see and talk to them; to listen to how their life is going and catch up. 

One of the many gifts of a dream practice like Active Dreaming is that things go from the theoretical to the poignantly personal and experiential very quickly.  You're consciously exploring dreaming locales in a spirit, energy or imaginal body.  I don't think any amount of talking, Left brain, analysis or theorizing can yield such rich results so quickly. In my experience, genuine interaction flows from Right brain, creative approaches to engaging the dream character, symbol or place. 

In Robert Moss's wonderful book, "The Boy Who Died and Came Back: Adventures of a Dream Archaeologist in the Multiverse" he writes:

We are at the center of all times. The dramas of lives being lived in other times and in parallel realities may be intensely relevant to understanding and navigating our current relationships and life issues.  We can learn to reach into those other lives to share gifts and lessons.  We can dialogue with our own older and younger selves within our present lifetimes.  We must entertain the spirits, starting with our very own - the child self, the inner artist, the passionate teen, the animal spirits the creative daimon.  p. 13.

One would think that we'd welcome our little girls and boys home to us with open arms, like we might do puppies or kittens, but I've noticed in my own and others' experience that there can be quite a bit of resistance.  Why is that? What sometimes comes up is a very judgmental adult ego self, one that will not let that little kid be flawed in any way, who might want to get away from that little child and who needs to learn love and compassion for that child before that "inner child" may agree to come home for a re-union.   This was a fascinating discovery for me, one that time and again, my dreams have assisted in clarifying.  Like all inner work, depending on the degree of trauma suffered in childhood, it may require wise, compassionate counseling to undertake in highly traumatic cases.

When I encounter in myself unwillingness to embrace an aspect of myself, especially a child aspect as she manifests, I want to face my own resistance.  If she won't talk to me, it's up to me to figure out what it will take to strengthen our bond, to make her comfortable with me and me with her, to "entertain" her.  I ask myself, what am I holding back? Am I judging this child for something?  Has this child's voice gotten overlaid by an older self, inhibited, saddened or repressed?  What I want to see is her smile, her joy, her bliss and the bond of our mutual love. After my journey to meet her, I went for a walk on the beach - with her.  One seagull was screaming as they do and part of me wondered how to understand its cry, what it's trying to say, until I saw my little imaginary companion hopping after it on one leg imitating its call.  What a lesson in child vs. adult nature that was!

She isn't just an imaginary aspect of myself dominated by my waking ego ("subordinate to the waking conscious mind"), she's as "real" as "I" am. In the Dreaming, all time is NOW.  Ignoring her distress, distress that is an undercurrent of my waking ego's feeling experience, is not only unkind, it's unwise. Our soul aspects in the inner world, perhaps what Jung meant by complexes, have a life and "mind" of their own. My relationship with my inner child is that, a relationship.  The illusion of being in control which the ego perpetuates becomes evident when, like in my case, sadness would out, regardless of my ego's effort to ignore or over-ride it.  "I" prefer a sunny disposition and a good sense of humor, so I was having none of this weepy child.  My little girl "Inner-Child" was demanding and directing my attention from my external, waking world to my ever-present inner world. The minute I relented and journeyed to meet her, I witnessed Bear come to her immediately and felt awed by Bear as I recognized again, Bear's numinous nature.  What a gift to me to be reminded of something so strengthening and powerful that I experienced in a dream long ago.

What my inner child is, is less important than who she is.  Who she is harbors some of who I am that I may want to reclaim now; plus, she may need me to feel totally loved and accepted again, as every child should feel.  One of the easiest ways to do that is through the portal of dream/play.

Remembering childhood dreams or dreams featuring little children, writing them down, drawing or using any creative expression to manifest the energy they contain for our waking life, can bring our little selves back to us, helping us each feel our genuine core of joy.  Dreams don't get old; they belong to a realm where time is irrelevant.  Exploring childhood dreams and memories as if they were dreams through Active Dreaming can open floodgates of creative and caring energy blocked, perhaps, by shutting out the little person we each once were.

Here's a toast from that magical poet of the inner child, Shel Silverstein, who crossed over in 1999:

“If you are a dreamer come in
If you are a dreamer a wisher a liar
A hoper a pray-er a magic-bean-buyer
If you're a pretender come sit by my fire
For we have some flax golden tales to spin
Come in!
Come in!”

Crocodile Friday

Today is Good Friday; Christians all over the world commemorate the sacrifice Jesus made on their behalf, a sacrifice rooted in extreme LOVE.

For me, today is also Crocodile Friday. Let me tell you why.

When I was a little girl, around 5 years old, living in Havana with my mom, dad, big brother and collie, I had my first Big Dream. It was Good Friday and in those pre- revolution times, Good Friday was a religious holiday observed by all business, media and people. I didn't grow up in a religious household, just a loving one. As usual in those halcyon days, I got up and had the whole day to play on my swings, draw or find some other enchanted occupation for myself.

Graciela, the wonderful Afro-Cuban woman who came to help my mom, was in the kitchen chopping carrots. I ran in to say hi and she was uncharacteristically curt with me. In a firm voice she said; "No nina, vete, que tengo este cuchillo y el diablo esta suerto hoy, y alomejor te corto sinquerer." Meaning, "No little one, get out; I have this knife and the devil is loose and I might cut you accidentally." Needless to say, I made a bee line for my swing set in the front yard. But then, I was afraid to swing, just in case, so I sat and thought about what Graciela had said.

I might have forgotten all about it after a while because next thing I know, it was bed time and I'm kissing my mom and dad goodnight; they were watching a Passion Play, which was the only thing being televised. In the middle of the night I woke up from a big ass nightmare, crying.

In my dream, I know that there is a gargantuan crocodile standing in the bathtub. I see it in my child mind's eye, just towering in the bathtub. I do the only sensible thing and scream for my parents to come and get me.

Spring ahead 13 or so years later and I'm a Freshman English major in college. Reading Joseph Frank's, Literature of the Bible, I come across a footnote on the creature Leviathan in the Book of Job. To paraphrase (as I no longer have the book handy) he says that Leviathan is often depicted as a humongous crocodile and identified with Satan. I hadn't remembered my crocodile dream until that moment when it came slamming into my consciousness like the huge dream train slams into the station in the movie, Hugo. I sat there and marveled; how could a five year old child know this? As a Freshman, I hadn't read Carl Jung's work on the collective unconscious, but my deep curiosity about dreams and the nature of dreaming began that day.

In Jung's view, and this is something that contributed to his rejection of Freud's dream theories, the unconscious is not just a repository for suppressed, uncivilized and aggressive impulses. (No wonder people don't want to look into that velvet dark.) To Jung, the unconscious is a vast inner space, (to borrow a phrase from the brilliant Sci-fi author, Ursula LeGuin), a space that offers both creativity and healing and is accessed in dreams. Part of that space is the collective unconscious, the source of all that binds humanity as one, home to the Archetypes of human kind.

I've since learned that Cuba is thought to resemble a semi-submerged crocodile, because the island is shaped like one and that there is a species of crocodile, one of only four in the new world, that's found primarily in Cuba and is called the Cuban Crocodile. It's known for leaping straight up from the water in order to catch prey mid air. I didn't know this till just recently; imagine!

My Crocodile visitation is an ongoing source of fascination to me. Since I discovered this particular animal archetype in my childhood bathtub, I've come to see many aspects of the image. Today, She is the Babylonian Queen of the Ocean, Tiamat, the primordial dragon, and She is fearsome. She is Howling Mary, the slain Feminine archetype who came to me in my Howling Mary dream, biding her time, letting her presence be known. http://litadreaming.blogspot.com/2011/08/howling-mary.html And, haven't you ever seen those wonderful little front yard shrines to Mary in an upended bathtub? Yes, it's Mary in that bathtub, too.

This is the power of dreaming. This is how Big Dreams often come, as childhood or early nightmares. Perhaps, with apologies, the dream source impacts us with nightmares and hopes we've got the good sense to explore the message further.

I don't want to skip over the role of Devil in my early totem dream. Certainly, I would never romanticize or cutesy up the crocodile; never do I want to come face to face with one in waking life, (unlike my elephant totem which I've met on both sides).

I hold that the devil is the invention of patriarchal religions, as is dualistic thinking and the hierarchical paradigm. Goddess inclusive religions tend to see things cyclically: birth, life, death, birth again, mirrored in the seasons of earth. Death isn't evil, it's part of life. We're all capable of good and evil. The Devil is part of a dichotomy that projects evil as one Absolute, the opposite of Good, God. As Jung taught, it's dangerous to project our own dark shadow on to others and as Jesus taught, don't look for the mote in your neighbor's eye unless you remove the plank from your own.

But tomes like the 15th century classic, The Malleus Maleficarum or The Hammer of Witches, written by two Dominican monks as a guide for Inquisitors, are monuments to blind projection and provide ample evidence of the malice, cruelty and misogyny of the medieval Christian Church. In those illustrious times of male bullying, women were leagued with the devil, at least any woman who showed the least bit of spine and independence, owned property that could be taken from her, or just knew too much.

If Woman is maligned by being linked with the devil, the serpent and the apple, the fall from grace, the first one to sin, then no wonder Mary is pissed off and there's a crocodile waiting for me in the bath tub; waiting to talk to me, to teach me.

On Crocodile Friday, I honor the Great Mother and I honor Jesus, her beloved Son. I honor Spring and I honor Dreams. Blessed Be.

Dream Humor

I love to pick a theme or image or guide or animal or something that I can trace back through my dream journals and see what comes up. This means I scan my dream titles and speed read the journal entry to see if what I'm looking for is in this dream.

On such a quest, I discovered this incredible gem of a dream from a year ago. I'm posting it just as I recorded it in my journal. I didn't do any more than write it down and I don't even remember dreaming it, but oh, what a wonderful laugh it gave me now. I also read it to my husband and several friends and we all love it.

For sheer sense of humor, this is a powerful dream, let alone, for the rich layers of meaning I can mine in the characters, plot and action; yet, it's not until now, one year later that I realize what a cool dream it is. Keeping a dream journal pays off in the short and long run.

April 12, 2010
My Pet Gorilla

My parents and I have a gorilla in our care. They tend to be really strict with him and deprive him of many things he wants to keep him in line. They go out and I’m in charge. I decide that what he needs is to enjoy some of what he wants, so I take him to the mall and give him some money and tell him to behave. I have to leave and I say I’ll meet him later., He’s a little more rambunctious than I would have liked, but, all in all, he’s well within reasonable behavior, I think.

Barnacle Ganesha: A Waking Dream Gift

Yesterday, I had the wonderful opportunity of teaching Active Dreaming to a diverse group of professionals engaged in Masters’ level studies in experiential health and healing. It’s thrilling to be with such talented, accomplished and motivated people. It’s especially thrilling to share with them a dreaming practice I know will benefit them personally and aid them in the awesome work they do to help others.

If I were to coin a bumper sticker from this experience it would echo a theme that the program coordinator mentioned several times, the best things happen when you trust your heart and get out of your own way.

Get Out of My Way My Own Self

My workshop was titled; “Active Dreaming as Eco Dreaming”.

In an unpleasant synchronicity, while I was preparing my presentation on Friday, my neighbor was having a healthy maple tree professionally removed. Whatever the reason for cutting down the tree, witnessing the act, the men with loud saws, ropes and huge bucket truck, was a nerve jarring and saddening experience. I escaped to walk the beach just steps from my house and down 20 feet from street level.

I walked a mile to the pier reflecting on this irony. We're alienated from Nature without and from our own nature, our dreams, within. How fortunate for this teaching opportunity; perhaps I can help heal a piece of this disconnect through my dream work. Thinking this, I turn around and head home, offering my gratitude to Mother Ocean. As I approach the stairs to go back up, while crossing a small patch of shallow water with lots of seaweed and shells, I see a yellow object partially covered in the sand.

Curious, I bend to pick it up, realizing as I get a closer look that it’s none other than Lord Ganesha! OMG! Can the universe get any funnier? Elephant has been a dream animal guide to me for decades, as I’ve mentioned before. Here is this gift from the universe, a true synchronicity, a meaningful coincidence according to the man who coined the term, Dr. Carl Jung. It made me feel happy, blessed and confident. Plus, I just love the barnacles; baby barnacles!

The Hindu Elephant headed God, Ganesha, is revered in India. Did Lord Ganesha come all the way from India here, or just from across Long Island Sound? I Googled “Ganesha Lord of Dreams” to see if I got a good hit on it, but instead I found that Ganesha confers Success, presides over Beginnings, Education, and Knowledge, among other things. I took my marvelous Barnacle Ganesha with me to place as my elephant totem on my dream altar at the workshops.

In one of the sessions I led, during a group round of Lightning Dreamwork, a dreamer shared a dream that began in a gift shop. Gifts from our dreams and gifts from our waking dreams can inspire us as we work to transform our culture into one with a sustainable future.

Amazing Grace.

Animal Buddies and Spirit Guides

Thoughts live in the brain, images live in the heart. Much of waking language is left brained, rational; most of dreaming language is image, right brain stuff in waking.

This is why dream totems, animal spirits, can be such a tremendous psychic help to a dreamer, regardless of their age. I have many wonderful animal visitors in my dreams; I'm sure I'll share more about others in the future. Number one on my dream totem pole is Elephant. Elephant was first introduced to me in a dream my first husband had of me. I grew up with the image but his dream sealed the deal for me; Elephant became my totem. I often wear Elephant as jewelry and have images of her everywhere in my house.

Elephant has visited me in dreams for many years. My banner on this blog is one beautiful example. In that dream: I'm watching these wonderful mother and baby elephants dance on the beach. I hear the music. I wake up filled with joy.

Here's an Elephant synchronicity I love. In the 70's, when I lived in Rochester, NY, I met a young man at a community event who loved to draw. We sat down at a table to talk and as we spoke, he drew on a small piece of paper. I wasn't wearing anything to give away my totem and we hadn't touched on that subject at all. At the end of our chat, he handed it to me. I've posted it for your delight and mine. (Just don't call me Addie, not a nickname I prefer.)

Totems are like rock star body guards you carry in your heart. They jump out and protect you by giving you of their spirit; who's going to mess with an elephant; yet, most people like them. I think they're wise and kind and beautiful.

Many Animal Spirits have manifested in my dreams; each has given me an energy I've used in waking life.

So who are you're totems?

When Animals Speak

I was reading an essay by Ursula Le Guin in her collection; "The Language of the Night," this morning. Le Guin is a brilliant science fiction author who dabbles heavily in Jung. She's talking about fantasy and the knee jerk reaction she's encountered with people disaproving of fantasy stories. I just started to read it, so I'm sure I'll find more gems, but this caught my attention. She quotes Von Franz's article, "The Problem of Evil in Fairytales":

"In this labyrinth where it seems one must trust to blind instinct, there is...one, only one, consistent rule or 'ethic': Anyone who earns the gratitude of animals, or whom they help for any reason, invariably wins out. This is the only unfailing rule that I have been able to find."

That's pretty much how I feel about dream animals. I always feel blessed when a dream animal shows up, and if they talk to me, even better. Sometimes they really scare me to the core; sometimes I am totally awed by them and sometimes they awaken deep confidence and the feeling of being unconditionally loved. Often, it's all these things at once. How about for you?

I have the great honor of meeting from time to time with a group of curious dream explorers. Last meeting, we journeyed into a big dream starring one of our dreamers and a sizeable black panther who spoke to him. It was wonderful; this animal fired each of our imaginations and I think gave the dreamer something to "chew" on for a while. How's that for a dream image?

In my night dreams all this year, I've had the great honor to encounter a black German Shepherd/wolf/man guide. I'll probably come back to this sometime. I just want to share with you that I do think animal dreams are great gifts. These are among the dreams I try to preserve in my journals and ponder in my imagination for a good long time. Robert Moss says some wonderful things in our DVD series and in his books about animals in dreams.

Since my cats often speak to me in dreams, here's Sunny looking like he has something to say.