I had a dream last night that I’m sharing with you partly so I’ll remember it but also because it may speak to you as it did to me.
I’ve always considered dreams to just be something our mind does to process our experience or a time where we can access our imagination and the treasures of our mind. However, some books I’ve been reading recently have intrigued me in the power of dreams to not just access our unconscious but to also tap into something deeper than that…this is why I’ve been paying particular attention to them of late and perhaps why I’ve noticed more of them recently.
The dream last night was almost marvel or DC Comic-like in its plot. Where several people were waging against a tyrant with the intent for destruction and domination. His hunger was for control, for all to surrender to his power and to be under his influence and doing his bidding.
His cronies were destroying someone – perhaps it was even me (or part of me?) – who was daring to speak up and stand up to him.
And then I saw the master himself, smooth-tongued and hell-bent on destruction. He had gathered some people to him who could take a stand against him.
He was telling them the contracts they had taken with him – the deals to keep safe, but keep small. He was promising them their safety if only they bent to his will.
And then one of the people in that line said ‘but this contract isn’t signed in my true name’.
It wasn’t a trick that the person had played upon this tyrant, signing with a fake name to deceive and render the contract null and void.
It was deeper than that – the realisation that the role we step into of worker, carer, well-behaved, rebel – is not the true nature of who we are and the power we give away doesn’t have to be our path in life.
For we have different names – that speak to our soul’s calling and the irrevocable belonging that is our right.
It reminds me of the final main scene in the Labyrinth when the female lead, Sarah, breaks the spell of the Goblin King, realising that the only power he has over her is the power she gives away to him.
And it also reminds me of this beautiful poem by David Whyte from RIVER FLOW: NEW & SELECTED POEMS:
I can’t say I know my ‘name’ yet – and I’m not fully acquainted with my wild mouth and my song – and perhaps it’s naive to think that I will get ‘there’ in a swift, decisive moment or that it’s a fixed thing.
But I do know that the roles I’ve complied with in life – the carer, the ‘well behaved’, follower of rules, striver of excellence – are not ‘it’ and I feel the call within – the possibility of what it might be to step into my power.