Kumataro Ito’s Illustrations of Nudibranchs from the USS Albatross’ Philippine Expedition (ca. 1908)
Welcome to Dream Interpretation for Dummies, where Dear Abby meets Native Americana. Come to the campfire, peer into the yawning grave, and take a dive into the collective subconscious… or maybe just explore some weird clown imagery. We’ll wait for you here.
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Another Howdy Note: SPECIAL GUEST DREAM ALERT! This week we cross over with Laura Sullivan Cassidy — mind, heart, and spirit behind Griever’s Ball and dear friend of the newsletter! Be sure to check out our collaboration!
Dear Howdy,
In this dream I’m with my mom in an open air beach cabana of sorts; a room formed via two rows of similar cabanas meeting at an upside down V; we were at/in the upside down V cabana at a point with beaches on both sides of us and straight ahead. Everywhere you look there are lots of people and tons, tons of driftwood and logs floating in the water nearest the shore.
In our room there was a bed in the corner. My mom was lying on the side of the bed by the wall. Thinking of it now she was pretty inert. Outside there was a plastic jug of water (like a gallon of milk style jug) and two full cups plus one empty cup. I was curious about that & vaguely thirsty but didn’t know for sure what the deal was. I was on my side of the bed, maybe with a sleeping bag on the bed too? Even though there was a bedspread and even though it was a sunny, beach day? At some point I got off the bed and there was a bunch of dirt like I had had dirty shoes on there and was trying to take off or tidy up the dirt clumps without being seen. A friend of mine came by outside and talked to me but I don’t really remember what. But when she left it seemed like I was telling my mom something about her dog. At a certain point my mom got up and went out into the water on the right side of our cabana— out past a lot of driftwood or logs floating in the shallow water—with her clothes on. I don’t remember if we talked about it. She just laid back in the water and I watched her thinking it was strange but thinking I should let her do what she wants to do. But somehow I took my eyes off her or did something else and I noticed she was on the left side now, out past the people and floating logs but getting more faint or maybe sinking.
I began calling “mom, mom!” But my voice wasn’t strong. A man on the beach said he’d help and asked her name then yelled “Lois!” but we never found her again.
At some point I had taken some of the water that had been near our room and was drinking it during all of this — it tasted very strange. Not carbonated per se but something like that. I realized that I couldn’t recall what cup I had used — the empty one or one of the full ones? It seemed like something I wanted to figure out but didn’t have the wherewithal. My biggest feeling was something like guilt or shame… that I would be “in trouble” for letting this happen; that I’d have to explain but I had no idea what had really transpired or why.
With friendship,
Laura Sullivan Cassidy
Dear Laura,
Thank you for the gift of your dream. This week has been one that I can’t quite put my finger on, emotionally. I’ve done some of my favorite things – written widely, taken scalding hot baths, gone to the movie theater with the reclining seats, talked to friends old and new, expounded on dreams, petted some cats, tried a new lipstick. But, I’ve also been in a cycle of panic, of deep depression. It is no secret I have, ahem, been going through it. Though, and I am glad to say it, I can see the light beaming through the clouds – some chapter is closing, quietly, while a new path opens. Even for mystics, even for ghosts – for all of us, truly – life comes in waves. Such is our shared experience.
Alright, alright, I’ll take a seat from the pulpit. Now, on a gentle tide, into your dream we go: The image of the cabanas is a strong one. Scenery is important here. You are supposed to be relaxed here, things are supposed to feel right. Though you may not be aware you are on vacation, you are in a prototypical vacation spot. You are surrounded here by water – which, in most dreams, signifies time and emotion, sometimes separate and sometimes together. In this case, it is both, while the driftwood signifies a rising from the depths, a kind of growth in itself. There is so much wood around and in that, so much growth to be had.
How exhausting! And you’re supposed to be resting – you’re on vacation for goodness’ sake! No wonder your mother, representing here another version of yourself, is lying motionless. Again, we see the image of water, of emotion, of feeling, represented by the jug. But you do not drink, because you can not know for sure. You are wary to feel all that you could. The three cups, two full and one empty, symbolize three paths that your life can take from here. Two are known to you and one, we see, is unknown. Let’s pause for a moment and say that many of the details that you provided, which were lush and interesting for me to slip into, do not so much need to be interpreted on their own (though I will say the dirt clumps are a true representation of shame). They may contain their own smaller messages of course, but our purpose today is to follow your mother/you, who now, as we see, is sinking into the waters of emotion and time. Being overwhelmed by them, in a way.
We are not our parents, of course, but we are… of them. Instead of seeing a twin, another self, you see her, and all the complicated tethers that come with it. You are, in a way, cautious. You worry that one day your self-reflection will go too deep to come out of, that you will be lost to your own mind and feelings. I understand this. I empathize with it. We are miners, collectors of wisdom. Sometimes, though we see others clearly, it is hard to gain that clarity for ourselves.
The man that helps you call – because your voice is not strong enough – is a direct message to you. You are allowed to rely on your own insight, your own knowledge. It is always good to build, of course, from others, but you have to value what you give the world, too. It is magic.
Drinking from the wrong cup – what an image! I won’t make direct ties to the Bible, but it does remind me of an unholy cup, one that we wish could be taken from us. You knew, perhaps, that the grail was poisoned, but you drank it just the same… and don’t we all. Anyway, anyway. My advice here, as always, is to wring shame out like a dishrag. Look into what bothered you most about the dream, what made you feel most guilty, and let it go. Release yourself from it. Say, out loud – I refuse to take truth from shame and guilt. I refuse. Your subconscious, your guides, if you will, are telling you this. I am telling you this. You can trust it.
I hope this helped. I’m sending you a dream of a calmer sea, no driftwood in sight. It is every color of the sky. It is whispering something sweet. Can you hear it? Let me know if you do.
See you on the other side,
Howdy
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I hear it, Autumn, and it's such a gift. Thank you for being the giver you are.