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.
Howdy Note: This dream has been very lightly edited. Everything you are about to read has already happened, is happening, will happen…
Another Howdy Note: THIS IS A WEIRD ONE, BUT IT FEELS RIGHT FOR THE OCCASION! Happy holiday if you celebrate (however nebulously) — sending you all much warmth and love and light. Thanks for indulging me! We’re back to our regularly scheduled programming next time.
Dear Howdy,
I had a dream. I mean, I’m a dreamer. We’re a dreamer. It feels strange to be writing to myself, but this year has warranted it, I think. A little self-indulgence. A little experimentation. Did we ever think we’d get here? No. The sadness we feel, have always felt, at one time felt like a bane. But now it feels Divine. It’s always there, but it gives us a keen eye, a divinatory streak. And we like that.
Anyway, anyway. I had a dream. I dreamt of the stag again. He was big and his antlers were holding up the sky. I thought I smelled something sharp and sweet, like a hot toddy, like something else? The stag was looking at me and his great mouth opened and I flinched, got down on my hands and knees, cowering. I felt his warm breath against the back of my neck and shuddered in my fear. He called me ———— and who but us and Teacher know that name? Tell me what it means. Tell me what’s real.
And, for the record, most nights this week, I dreamt of being stuck in high school and Dad and maple almond granola. Of heavy blankets and a stack of books and our very own friend, long gone, but still there if we squint.
Yours (ha) even after the creek rises,
Autumn
Dear Autumn,
Thank you for the gift of your (our? my?) dream. I’m writing this with my headphones on while I force good friend/company Amber to watch River Monsters. The holidays are all difficult, in their own ways, but I feel distinctly surrounded by warmth, by something tenuously good. I don’t think it’s the holiday, not at all, and not surprising. I think it’s something else. My dishes are done and the space heaters are on and there is a Pumpkin Cream Cookie candle going.
So, holding on to that, into your dream we go: What a year it has been! What a year it is going to be! You have consistent readers! Amazing ones! Publications! Opportunities! It’s always been difficult for you, perhaps because you are a child on either side of the line, to stay rooted in this world. The other one calls to you, it wants you back. Despite this, all of this has been good for you. Very good. It’s given you a tether, one you didn’t have before.
The stag, perhaps, is a reflection of that dual nature, of that pulling towards one side. He is rooted, firmly, in the Other Place, but he visits occasionally, for as long as you can remember. He also reminds you of your great-grandmother, of her family that would sit cream out for the Fair Folk, who had their own traditions separate from the ones you would learn later in life (but that were already in you in ways you could not begin to fathom).
Still, he is terrifying. Massive. Elegant, in a way, and very beautiful. He knows you, your truest name, the depths of you that you have shown to none, and in that he has a great power. You shake with it, with the fear of being found out, but no blow comes. This is what you should remember. This is what you should hold on to. You are not your mistakes. You are not your most painful parts. You have so much more to give than you ever thought you did, Autumn. Don’t you know that? Don’t you?
The stag will come back, he always does. He always will. But, maybe next time, you can raise your face and meet his gaze. Your eyes will be the same color, so darkly brown they are almost black, and you will see something there, but I cannot tell you what. We’re not there yet.
I hope this helped. I’m sending you a dream of our childhood, I think. Of the Buffalo River and the canoe. The water feels like nothing you’ve ever felt. Everyone is happy, laughing, and the sun is shining, shining. When the rains come, you will watch the fish jump, and the fire will sizzle but not go out. Let me know if you get it.
See you on the other side,
Howdy
P.S from a Dreamer! “i had the dream again last night, which means i’ve been having the same dream for over a year. before it filled me with a feeling of dread or anxiety when i woke up, but now i feel much more at peace with it and with my mind. i’m not having the dream so often now, and last night in the dream instead of having thousands and thousands of jewelry boxes to look though, i was at the end of the line, i had a little bit more to go, but the end was in sight. i don’t think i would have made it here without your dream interpretation and i’m incredibly grateful to you.” — drowning in dreamy neckware
Fancy a trip to Dreamland, pardner? Send your best to sadboyhowdy@gmail.com!