Olaus Magnus, (1544 and after). State Library of New South Wales .
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: Two things — Just in case you missed it, I took over the Ann Friedman Weekly last week and interpreted for fellow fellow Celia Mattison. It was a good time. Second thing, prepare for Special Guest Dreams… that’s all I’ll say. Okay. Here we go.
dear howdy,
a few years ago i started dreaming of orcas.
at first, my view of them was always from the air. i would watch pods swimming in clear waters, powerful yet serene.
as i consciously began to realize i was dreaming of orcas, my perspective shifted. i was now either in boats or on a pier watching them swim by. oftentimes in intense storms, where they would appear breaking through choppy waters.
i started to yearn to understand. why orcas? i had no prior connection to them. i started to notice everything orca related in my waking hours. coolers. a towing company. 90s orca phones.
the dreams continued. the perspective changed yet again.
i had become desperate to be with the orcas. i would see them in the distance and feverishly try to get closer. to slip into the water alongside them. they were always just out of reach.
the dreams slowly stopped happening. i would think of them constantly. where did they go? what was i missing?
one night, i saw a pod swimming in a bay. i ran to the shoreline, only to see them swimming away. i entered the water, defeated. suddenly a 6-foot tall angel fish was circling around me. i shut my eyes thinking i had lost my mind, only to open them to find a man in front of me.
he asked me to sit with him in the water, to share my grief, and i sobbed the story of my dreams and that the orcas were leaving me before i could understand why they had ever come in the first place.
he held my hands, told me the answer was within me, then asked me to close my eyes. as i did, he began moving my hands under the water in long dancing motions and told me to feel the orca spirit. it was as though i was feeling the movement of orcas through the water. enraptured, the sensation came over me and i felt at one.
i woke up, never to dream of them again.
thank you,
natalie
Dear Natalie,
Thank you for the gift of your dream. And thank you for this chance to interpret in a different way. The longer we travel together in Dreamland, the more we will learn about dreams in general and the infinite forms and meanings they can take, and this is one such time.
I have nothing to offer you for a right-now understanding of this dream or the orcas, but I can shed some light on what happened to you and what it all might mean later on. Sometimes that’s the way it goes on the journey, but I am no less present for it. So, into your dream we go: You start out floating above the sea, above the orcas, a clear and present sign that you are not ready to be actively involved in the dream. The ocean, representing here the deepest reaches of your soul, the unconscious, and emotions, is clear and peaceful. You, like the orcas, are serene.
Then, once you become conscious of the dream, things become intense. You are more ready now, it seems, to be actively involved in the dream. There are intense storms, and choppy waters, and the orcas, who I believe are signaling a deep undertaking (perhaps spiritual) or journey, are still making it through. Ask yourself — what was unmanifested in your life in that time? Are things different now?
There is another lesson here. The orcas, or these physical manifestations, matter less than the signs and symbols behind them. Sometimes symbols are hyperspecific, sometimes they are vague, sometimes they mean one thing and one thing only, and other times they are a broad, standing oak, a thousand meanings can be taken from within. In your case, Seeker, these symbols are wide and deep, like the ocean you found them in. I cannot tell you why orcas, or even that the orcas being orcas instead of, say, blue whales, is important, only that you found each other, and instead of turning away, you listened.
The man who is the angelfish, the man whose origins are, like the orcas, murky, gives you a space to grieve, to wonder. You stop feeling desperate and instead just allow yourself to feel. This, too, is a gift. Maybe even a lesson.
You accomplished what you needed to, if only in Dreamland. If the orcas come back to you—and who is to say they won’t—don’t try to make them stay. Question yourself, your motives, and your desires, and see what comes up. Take what they are offering you, and then let them go. Nothing ever really leaves, Natalie. Not really.
I hope this helped. I’m sending you a dream of a different kind of sea creature, one with no name, a thousand years old; let me know if you get it.
See you on the other side,
Sad Boy Howdy
Fancy a trip to Dreamland, pardner? Send your best to sadboyhowdy@gmail.com!