The other night in my dreams I was visited by a wild woman.
I was in the Cathedral at a grand refurbishing opening. Along the back walls were random quotes, words and names of holy people all carved into the stone and gilded. Along much to my amusement with one of the craftsmens favourite country singers.
After a redundant attempt to help set up, I sat on a pew against the back wall. A few chorus’s of triumphant classical music began - all very rousing stuff, then the Bishop begun an oration, a great thanks to all who had been a part the refurbishment.
After a redundant attempt to help set up, I sat on a pew against the back wall. A few chorus’s of triumphant classical music began - all very rousing stuff, then the Bishop begun an oration, a great thanks to all who had been a part the refurbishment.
Suddenly from the glass doors at the side of me there came a great booming, the place shook and out of the corner of my eye I saw a wild woman. I was aware of not wanting to look directly in her eyes and a sense of conflict where as a Christian it was my place to welcome her in whilst at the same time her feralness, her fierceness made me hold myself still least I be … well I’m not sure what.
As the whole place froze she slammed her fists against the glass shaking the Cathedral and screamed at us all to “Still your heads” “Your minds are too busy” “Stop screaming in your heads”
And then I woke up.
As the whole place froze she slammed her fists against the glass shaking the Cathedral and screamed at us all to “Still your heads” “Your minds are too busy” “Stop screaming in your heads”
And then I woke up.
It may not sound much to anyone but me, but I woke with that profound sense that I had to listen to this one, that this dream was important.
If I go along with the thinking that each person in a dream is an aspect of ourselves then there is an instinctual, the intuative femanine part of me that is demanding that I stop the performance, that I attend to the madness, stress and business in my head. That somewhere she can hear me screaming when I can not. That in the pomp and circumstance I risk loosing something essential. Her call to me so loud that the very dust is shaken from the stones of this refurbished Cathedral.
If I go along with the thinking that each person in a dream is an aspect of ourselves then there is an instinctual, the intuative femanine part of me that is demanding that I stop the performance, that I attend to the madness, stress and business in my head. That somewhere she can hear me screaming when I can not. That in the pomp and circumstance I risk loosing something essential. Her call to me so loud that the very dust is shaken from the stones of this refurbished Cathedral.
This may sound crass afterall we are always for intereted in our dreams than anothers but if anyone has any insights I would be interested.
