It’s worth noting that it is ultimately less important to have absorbed all that has been touched upon in our previous entries, which sketched out the arc of an awakening process, than to come away with a basic sense of what is possible through the process of dream work. Our dreams can help guide us, and it’s not even critical that the dream be completely or correctly understood, but the exploration itself can open one up to more information, can reconnect one to the world of symbolism that is natural to our deeper (higher) processes, and so the exercise of examining one’s dreams is in itself an acknowledgement and signal to the higher self that this is an area of interest, and when that signal begins to be sent on a regular basis, say by writing down one’s dreams as best as one can upon waking, the higher self will recognize that signal and respond, with guidance, insight, and sometimes, knowings.
Here is an example of how the flow of a dream can be a reflection of a person’s inner state, and fundamentally more important than the details of the scenes themselves.
Jeane: I think it was at 4 a.m. I remember the dream as being active. I just didn’t sleep well, and I didn’t like the mood of the dream. In it, I was in the city. It was in a cocktail bar, and there were some men with suits who had an important job at some firm. It felt as though they became men from where I actually work, and perhaps one or two women. They come over to let me know about a party and tell me it will be formal dress. I’m relieved because that means I won’t have to go – I’m not dressed properly.
Next two little girls walk across the room and there’s a purse near them. At some point or other I notice that my purse has been emptied and there’s nothing left in it except tissues. I have the sense that someone has taken out jewelry or something, and it seems like I reprimand the little girls.
Next I’m out on a street or at a party and I run into a female co-worker and then a male friend from Lebanon, and he’s upset that I’m walking with my co-worker. Then I’m in a bar with his mother and a few of his relatives who are visiting the country, and it seems as though he wants me to get something and I sense a certain pressure in him because of their visit. I have an interaction with him where I observe that I’m feeling kind of vulnerable; there’s something that I’m struggling with there, and then I just suddenly walk off on my own. I remember that the dream left me feeling really unsettled.
John: I view the entire sequence of that dream as having one central theme running through it, and it’s called connectedness. When you aren’t catching a particular flow in life, there are gaps in dreams where the images jump around. It imparts the feeling that you’re missing something, or that you’re not keeping up. You just don’t have all the information that you need to string it together with any continuity, and everywhere you look there’s a gap where you can’t quite bring something across, or you can’t quite feel comfortable with where you are, or the environment you’re relating to isn’t quite comfortable. So you’re not fully able to absorb what needs to be absorbed in order to create a flow and have a sense of ease in it.
So as you bounce from scene to scene you keep struggling against that awkwardness and try to resolve it, try to pull it together into its cadence, into its flow. You are carrying inside yourself a tone or mood that you can’t shake, and you can sense that it’s not quite balanced. So you bounce around and aren’t able to find it. It comes from harboring inside yourself a tone of uneasiness.
The mind focuses upon what’s incomplete in each scene, it struggles to reach a resolution. At the same time, the intensity of your focus vibrationally gets narrower and narrower. By trying to figure out the missing pieces, it shows an attempt to find a more fluid inner balance. As each scene takes you further away from the center, you feel the energetic struggle to get back into balance. And that struggle can point to a larger issue that is at play in you.