Dreaming is not only about the night. It
is also about awakening, or being awakened, to realities other than
ordinary life. It is not enough to get the meaning of a dream.
Often, very practical, priceless gifts open to us when we bring the
energy and messages of our dreams into waking life. One of the best
ways to honor the source of our dreams is via theatre – telling the
dream to trusted partners, then re-enacting the dream according to
each individual’s inventiveness. The dreamer’s job is to observe,
listen, and receive the deep, rich gifts that open before us.
Surprisingly, this type of theatre offers insights far beyond bland
interpretations — and opens a world beyond our ordinary perceptions.
Ideas, suggestions, and realizations arrive alive and well in our
body like a glass of fresh squeezed grapefruit juice, often
inspiring purposeful action in our ordinary life.
One very early morning when I awoke and
couldn’t get back to sleep, I opened Conscious Dreaming by Robert
Moss, and began reading his account of conscious dreaming, which
came through most vividly. It also brought to mind an image that
Moss refers to in many of his books: that of an Iroquois medicine
man who said, "The distance between the worlds of outer life and
dreaming life is less than the edge of a maple leaf." This image
had never come alive for me, but suddenly it did! This day the image
brought my biggest conscious dreaming experience.
I am not a born dreamer. Occasionally I
will remember the better part of dream “movie”. But most of the time
I only remember that I was dreaming, or recall a “hopeless” fragment
of my dream. (Despite our apparent inability to remember dreams,
laboratory research asserts that we have many dreams per evening.)
Edgar Allen Poe, who also remembered very few of his dreams, said
that he often woke with the energy and rhythms of the dream. It is
the energy of the dream, after all, that is its essence. Honor that
energy and allow it to act through you, and you will have captured
the purpose of your dream for waking life!
I have experienced conscious dreaming
only occasionally and very briefly. Conscious dreaming is to be
aware that one is dreaming — that is, dreaming while awake, or
becoming aware of that dreaming from sleep. For me, the experience
of dreaming consciously is a feeling of sheer awe, a bit of ecstasy.
It is a direct experience that isn’t available in ordinary waking
life, except in rare instances, such as in lovemaking or watching
the birth of a child.
I recently had a small dream that
turned out to be amazingly rewarding because I did as I was told:
direct a dream theatre.
I was on the porch of an older house
that was similar to my grandmother’s home. The railing was white,
the steps were painted grey. There was a large shady maple tree, and
the same green grass and flower beds of her backyard. My mother, my
daughter Anne, and I were sorting and organizing a variety of
kitchen and garden hand-tools – placing them on an unusual, yet very
simple, three-tiered, European-styled overhead rack, that I could
imagine over a kitchen stove or island — but not in my grandmother’s
house. It was a very modern rack. There were perhaps a dozen tools
including a three pronged hand rake, a small hand shovel, a manual
can-opener, and others. The rack did not have hooks or shelves.
Instead, the shiny wide metal strips of the frame featured
‘cut-outs’ in which you could place a tool. Because of this, it was
a bit tricky getting the tools to hang.
My mother and I were directing Anne how
and where to hang tools as much as we were doing our own part. When
my mother stepped away for a moment, I sensed that Anne felt caught
in the middle of our tension. She was quietly and patiently
attempting to follow our conflicting, contradictory instructions. My
mother’s direction was subtle, and mine was direct and open. When
she had done what one of us asked, the other often had her change
it.
I woke from the dream with my heartbeat
and pulse elevated.
I selected actors and actresses from
the circle of dreamers (a group of like-minded dream workers) for my
theatre. A young woman played the part of Anne. Two actors played
the rack, one played me, and several actresses and actors became
moving and talking garden-kitchen tools. One man enthusiastically
and resolutely jumped in as a hammer (even though I hadn’t mentioned
a hammer).
As the scene played out, the hammer
walked around with his arm raised, repeating “I want to hit
someone.” After enduring with patience, “Anne” stormed off the porch
shouting, “Do it yourself , @#$%!”
The vivid message of this dream
theater, well-captured by the cast, revealed the depth of
frustration my daughter experienced by being caught in the middle of
ever-present under-the-surface family tension that was not hers. I
realized that the mother could more easily be Anne’s mother, my
ex-wife. While the energy of the dream was probably obvious to
others, even I had noted it, casually, in preliminary remarks of the
dream. But, critically and unmistakably, the re-enactment and
amplification brought home by the players broke through an invisible
barrier that I had erected somewhere in my mind or body.
Anne and I always have had an excellent
relationship created by our intentions and extended efforts through
the years, but a wall came up in times of distress that we had never
been able to step through. One of the signs of this was that Anne
was always very reserved in expressing affection in times of
distress, even after the storm had passed.
I went home and immediately told Anne
of the dream, the theatre and her dream character storming out of
the dream. She laughed with a cheerful “Da, Dad. I’m glad you
finally got it.” After this dream healing, Anne began welcoming me
in her life with a depth and fullness that still touches me deeply.
It had been something I had longed for for years. Now she trusts me
completely, and I trust that she will be alright if I am not there
always with her. I observe our new relationship most in her added
freedom to come to me in distress and to articulate well. She no
longer becomes enraged, and I no longer meddle.
This dream theatre also brought to my
attention the generational “stressing” patterns that can so easily
become part of the background wallpaper in families, which often
have profound effects on children that remain for a lifetime if not
recognized and peeled away.
Having a dream gathering or circle is a
wonderful opportunity for dream theatre. If we have even one dream
partner who we trust to help bring back rich rewards from our
dreaming, it is a joyous circumstance.
Raymond
Veenkant teaches and practices methods and skills for people who
wish to be their own healer and author of their own life. Contact:
907.892.1507 or
www.CreatingCreating.com
