Journal: Dreams, shadows, nightmares

In my dreams, red stallions have fallen in love with me and I have run with them on four hooves through the wind. In my dreams I have flown with witches trailing rainbow silks behind us…I have fought and loved and cradled a goose name Walter in my arms. My dreams have been pure color, pure joy in movement and freedom and love. And yet, on the other side of this beauty is their brutal violence, the stories they have to tell about human cruelty and the letting of blood. Sometimes, I watch helpless as a great betrayal is played out before my eyes, a fence between me and the victim. Sometimes I am deep in the fray…either the victim or the monster.
Last night, a violent dream woke me at midnight and I couldn’t go back to sleep and today I find myself wondering, is there something wrong with me, to have such dreams? to envision such brutality while I sleep? In this dream, I watched from a distance as a half man,half beast creature skinned a screaming woman’s face off from the inside of her…by reaching through her head with his knives. They were on top of a hill…I watched in horror from below, a fair distance away. This is by no means, the worst of my nightmares. This one was rather simple in its terror and brutality.
I have read that nightmares are to be celebrated because they are the first step towards awareness and healing and I have read that dreams like this surface because we haven’t embraced our own Shadow selves (Jung), but I’ve been having them all my life, right along with the good ones. For a few years, I did not dream at all…or rather I didn’t remember my dreams and that was from an intentional closing off to them. but this past year I have opened up to them again…it has taken a whole year for my dreams to come back and while most of them are mundane, a few stand out in their brilliance.
I can make no sense of them and they exhaust me.

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