The scientific world tells us that we constantly dream while asleep. Many of us, wake in the morning, never remembering any of it. Some of us, are tormented by night terrors, and some of us have the regular disturbing dream.
There are different interpretations of what dreams are. I listen to it all and hold to my thinking of the subconscious mind and the conscious mind trying to make sense of the day, or an experience during the day – while the mind cannot influence it.
The mind and the heart not speaking the same language, it is that simple for me.
In my “younger days” I had a dream that stuck with me in all my years, sometimes I take the memory of it out and look at the emotional distress it created. I know it was a warning of some sorts, but today we have a page from my book – enjoy.
I slowly walk up to the Victorian house, admiring the beauty of the place, and enter the magnificent carved doors. Inside I stand on the black and white tiles, turning to see each detail of the high ceiling, the woodwork the love placed into every corner of this house.
Not mine, but I feel safe and brave enough to venture further.
My mind tells me that I am in the old, “ballroom”, I see the marble floors, the high fire place and the picture painted of a woman with her face slightly concealed.
As the mind plays it wicked tricks with me, the painting seems to be alive. The woman moving, and with that my full attention is handed to the mysteriousness of the moving painting and the woman that hides herself so well.
I am alone in this room, I am alone in this house. The silence is deafening. I am young, looking down at myself I see the attire of the century, past life I think, or maybe the mind that travelled to a place of beauty, maybe my safe space.
A twirl here and there, slow movements to increase the subtle rustle of layers of fabric that drape around me like a lover’s embrace.
Standing below the fire place, I move with the painting, trying with desperation to see the face of the beautiful woman.
Alive she is and needing to see her identity – I must. I reached the end of the fireplace, standing holding onto the corner, cold under my hand, there is no room for another step.
The woman turns, but before I can take in the radiance of her face, the floor starts giving way. The wall paper curling up and down the same time. The distinct smell of rot, decay, the cold sets in. It feels as if in the time bubble of me trying to see her face the clouds of darkness have rolled in.
Now I am scared… as the floor is falling. I can see the nothingness underneath it, and it is reaching me fast. There is no way out of the room. I am stuck in front of the fire place, I cannot reach the entrance, the woman speaks, but I cannot hear her voice, the painting has lost all the beauty, bubbled up in areas, the picture distorted…
I know I must run, I know I must get out, but my legs do not move, my heart is racing, and I cannot breathe.
I fall – to the deepest darkness I fall.
Obviously as it is with dreams like these we bolt awake, I was no different. This dream haunted me for years. A regular visit from the lady in the picture, with the same end. The same dream – you think I have lost the plot completely – but let me assure you, the mind is powerful. Never once had there been any part different from the previous “visit”.
And then one day, with a call, my foundation fell. My granny died – as many that know me, I refer to her as my mom, even my stepdad knows that much.
My entire world came to a halt. My wish was to die too. I stopped eating. I had the “mother person” placing actual money on the table to have me eat. My weight dropped to a dangerous 43kg, and just btw, I am 1.78cm – tall 😊
This trauma, this dream stayed for many years. Guarding my heart like the hounds guard the gates of Hell. I never wanted to feel this kind of pain ever again.
With some therapy, and some hard work later in my life, I have gained some form of “control” over the constant battle of the heart and the mind, between all else that have kept me busy, I have learned that at times dreams are warnings, sometimes there are profound lessons, and other times, it simply is the mind trying to talk to the heart while logic and reason are resting…
Other times, as some clients on the journey of healing has realized, it brings out the things your subconscious thought best to hide from you.
I have never returned to this dream after the death of my gran. Never walked through the doors and looked at the beautiful house, nor stood underneath the fire place trying to see her face… and it has been years.
The battle between heart and mind is older that time, or well started with us humans I suppose – have you thought about what lies between the two power points in the body?
That’s right, the voice. When the heart and mind is in battle the voice is either silenced or amplified, coated with the “wrong” things…
Blessed reasoning day to those little tormenting dreams, may you find the answers and speak the reason, even if you only whisper them to yourself.