Saturday, June 26, 2010

A dream I had

This morning I woke up sobbing. I’d dreamt that a dark line of blood had begun to collect under the skin of two of the fingers on my right hand. At first, it was just a kind of outline of the veins. But it started to spread – and deepen.

The blood was bright purple, the color of concord grape juice - and the pressure had built up enough that the blood had burst a small hole in the skin and was trickling out – this hurt a lot but relieved the pressure enough that I was able to use my fingers again. But the hole sealed up and the blood began to collect there again.

It’s only two fingers, I told myself. It will sort itself out. As the condition worsened, it also spread – and now you could see the blood pooling under the skin of my palm – like a deep pool that I could look into and see things.

It will stop, I reassured myself. But when I got dizzy. I told my sisters, who’d miraculously appeared in the dream, “I have to go to the hospital.” Of course you do, they nodded, exchanging a glance that said. CLEARLY SHE DOES! But being kind and calm with me – the way people are with a crazy but ill person.

Beth led me toward a bench and told me to sit down. Jenny ran for our mother – who, as it turned out, was unable to help, having just had open-heart surgery. Oh, that’s right, we realized together. Right now, we are helping her.

Beth called my husband who poofed into the scene with us.

"Can you put some pressure on it?” he asked.

“She has to go to the hospital,” Beth insisted.
“I can see that,” my husband said as he ran away, calling over his shoulder. “I will do what I can.” Halfway up the block, he dissolved.

Beth led me to the hospital, which, as it turned out, was right next door. Dreams can be so convenient – or, as it turned out, inconvenient.

The nurse behind the reception counter (who looked suspiciously like the woman at the DMV where my daughter and I went to renew her learner’s permit last week) nodded when I showed her my hand. “That does look serious,” she said. “Take a seat.”

There were already a lot of people waiting in the long row of blue plastic chairs. The chairs were all connected to each other so you couldn’t drag your chair over to a corner if you needed a little privacy (which I did, which is why I noticed this.)

The thing is: I really didn't want anyone to see the mess I was making -

... or could make at any moment if the blood, which was really building up again, decided to burst through.

And the chairs had those stupid metal armrests that were never intended to support soft, fleshy human arms; but were designed to keep people from spreading out across more than one chair and sleeping. So you had to just sit in these rows with your feet splayed out in front of you.

You know, like in a real hospital.

For the next few hours – or days (You know how dreams (and hospitals) can be) doctors came flapping through doors at one end of the room and exiting out through flapping doors at the opposite end. They looked very busy in their white coats and blue paper surgical caps. But no one looked at me. No one was looking at any of us patients. It was weird.

Maybe I’ll just leave, I thought.

I stood up. I got dizzy. I sat down. The dizziness reminded me of the blood. I looked down. Uh-oh. It was going to spring a leak at any moment.

And I really didn't want to make a mess

I walked to the exit doors. I was having trouble thinking. But I’m still standing, I reasoned (not a good thing to do when you are having trouble thinking) and so pushed open the exit doors and …

“Wait a minute!” a young doctor in blue scrubs grabbed my hand and looked at it. “You’re not going anywhere, Missy.” Walking me backwards, I let him push me back to the blue chairs; then, he left.

ANd my hand started to bleed.

I showed the receptionist. (Funny how there was no line but we were waiting so long.) Anyway, she said, Wow, that really is worse and pushed a clipboard toward me. “Here,” she said. “Fill this out honey.”

I pushed the form back toward her. “The thing is,” I said. “I don’t have health insurance this month.” (I have learned to say it that way. Makes me sound, at least I think so, less indigent. More, you know, respectable. Like a real person.)

“You don’t have health insurance,” she whispered, backing away from me.

“It’s just recently…” I stammered. “My husband lost his job…”

“What are you doing here?” she spit.

“If I could just talk with the doctor,” I said, and with everyone looking at me because they could hear the blood in my whole body pulsing like a drum.

(Or maybe they were looking at me because, you know, I don’t LOOK like the kind of person who doesn’t have health insurance. I look so normal, so successful. I have these nice clothes and a steady freelance job that pays pretty well (though not well enough to pay for health insurance, of course. Not when I’ve got two kids in college and a self-employed husband whose home architecture practice was ABSOLUTELY DEAD for about a year after the housing and financial meltdown.)(And all of that passed through my mind in a glimmer – in that way that thoughts can do that. Like this great download of excuses mixed with shame mixed with grief mixed with no idea what to do or to say anymore…)

“WE CAN’T TOUCH YOU!” The nurse was shrieking at me now.

“Wait!” I pleaded. “Just tell me where you send people who don’t have health insurance.”

“We don’t send them anywhere!” She said. “That’s not our responsibility.” She backed into a group of nurses and other receptionists, and raising her arm, she pointed at me, saying, “Get this woman out of here.”

I ran. Through the swinging doors, clutching my hand: I have to remain calm. I just have to get home. I have to keep walking. I can’t fall down.

Of course, with all of that stress, my blood pressure was WAY up and the purple stains on my palm began to leak and then to spurt. I took off my shirt – the white button down I’d just purchased at the thrift store that I was going to wear on stage when I became a famous author. I

I will never get this stain out, I sighed and my heart broke. No, I mean, it actually broke - splitting neatly in half like a coconut.

And everyone was staring at me. One woman called out, "Honey, you should go to the hospital, you’re bleeding!".

I didn’t answer her. I just kept running. Until…

From out of nowhere, a tall and beautiful black man materialized, moving quickly from behind and caught me around the waist. Pulling me backwards against his chest in a warm, firm hug he whispered, I’ve got you,

His voice was musical and cool, like water - and cleansing. I’ve got you, he repeated, catching each half of my heart in one of his hands and just letting them rest there.

Then, another man, stepped behind that man and wrapped his arms around us both.

“Yo tengo…” he said,

... and I understood him perfectly though I don’t speak Spanish, even when I’m awake. But I thought it meant, “I’ve got you.” And he held me too. They held me together.

And I sobbed. I just leaned back in their arms and let the tears come and let the blood pulse through my arms and out of the torn seams in my fingers until I was completely covered in purple blood. And there was no one there but me - and these two gentle men, holding me.

” You are the first person to hold me since this whole thing began," I wept.

And then I woke up – and I sobbed some more.


I invite you to help me understand this dream. A few notes to consider when taking this dream apart, should you wish to do so:

1) Think symbolically
2) Think archetypally
3) In this kind of dream, the structure of the story also matters.
4) Think about my actual life and my spiritual life
5) This kind of dream is not a prophecy

What does purple blood symbolize?
What mess might I be trying to conceal?
What is the white shirt?
What about the blue chairs?

Who are the two black men?
Who was the nurse? (symbolically)
Who was the doctor who pressed me back into the chair? (symbolically)

Let's play!

For my subscribers: If you have any questions or comments on this one, I'd love it if (instead of emailing me) you'd click through to the blog and post them where everyone can read along, in the comments section following the post.


Elle's Life On Purpose said...

1) Think symbolically
Blood = your energy, life force. You are wasting alot of energy, something is draining you, something perhaps connected to your hands. You are a writer, no? Your work is draining you or you are letting it. Or you are bleeding financially. It sounds like that is a real possibility given what you described with health insurance.

Hands = Your ability to handle a situation. Do you need help? How are you expressing yourself. Your hands are key to your life, work, expression. Are you feeling incapable of expressing yourself?

Black man = something mysterious or unknown is propping you up, keeping you intact.

Spanish foreign stranger = an aspect of your own personality that you do not recognize as your own. You may be dealing with foreign territory in your waking life. Are you in a new situation in your life that makes you feel lost as to what to do?

White shirt = a new beginning, purity, innocence. do you feel you have lost your innocence? You were terrified of losing it, making a mess and then when you surrendered in the arms of mystery, it seemed to matter less.

Medical people = doctors represent time for healing. The doctor was the part of you that knows what is good for you. Are you in an unhealthy relationship with your work? Are you resentful of the burden on your shoulders? The nurse obviously represents the shame you feel about not having enough to pay for insurance. The doctors advice is important to listen's your own advice to yourself.

the blue chairs = symbolizes where you sit in you feel you sit in a waiting room? Waiting for something to happen? Waiting for others? Watching emergencies and catastrophies? Maybe a bit of the Gulf oil/war/economic collapse fears expressing themselves there? Blue is often associated with depression. You may feel depressed about where you find yourself.

I really enjoyed your writing. You will be published. Just listen to those mysterious forces holding you up right now. They are taking good care of you.

Lisa Merrai (vivalabonbon)

Amy Oscar said...

Yes, yes! Beautiful. Thank you. This is what I see, too. And purple is the color of the angels. I write about angels. Tell me more. Does anyone have questions?

Rebecca Elia said...

Blood = Family...Purple makes it royal family...the most royal of families :)

Was it your writing hand?'Cause you're connecting to your royal family & transmitting the info to us through your writing hand. (If so, then this part of the dream will probably disappear as long as you continue to write.)

LOVE the men holding you. We all need them, need to allow Him back. The Divine Masculine is waiting for us. We allow him when we allow the Divine Feminine in ourselves. As you've said, it's all LOVE.

I leave the rest to you, my dear. Only you know the answers--because it was your dream, afterall. :)

Lauri said...

Amy, if this dream was last night you should look to yesterday to help you pinpoint the meaning. What happened yesterday? What was on your mind? What did you talk about? What did you struggle with? What did you accomplish?

I wonder if the bleeding, that seemed to be more ready to burst than actually flow is connected to your finances. Like the blood, are you holding back tight on spending but feeling the pressure of a final bleed becoming imminent? It was your fingers, and you use them to type for a living. The pressure is now on you while hubby's business seems to be ata standstill.

And I believe that may be what the waiting room is all about. How long do we have to wait for this economic mess to turn around? Those in power that can heal the situation (symbolized by the doctors) sure do talk a big game and seem like they're busy fixing it but it doesn't seem to be working and it sure isn't helping you yet.

There are also a lot of references to the color blue. Whenever blue shows up in a dream it is most often connected to depression, "the blues." Have you been depressed lately?

You mention a lot that you don't want to make a mess and you hide your fingers, I think that is connected to your concern that you don't want your financial situation to turn into a big mess and you also don't want others to know of your struggles and worries. You want to come across as succesful and put together (you're not alone!)

You want to know about the purple blood. Typically, purple in dreams is the color of devotion. You are devoted to your work, your husband, your mother and at some point, this will drain you (hence the blood).

The two black men are your assertive male energy. The part of you that can "man up" and handle your business. They are being shown to you in the form of black men because people of another race in our dreams often represent what seems foreign to us. Right now, being assertive, rational, handling your business and taking everything in stride may seem to be a foreign concept to you but it is that very part of you that's "got you" and that will "hold you up" and see you through.

I think your dream is trying to comfort you and let you know you are stronger and "ballsier" than you may actually feel right now.

Why two men? The same reason your heart broke in "two." Oh, and your "two" fingers. There must be 2main issues right now that are really putting pressure on you that you need your two inner black men to handle for you.

Again, I believe the message is that you are stronger than you may feel you are right now but you've got to relaease that sadness and frustration, the pressure, get it out so that you can have the clarity to see your inner strength.

Let me know if any of this seems to fit for you.

A beautiful dream btw, as beautiful as your writings are!

Amy Oscar said...

Thanks, Rebecca. I hadn't thought about the Divine Masculine at all. That makes so much more sense out of it. I've had the experience of dancing with the male archetypes in recent months - Archangel Michael is always close; Jesus, and the masculine itself - as I step into authority over my own name (just launched a website) and domain.

Which gives me another clue about the royal blood.

Elle's Life On Purpose said...

@Laura! I used your book "Cracking the dream code" as my reference! I use it all the time for my own dreams and work! So nice to see you here. I love Amy's depiction of her dream and I love your analysis.


Amy Oscar said...

Lauri - A powerful, more psychological/practical take on this: Yes to all of it.

I will focus on two things you said:

First, what happened that day? This was the day when I really GOT it that I had Lyme Disease, a blood disorder that would require a blood test that I can not afford. So that makes a great deal of sense.

Taken archetypally, it's also the first day in the process of writing my book when I thought: I may not make it here. I may do what I always do and give up at the end. So I was definitely worrying about that.

On the question of two. I think the whole dream is about my two personas - my two hearts.

On the one hand, Im this practical person with a real job, real family, real life. On the other, I'm being called into service of the mystery - by the mystery itself. Making the choice to own that - to step into the light as a Priestess; as 'that angel lady' has not been easy for me.

This work chose me and now, I must choose it back.

Rebecca Elia said...

LOVE expressed through the Divine Masculine - Christ's love is the same as LOVE expressed through the Divine Feminine - The Madonna's love. The Feminine and Masculine are not the same, except in that they both express divine love. This IS our equality. This is our connection. We got confused about this...we thought women had to become men to be equal. We forgot that our equality is through Divine LOVE. (This is such an Amy-dream, isn't it?)

Lauri said...

@Elle, I gotta tell you, when I read your analysis I did wonder if you had my book. I thought, she either has it or she's damn good! Ha ha!!! Well I am so pleased you are putting it to good use. :-) Nice to see you on here as well.

@Amy, wow, I am in the same boat. I don't have lyme disease but I need a blood test too to find out why I can't seem to keep a pregnancy. Well good luck to you sister. I will keep you in my prayers.

Amy Oscar said...

Ah, Lauri. I have been on THAT boat myself. Blessings on that journey. You might reach out to Rebecca, who's in the same comments thread on that one.

As for my Lyme, I went ahead and began treatment w/o the blood test and it's 'proving' that I did have Lyme - as the symptoms flare up, a typical Lyme response to treatment.

Gloria Ives said...

It was certainly anxiety provoking to
me on a lot of counts- blood, what carries the oxygen to all of your organs, is leaving you.And it's purple...signifying the divine. That direct healthy live ginger line between you and the divine has been severed,but it always keeps repairing. The connection will always be there despite heAlth care. X

Amy Oscar said...

That's an interesting take on this, Gloria. Rest assured, my connection to the Divine has not been severed. The angels have shown me that that's not even possible.

But your comment raises a fascinating idea for me. The purple blood spilling all over me symbolizes, for me, being stained in a way that everyone can see, with the Divine. Not being able to hide it anymore.

I also think it's about not really NEEDING health care - and the idea, as one of my friends, who also is doing without medical insurance recently said: "Right now, I am divinely held."

Having to stand there, with people pointing and staring - with authority figures pushing me back into the blue plastic chairs, which for me symbolize being stuck in the system - not, in fact, being special - and yes, that gives me the blues all right!

And also, that doctor, for me, symbolized the way that people are always trying to make each other behave, be normal - to stop the blood flow, to hand over our authority over our own blood flow (which symbolizes life itself or CHI energy), our own choices.)

To me, this dream is about my wrestling match with being 'normal' vs. not normal; with showing up for the angels as I am being called to do, as a witness to their presence.

And when I do, when I let my purple blood flow, they catch me.

It's also about the masculine, for sure, as almost everyone has pointed out so far - as my kids just left for college this year and I started to grow my business, and my public platform as an author and teacher.

Allen Gibson said...

A rainbow of anxieties, a kernel of mystery . . .

Physical health (blood disease), family approbation (patronizing sisters, even disappearing husband), financial insecurity, feeling "outside" to "regular" society (the nurse was the woman at the DMV,and also the gatekeeper to hospital care, and she went shrieking in disgust when your secret insecurity was revealed), some kind of shame or guilt (not wanting to make a mess with your purple blood, afraid to make a mess in the hospital).

I wonder at the description of the blood-- not purple like a royal robe or a lovely sunset, but purple like concord grape juice. Why a food? Why grape juice? (As a protestant minister, I am aware that most churches use grape juice instead of wine for communion. It symbolizes the blood of redemption, shed on the behalf of humankind. Is that something you are aware of, and is that another inroad into this multi-layered dream?)

Anxieties, and mystery . . .

In such a dream, being grabbed and told "I've got you" could be ominous, or threatening . . . instead, it seems climactically comforting. Why English and Spanish? Why would this be comforting? What is it you are running from, and need to run toward?

Why English and Spanish?

The telling of the dream is full of explanations . . . but dreams rise from and connect back to emotions, which are mostly non-verbal. Is the confusion of the dream due to the translation of the dream into narrative? What is the feeling tone of the dream, from beginning to end? Dread? Shame? Guilt? Sorrow? Follow the feeling, not the details.

Blessings,and most of all,Peace.


Amy Oscar said...

Oh, Allen - What wonderful insights and questions! Thank you so much.

What no one noticed - including me - was that the 'mood' of the dream was quite passive. I was letting myself be swept along; other people suggesting that I do things but I was not choosing any of it.

Not until I stood up and tried to leave the waiting room - and then, was pushed back into my blue plastic chair.

I think that my daughter's explanation expresses some of what you've raised: She said that the purple blood symbolizes the Divine guidance and wisdom that's begun to flow through me - and the 'mess" is my fear that, if I let it flow publicly - in full view - I will lose my place in 'normal' society.

The white shirt seems to be the symbol of my willingness to put on the garments of the spiritual teacher/leader but the 'stain' seems to indicate my fear that I will actually have to LIVE the life those with 'purple' blood must live.

So far, it seems to me that this dream was about stepping into my role - reluctantly - and letting the blood flow, knowing that there are two powerful 'men' standing behind me.

The waiting room is this in-between place where I now rest, waiting - quite literally - for my book to be finished so that I can step up to the plate.

Perhaps the message here is to step up now, and let the book complete itself when it will.

That, even if it's not ready; I am.

Beth (Hi, big sister!) said...

Also, a quick note on your worry about making a mess with the bursting forth of your "blood." I see that as life force, as your personal power moving into the foreground of your life, creating some concern that if you express your true self fully, you will make a mess/create a problem for others to clean up/feel ashamed.

Just saying.

Amy Oscar said...

I am seeing it that way now, too. Thank you, beloved sister.