Fall is coming, the days are much shorter and the sunlight has that mellow, golden hue particular to this time of year. The leaves have not changed yet, but I am looking forward to that. Fall is particularly beautiful here, it has a kind of gorgeous melancholy to it.
While my concsious mind may have put it aside, my subconscious reminded me that it was around this time seven years ago that my father passed away. The other night, I had a dream that I was wading through one of the culverts that feed the rice paddies. The water was fast-flowing, clear, cold and about knee-deep. I was pushing against the current as I walked, when I tripped over my dad, lying underwater, in a white shroud, his eyes were open and very blue. And he was definitely alive, even breathing, there under the water. He looked directly at me as I lifted him out of the water and then (rather accusatorily) asked me how long the family was going to let him lay in the culvert. I apologized, saying we had thought he was dead and buried all this time, so it wasn't our intention to leave him in the culvert. I started down the culvert again, alongside the paddy, cradling Dad in my arms, with the shroud dripping cold water all over. I was about to ask Dad why he was in the culvert if he wasn't dead, when I realized that I was dreaming and woke up, laying on my back, with my arms up, as if I had indeed been carrying somebody.
I don't often dream of my father, but I do often dream of water. Always have, actually. The water is sometimes infinitely deep, clear and pretty. Those dreams are amazing, suffused with light and comfort. But mostly I dream of black, dark water, like the kind you see around the cassions of bridges. Dreams involving "black water" are always nightmarish and I usually wake from the dream sweating and gasping and terrified. Jung used water to represent the dreamers unconscious, but I'm not so sure that this is correct for me. I think the water, like other things that appear in dreams has symbolism, but that symbolism is unique to the dreamer.
I found it interesting that in my dream, the water in the culvert was clear. Actually, as I think about it, the dream water sort of reminds me of tears, which is, I must admit,a bit disappointing cliche. In real life, the water in a paddy culvert is usually fast-flowing (unless the culvert has been closed, then there's no water), but it is not clear, it is kind of muddy and murky with flotsam and jetsam in. You normally couldn't get me near the stuff, or even near a paddy, for fear of leeches and who knows what else. To be honest, the part of the dream that threw me off was me being in the paddy culvert, not the part about finding me daddums there. I've had weirder dreams about him than this one.
I've been walking around, kind of pondering the dream, but so far, nothing has sprung to light about what the dream may have meant--if it meant anything at all.
While my concsious mind may have put it aside, my subconscious reminded me that it was around this time seven years ago that my father passed away. The other night, I had a dream that I was wading through one of the culverts that feed the rice paddies. The water was fast-flowing, clear, cold and about knee-deep. I was pushing against the current as I walked, when I tripped over my dad, lying underwater, in a white shroud, his eyes were open and very blue. And he was definitely alive, even breathing, there under the water. He looked directly at me as I lifted him out of the water and then (rather accusatorily) asked me how long the family was going to let him lay in the culvert. I apologized, saying we had thought he was dead and buried all this time, so it wasn't our intention to leave him in the culvert. I started down the culvert again, alongside the paddy, cradling Dad in my arms, with the shroud dripping cold water all over. I was about to ask Dad why he was in the culvert if he wasn't dead, when I realized that I was dreaming and woke up, laying on my back, with my arms up, as if I had indeed been carrying somebody.
I don't often dream of my father, but I do often dream of water. Always have, actually. The water is sometimes infinitely deep, clear and pretty. Those dreams are amazing, suffused with light and comfort. But mostly I dream of black, dark water, like the kind you see around the cassions of bridges. Dreams involving "black water" are always nightmarish and I usually wake from the dream sweating and gasping and terrified. Jung used water to represent the dreamers unconscious, but I'm not so sure that this is correct for me. I think the water, like other things that appear in dreams has symbolism, but that symbolism is unique to the dreamer.
I found it interesting that in my dream, the water in the culvert was clear. Actually, as I think about it, the dream water sort of reminds me of tears, which is, I must admit,a bit disappointing cliche. In real life, the water in a paddy culvert is usually fast-flowing (unless the culvert has been closed, then there's no water), but it is not clear, it is kind of muddy and murky with flotsam and jetsam in. You normally couldn't get me near the stuff, or even near a paddy, for fear of leeches and who knows what else. To be honest, the part of the dream that threw me off was me being in the paddy culvert, not the part about finding me daddums there. I've had weirder dreams about him than this one.
I've been walking around, kind of pondering the dream, but so far, nothing has sprung to light about what the dream may have meant--if it meant anything at all.
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