This is written in a time of emotional distress. Nothing like angst to juice the dream machine. Though this dream happened two nights ago I think it was important and I want to get it down.
I'm driving down a road by the ocean. In the car with me are three or four small children. The ocean is on my right. Ahead of me there are mighty cliffs with water roaring over them into the sea--imagine Iquazu or Niagra magnified a hundred times, as though the land had just this moment risen from the waves and was spilling the ocean from its back. The smashing water throws up great clouds of iridescent spray that catch and refract the sunshine. The sight is sublime and magnificent.
I stop the car so that the children can play on the small sandy beach between the road and the water--our location is still far from the cliffs. I am dazzled by the light and the tumult.
This is a fine example of something I dream of regularly: a magical landscape lit by a mystical light. Also, water and its release associated with small children. I can't help but think back to an emotionally significant dream when I was last in therapy involving a dam and my mother. Interesting word, that, dam. In the dream I'm recording today the water flows in glorious release and the children play happily. And this after a painful day with S opening and closing emotional gates.
Every man an artist in the great invisible.
