The Dream So I Could See

While this article may be read on its own, there is a character in this story that originates from another post called, The Roadmap of a Small Dream. I encourage the reader to take a peek at that article first.

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Why do we dream of our younger selves? Human beings have the notion that we live a linear existence—meaning once a moment of time has passed, it is over. Gone. Complete. But what if that is not the case at all? Quantum physicists have corroborated what indigenous peoples around the world have always known, that time is not actually linear at all. It's not only cyclical, it is happening all at once. Linear time is simply a construct that has been made so we can understand how we go from A to B to C. Unfortunately, this way of thinking is limited and hinders much of our healing. 

It's important to consider why we dream what we dream. If I dream of a younger self, is she reaching out to me? Is there a story from my past that is not yet complete as I once thought? Does she need my help?  These are questions that can put us on the road of discovery. We may not know the answer right away, but with a little imagination, along with a dose of determination, the answers are always waiting for us to uncover.

I recently had a dream where a younger version of me played the protagonist. She was five years old. I found that interesting, because I had another five-year-old dream only days before. That story was told in The Roadmap of a Small Dream. Two of my five year old selves were calling out to me to do some work for them in the same week. I had already done an extensive healing for the one. Now it was time for the other.

This was my latest dream:

There was something about "patterns of sequence" in this dream. I have no idea what that meant, but the message was clearly there.

I was on my kindergarten playground and England's Royal family, including Queen Elizabeth II, King Charles III and Queen Consort Camilla, plus the Waleses and the Sussexes were all on the edge of the playground. While a middle-aged version of Prince Philip knelt down on his knees so that he could speak to me at eye level. We were in the middle of the yard, near the swing set. The rest of his family were simply onlookers from afar.

Again I sensed "a pattern of sequence" (as I called it in the dream) along with a red rubber ball bouncing. 

End dream.

I woke up and noticed the clock. It was 2:34am. I thought the 2-3-4 was an interesting pattern. Since "patterns of sequence" was a key element that floated in my awareness during the dream, this pattern of numbers in my waking life now stood out to me.

The two most amplified elements of the dream were Prince Phillip and the "patterns of sequence" idea. Even though I could not see or understand what the patterns of sequence meant, I felt it could potentially have deep meaning for me.

My first order of business was to figure out what Prince Phillip a.k.a. the Duke of Edinburgh was doing in my dream.

Recently I had dreamed of Queen Elizabeth II and Charles III quite a bit over a few-week period, but admittedly I was a bit surprised to see Prince Philip. Out of all the royals, I would say he is the least interesting for me personally. Nevertheless, here he was, a prince kneeling down to me.

Obviously, it stuck out to me that this could be a metaphor for me looking for my prince. I have had a history of choosing men who appeared to be princes, but who were really very large toads. Here was yet another pattern for me to notice. I felt this decoding was amplified especially since in another dream I had the previous night, I was told that someone would be coming into my life that would be exactly like a rather horrendous ex-boyfriend of mine. I could see that with both dreams, they were telling me to stay away from men who enabled me to repeat my previous patterns. Check. Noted. Done.

Moreover, the prince or a knight in shining armor archetype can be about rescuing the damsel in distress. I suppose sometimes I wish I could be rescued, but in reality, my days of being a princess are over. I am a queen, and I am perfectly content ruling my life on my own. However, if someone does show up, he needs to be on an equal footing with me.  Prince Philip did get on his knee in order to be on an equal footing with my young self. This metaphor was clear to me. I do not need or want someone to rule over me, nor do I want to rule over anyone else. At this stage in the game, I would only be interested in someone who can grow with me spiritually. 

When I look at Prince Philip, personally, as a dream character for me, I think of him in his prime as a "man's man" sort of guy. Macho to the hilt, but he could never be his full expressive self, because his wife was the head honcho. Since he couldn't truly be the person he wanted to be in the world, the word I chose for him is impotent. I don't mean sexually impotent, as I get the feeling he probably didn't have any issues in that area. I do mean that he wasn't allowed to work in a profession that he might have had under normal circumstances, nor could he make decisions as a constitutional monarch. He was required to stand behind his wife. To me, this gave him an essence of powerlessness. 

I can see how that relates to my spiritual business, because my goal is to work solely as a writer as well as a Shamanic and Dreamwork practitioner. My deepest desire is to help others dream in a magical life, but the reality is that I need to survive in this 3D world. I need to have an income that can keep me afloat. This means that my Spiritual business, which is my passion, often takes a backseat, which is devastating to my Soul. Sometimes I feel I can't "get it up" and running successfully, which can be frustrating. 

After this decoding was complete, I initially thought I was done, but the dream kept calling me back to it. I took it as a sign that there was more for me to discover. In looking more deeply into the dream, Prince Philip could have come to me at any age, but in the dream I was five, playing on the school yard playground. What did that playground mean for me? Maybe there was some association there that I needed to uncover.

My next step was to come up with any associations I had with my kindergarten playground. I loved recess. I played on the swing a lot. I played hop scotch and played with the red rubber ball too, but there was one day in my kindergarten year, where the playground stood out the most in my memory. 

Recess began as usual. Kids poured out of the classroom onto the enclosed kindergarten playground. Some climbed the jungle gym. Some played with a little red ball. Some swung on the swing set. I had other interests that day. 

One of my classmates sat in a little red wagon. She didn't want to just sit there, but pulling the wagon was far too ordinary for our liking. Instead, two of us tried to change things up a bit. A boy whose name I have long since forgotten, and I decided it would be fun to get in on the action and try something different. He jumped to the back of the wagon and started to push it from behind, while I pushed the little boy who was pushing the wagon. This was not a graceful glide across the playground. We were pushing the wagon as recklessly as humanly possible—laughing all the way. We three delighted in our wagon mahem. We curved our way through the other kids on the playground. We made our way to the front of the swing set. We were in the center of things—the star attraction on that day. We loved the attention and we loved having fun.

But then, in an instant, everything changed. The laughter subsided. The movement of the yard seemed to come to a screeching halt. All eyes were on me alone.

By no fault of his own, the little boy who pushed the wagon in front of me, had accidentally kicked his heel into my right eye—while my eye was wide open! Only a moment before, I played to my heart's content. Now, I writhed in agony screaming as loudly as my little lungs could muster.

It's no wonder I was screaming. I had never felt such intense pain as I had on that day. It wasn't an intentional act of violence, and it certainly wasn't my young friend's fault. It was simply one of those childhood accidents that we have all had to endure in one form or another. Nevertheless, the result of this particular occurrence, meant that I couldn't really open my eyes. When I managed to open my eyes at a slit, I only saw a blinding white light. I could not manage to make out any details of anything anywhere. Even though I was kicked in only one eye, my five-year-old self had not yet learned how to open only one eye at a time. So, for now, I was blind. The two eyes acted as one and I could not see. I heard various young voices and then adult voices above me, but I could not process their words over my screams. I was lost in my own world.

I do know that I ended up on the cot in the school nurse's office with an ice pack on my eye. My mother was called to pick me up. I am not sure how long this scenario lasted, but it seemed like hours before she arrived. Of course, thirty minutes to a youngster is like three days, but in my young self's mind it took an exceedingly long time. And in that time, however long it took, my howls continued to make themselves known to everyone in earshot. That pain was absolutely intolerable.

Then all of the sudden, after what seemed like several hours, out of the blue, my eye stopped hurting and I could open my eyes and see again. That's how I remembered it.

Fifty-one years later, I pondered why that scene was coming up for me now while thinking about this dream. Part of dreamwork is dream associations. Ergo, if thinking about the playground, which I always thought of as fun, but then suddenly my thoughts get stuck in a repeating loop in my mind showing me this accident, I wondered if that five-year-old version of me was calling out to me for some healing. Time is not linear. It is all happening at the same time. My younger self may not have been consciously aware that her wails were reaching across time a half a century later to my current self, but her Soul knew the truth. I was ready to answer. And as an interesting side note, I noticed a play on words here. The Prince and Princess of Wales were in my dream. The wordplay of Wales and my five-year-old wails was not lost on me.

Now for the healing. As a Shamanic-Reiki practitioner, I can send healing across time and space. We all can do it. It's simply that many of us have forgotten our true power. In this session, I saw in my mind's eye me on the playground with Prince Philip, only now, he disappeared. The entire Royal Family vanished. It was me and that playground now. Little me wailed and I took it as a sign to get to work on the healing. She needed my help, and I planned on doing just that. 

I thought it might be interesting to invite the other five-year-old me that I just recovered in a soul retrieval only a few days earlier to help with this healing. I imagined the "other" five-year-old version of me kneeling at the injured-five-year-old-me's feet sending her healing up her body from her ankles. As soon as the "other" five-year-old me placed her hands on the injured five-year-old me's ankles, my present-self that was sitting on the couch in my living room, felt a visceral warm healing energy from my ankles to my knees so profoundly that I knew that I was a healer even then. 

I wanted to just stop and feel this energy, but I had a mission to accomplish. In my mind's eye, I placed my hands on injured-little-me's eyes. I immediately sensed her body relax as though a sigh of relief washed through her. I also saw a large red heart symbolizing my current self and two small red hearts symbolizing these two five-year-old versions of me. It was a sweet group of symbols representing the three of us. 

This is what I saw from my adult perspective, but then my perspective switched when my consciousness jumped into my young injured body. I could see everything from her perspective now. I felt the hands at my ankles. I felt the hands on my eyes. I felt the wave of relief move through me. 

I also saw that after the accident, a piece of my Soul left my body. Now, I was that Soul part. The trauma was too much. I had to leave. I watched myself in non-ordinary reality, as this 5-year-old Soul part, wandering around the school. My young self initially saw a room with a sign on the door that read "Welcome Back," but I didn't want to go in there just yet. I meandered through the halls until I came to the last classroom. 

In this room, I saw a large cake in the shape of a heart with two smaller heart-shaped cakes next to it. I knew my older self and the other five-year-old self were calling me back. These heart cakes were the reminder. I was ready now. I stood up and retraced my steps to the "Welcome Back" room. This time I entered. 

The final healing took place in this room. My conscious awareness was now back in my present self. In the end, the two young Soul parts merged back into me and I welcomed them both back with open arms.

After seeing the healing from the three perspectives; my young self, my current self, and the detached Soul part, it suddenly occurred to me that the reason why my pain suddenly stopped all those years ago was because, in this moment of now, I sent healing back in time. This dream helped to remind me to do the healing so that I could see again all those years ago.

I could now see that the "patterns of sequence" in my dream was a message to me to send this healing across time. There was a sequence of events that needed to happen. I needed to grow up and become a Reiki Master and Shamanic Practitioner so that when the time was right, my fifty-six year old version of me would be able to send healing to the past. I needed to heal the "other" five-year-old first. I then needed to invite her to the injured five-year-old's healing. I could see these events and more unfolding in my mind, almost like a mandala taking shape. This was the pattern of sequence that I was being invited to follow—the set of circumstances that were getting me from then to now and back then again. I am glad I paid attention to the calling. 

This was my personalized story, but we can all learn from it. When we listen to our dreams and callings, we can tap into what our younger selves need, allowing us to be happy, healthy and whole. And that is a good thing.

Thank you for reading. Sleep well. Dream well.

~Lisa