I have always had vivid,
surreal dreams. I usually
remember them, and frequently they are
weird enough to make me wake up wondering if there is something wrong with me, some sort of freakish
chemical imbalance in my brain that is making my subconscious drop slowly into the depths of
insanity without letting the rest of me in on the secret.
Last night was one of the special ones...the ones I remember in highly-saturated color. Usually my dreams are in quiet color, but this one had color like
Munchkinland had in the Wizard of Oz. Color so thick you can taste it in the back of your throat.
Last night I dreamt I was a
Goddess. I had come to earth in human form to restore the faith of my people, just like
Jesus is reputed to have done for the Christians. I was focusing on one person, who was crucial to restoring my religion... I became his lover, traveling with the group of people he traveled with (gypsies? nomads?) and working some quirky miracles...like when I gave them all identical pairs of
glittery floral-pattern pants. Produced out of thin air, and fitting each person perfectly. They were amazed at that, that the pants fit each on of them like a glove.
I remember being disappointed that they didn't notice how
glittery the pants were.
And like the
pop-singer Goddess in the movie
Dogma, looking into my eyes could be a very special thing. But it was hard for me. To let someone see the divinity of my soul I had to open something in my mind, behind my eyes, and it hurt to do it. Each time I let someone see my soul it left my
mortal body weaker, until it was time for it to return to the earth. The man I had been lover to was so deeply
hurt that my body was
dying. My body was buried, and he was contemplating
ending his own life, but I could not let that happen (remember, he was crucial to the future of my religion!) so I spoke gently in his mind and promised that I would return to him, and that I would
always reply when he spoke to me.
For someone who is not
Christian, this was a very strange
dream. It is obviously a personal variation of the story of Jesus (perhaps with the exception of the pants..) which did not strike me until later. I was not aware of Christianity in my dream...as a goddess I was very
egocentric.
When I woke up, I felt somehow
wounded, as if I had lost something that was so very, very important. Important but
intangible, hidden in that teasing place in your mind where things slip and make you feel like you are so close to remembering but can't. My dream was talking to me but apparently I missed the
punch line.