My drum set had some strange gunk on it, so I decided to soak it in the aquarium. It was not an assembled drum set, but all the drums were there, floating about with the fish and decorations- quite a large aquarium! In fact, there were also turtles and alligators alongside these huge goldfish, which were eating the gunk off of the drums. It didn’t seem to bother the fish at first, but then they all started to die. As they died, they transformed from huge goldfish to (freshwater) angelfish, and they sank to the bottom of the tank with their faces pointed down, almost like they were spades stuck in the gravel. The fish were a faded orange, and looked like arrows pointing down.

Suddenly there were fish all over the floor of the apartment, in neat and precise rows, stuck in like spades or tacks, and it was almost as if the whole place was an aquarium even though it wasn’t submerged in water.

At one point in the dream, I wrote this all down so I wouldn’t forget to put it in the journal. ;)

What to think of all this? Well, in real waking life, I have neither a drum set nor an aquarium. Drums call to mind marching to the beat of a different drummer, which applies to me in terms of originality, eccentricity, and also stubborn insistence. Perhaps drums symbolize my own different way of doing things. So it appears that my own different way of doing things is not quite pristine- in fact, it’s a little gunky. I’m inclined to believe in this case that the gunk might be interpreted as mud, and that since my drums are muddy, it means that my way of doing things (drums) has been criticized or beset (mud-slinging).

In order to right this, I have set the drums to soak in the aquarium. Aquariums, being water-filled containers, often refer to the subconscious mind or emotions. My way of doing things has been criticized, so I am trying to see how I feel about that.

Alligators and turtles may refer to being thick-skinned or hiding in my shell when it comes to these criticisms.

The goldfish are representative of luck and wealth (being gold) and the bearers of significant emotional insights (being creatures of the water). The goldfish eating the gunk are literally digesting the criticisms against me. What insight do they bring? They transform into angelfish, where angels are heralds of important messages and of spirituality. They also, by transforming into orange angelfish, transform into orange arrow-shapes, like those used in construction signs or warning signs. Pay attention, they say. Be careful.

The fact that the fish die is not really bleak, it is simply another change (as from goldfish to angelfish) and signifies changes which need to or will occur in my emotional understanding. It is more important that the “arrows” are pointing down, in the gravel, which means I need to be more grounded. Maybe some of the criticism against how I do things is grounded. Maybe I am walking about with my head in the clouds and I need to pay attention and be more practical.

That the arrow/angelfish are no longer confined to the aquarium but line the floors of the apartment as well shows that this message needs to come to conscious awareness and be applied to real life. The importance of the message, or the effect of the changes I need to make, is all pervasive, and, apparently, will impose a very impressive order as well (all lined up in neat and precise rows). That the floor is involved may show that I will be supported or find support as I implement these changes- although the tack analogy means that this process might not always be comfortable, and the spade reference might mean I need to do a little more digging before I can really proceed.

I was visiting an old and magical estate, there with another girl my age who was apparently also me or me from another place and time. The gentleman who had up until now owned the estate, and who may have been a shaman, was giving us a tour of the grounds. He looked quite young but that was an illusion. We had reached the back of the house, and were in a sublevel or basement level which was so extensive that it actually became a series of shallow caves with passages to the outside if you ventured back that far. We deigned to venture that far, and the gentleman was showing us yet another library when we came upon a gigantic tree who was sitting there reading. Upon seeing us, the tree swiftly retreated back into the caves, its gnarled face lit only briefly by my flashlight.
Too amazed to be sure what we had seen, we stood in shock for a moment. Our guide, however, was not in the least surprised and proceeded to tell us the legend of the tree (which for him was first-hand knowledge of a much more direct kind). It had spent hundreds of years gaining enough power to be able to move and then to cross that line between most of nature and man, which is to be able to read and access all that stored knowledge. The tree ultimately aimed to combine man’s knowledge with the knowledge that wild, natural things have, which is quite considerable in itself. It had been clandestinely reading for years, and had come to have a disturbing view of man based on these readings, and ironically had absorbed some of man’s mindset as well. The tree automatically assumed that we would prevent it from fulfilling its grand plan.

The guide then said he had a previous engagement and he didn’t want to be late, leaving us there in the back underparts of the house alone. My sister self and I didn’t get very far when out of the shadows lunged the tree, and from behind us the guide reappeared and stopped it with a glance. He told us that when he said be careful, he meant be careful, and prompted us to go outside to the yard where it was broad daylight. Then he wished us luck and gave the estate over to us, and left to god knows where his shamanistic journey would take him.

The tree, however, was not deterred by daylight, because it was afraid that we would get reinforcements to destroy it, based on what it knew of people. It was very scared of us, and it channeled that fear into rage- rage that we would disrupt or destroy the plan it had spent all those ages working to achieve, now when it was so very close to succeeding. It charged us from a distance, and that was phenomenally impressive, to be charged by a giant raging tree. It had to navigate a narrow passage to get to us, and, to that purpose, it called lightning down upon itself, purposefully breaking off a significant proportion of its branches so that it could fit through _{that’s how powerful it was}.
Immediately after, it realized that along with those branches it had sacrificed a corresponding amount of its own power, and now was no longer powerful enough to enter into man’s world and read. So there was this moment when it just stood there blinking, shocked out of its rage and realizing what it had done- and how influenced it had become by the thoughts of man. And we looked at it, and it looked at us, and we were truly sad for it, and it realized that we would not have harmed it in the first place. It just turned around to go back to the woods of the estate, to grow in power, and to one day return and start its reading over again.
Later we were in the gardens in the immediate back of the house, and there was a deck area and a large pool, a smaller pool, and a spa. Our extended family was reclining around the pool, enjoying a sort of semi-formal barbecue. The sun was beginning to set, and it was the beginning of autumn, with the leaves turning red on the trees.
The owner had left us a book on legends of the estate and the area, and now in the background a narrator’s voice was reading a story from this book about a prominent regional goddess. (This was heard only by myself and my sister self.) Something about it was very familiar, and I thought how when I’d seen the tree, and the tree was mad, I had immediately thought of the tree as “it” or “him”, but, now, remembering how the tree looked when crestfallen and shocked, I realized the tree was “she” after all: She was this exact goddess in the book. Everything matched up.

The narrator mentioned a ritual the locals did to worship that goddess, which involved saying her name over and over to yourself while in the water under the setting sun. Looking around at the family get-together, at the sky and the water in the pool, I realized the conditions were right. With a knowing glance at each other, I and my sister self jumped in the water, laughing joyously and feeling carefree. I was her, she was me, and we were both the goddess tree.

That’s how the dream ended, with this scene of us joyful, confident, surrounded by family. We were hopeful for a renewed beginning, even though we knew there was a long period of rest and stillness and waiting (a long winter) between now and then.

I love dreams like that… the ones that are like amazing stories that someone else is telling me.

did you ever see the movie Splash? the 80′s one about the mermaid? do you remember when, towards the end, scientists were after the mermaid, and they caught the human guy she loved and had put him in a tank—to see if maybe he was a merman or something too? well, they had him in this giant aquarium-looking tank, hooked up to monitors and the like.

and in the beginning of this dream, that’s what was going on with my daughter. she was in a big aquarium-tank full of water, and apparently under scientific observation. maybe I was even the scientist, but I’m not sure, it changed too much. obviously she was the subject of some kind of experiment, and they were watching her to see what would happen.

during the course of the dream…. my daughter wove a cocoon around herself. I swear. I’ve never dreamt anything like that before. (the closest I’ve come is dreaming that I was being wrapped up like a mummy in order, so said the dream, to get a good night’s sleep!) it was a regular fuzzy buggy looking cocoon. and we all eagerly awaited the moment she’d emerge, to see the transformation that had taken place.

now one might think that, obviously, she would emerge as a beautiful butterfly. and everyone would oooh and aaaah and she’d be so colorful and delightful. but, this is my daughter we’re talking about here. that would be entirely too silly as far as she’s concerned. I don’t think she has the slightest regard for butterflies (although we all know that she likes to pet bees). (in fact we might have predicted she’d emerge as a dinosaur. :D) no, no, my daughter emerged from the cocoon as— a baby hippo.

yep. the cutest darn baby hippo I’ve ever seen, but, a baby hippo.

maybe you see why I was so very disturbed by this dream. in the dream, mind you, I was not upset about anything. it all made sense in the dream. but when I woke up, I thought, what in the world? (and be prepared for me to sound very nerdy about this; I do enjoy being analytical and nerdy, you know ;) )

well… I thought… the kids’ favorite animal at the zoo is the hippo. the exhibit is such that you see the hippos from underwater, as if in a big tank. and one hippo (the one the kids really like) is such a ham. for such an enormous creature (on average, they’re 11 feet long, 5 feet tall, and can weigh up to 7,000 lbs), he is a graceful being, always showing off his underwater ballet. he twists, he turns, he comes up out of the water a bit, he moves along the tank wall, following people as they walk by, and then does the same thing but upside down… he is obviously loving all the attention. he is a powerful and glorious beast, and all the people who come to see him are his subjects and admirers. far from being sad about living in an enclosure, he is definitely in control of his life, his environment, and the people around him, and he’s perfectly happy to boot. the only time you might see him sulk is when other animals are getting more attention, which sometimes prompts him to come out of the water and lie in the sun… and then people are quite shocked and amazed to see ALL of the hippo—which is quite impressive indeed! he is 7,000 lbs. and his teeth are as big around and as long as my arm! for a grass-eater, esp, this is something worthy of consideration. keep in mind, they are used to, at most, only seeing his Eyes or Nose above water, if anything at all.

so, in the first part of the dream, my daughter is in a tank, in a lab, being watched as if a scientific specimen. which is very much in line with her being autistic and people writ large tending to regard her as an object of scientific concern instead of a fellow being. it’s always about data and forms and checksheets. she might as well be in a tank hooked up to monitors, like the beginning of the dream. in the end, of the dream, though, she is a baby hippo— destined to one day RULE that tank, and in no way upset by being observed, no, far from it… she is a graceful, glorious creature, and we are all her willing subjects. she knows she is powerful, has absolutely no qualms or self-confidence issues; she knows that we can’t help but admire her and be in awe. that’s one way I’ve come to interpret the dream: my daughter is going to be just fine, no matter what other people’s expectations of her are. she has her own life with her own experiences and she is very likely NOT going to fulfill anybody else’s ideas of what she should be (she’s not going to emerge as a butterfly after all), but she’ll be what she is happy and natural being (a cute little hippo). she does not need other people to validate her, because the people who see her for who she is will find her to be an amazing person, and to heck with the rest. literally speaking, a hippo’s skin weighs a ton, it is 4cm thick, bullet-proof and accounts for 25% of their weight. no snarky little comments directed her way are EVER going to get through to my daughter. they will bounce off and hit somebody else in the eye, maybe, but my daughter will be completely nonplussed (always has been, always will).

and in case we ever forget who we’re dealing with, or underestimate her, she’ll come out of the water and let us see her in the full light of day, where we can’t blame anything on distortions due to water.

this is the second way I’ve come to interpret the dream: most of the time she is underwater—in short, she has far far more potential and ability than she usually lets people see. and she does use her potential and ability, but in ways that are not easily/ readily recognized or noticed by others. but, again keep in mind, when she DOES come out of the water, it’s usually only to sleep in the sun. she STILL is not showing us all her potential. a hippo, with all that tonnage, can still run faster (sprinting) than a human on land— from 18-30 mph. and a hippo can bite a crocodile in half with its jaws. they are amazing creatures to be dealt with very very respectfully, and yet you might never guess one could even STAND on land, until it came after you :D . and my daughter, she has this marvelous potential (not to bite a crocodile in half of course, but I mean mental potential), and yet she will never show it to you unless she absolutely has to. which makes sense; hippos don’t typically go to extremes unless they are feeling very threatened, and my daughter is the same way.

the third way I’ve come to interpret the dream is this: water is usually symbollic of the subconscious or of the emotional realm, in dreams. my daughter is in a water-filled tank, therefore she’s submerged in the emotional reality of the world. but. hippos don’t swim. they can’t in the least bit swim. they only walk along the bottom (of the tank, river, etc), and then push against the bottom to rise towards the top. they can float, but they can’t swim. most creatures of the water DO swim. fish, turtles, salamanders, even ducks or otters… you’d think, if it spends so much time in the water; it could swim. but hippos don’t. the one at the zoo, with all his graceful ballet, doesn’t swim. he achieves his motion by pushing against the tank walls and the bottom of the pool, mostly. and yet! you really should see him. people are always taken aback when told that he can’t swim. you’d never know. he could fool anyone. and, you start thinking, does it matter that he doesn’t swim, when he moves so gracefully anyway? and I’d say, no, it doesn’t matter at all. they get around just fine. it’s different, but it works. and, my daughter, submerged in the emotional reality of the world, doesn’t “swim” either. she doesn’t navigate the social and emotional world in the same way as all the other creatures of the social world. but it really doesn’t matter. her way is different, but it’s beautiful, and it still works. in fact, if you’re not careful, it will fool you all across the board.

anyway, that’s the dream. and it was so meaningful to me that I thought you’d appreciate it; I thought I’d share.

Copyright 2009 Amy Howell. All rights reserved.