HONORING THE DREAM Sandy Ginsberg, M.S., M.F.T. In a dream, an object appears to me which seems simple and direct, and yet, "feels" significant or profound. It may or may not have anything to do with the main storyline or theme. In another dream, I’m looking through papers and the message is of great importance, but when I awaken, I can’t remember what is written. We run the risk of postponing the gift from the dream when we fail to take action. By honoring the dream creatively, we allow the dream’s message an opportunity to be delivered to us. By honoring the dream, I am referring to the conscious effort to manifest a part of the dream in the waking world. This creative act can take form as visual art, earthwork, food preparation, music, interaction with another, or an activity or journey that is calling to you. I, myself have honored the dream generally in terms of visual art, but many avenues are available (probably as many as you will allow). Here are a few examples from my journal: I am caring for my friend’s home. My sister and I are here, and I’m afraid someone will break in. My sister has no fear. When there is a knock at the door, she opens it without a care. I see that these are friends of ours. As it is Holiday time, I remember that I have fashioned cards for each of them, and I hand them out. My friends are pleased and impressed by the uniqueness of each expression, and I feel proud. It’s just now that I realize that I have none for Mort. I was sure I had made one, but now I’m not sure. I look around and I find it tucked into a bookshelf. It is on olive textured paper which has been crinkled up permanently. It is somehow beautiful. It feels profound to me (and to him). When I awoke, I knew I had to make this card. I found just the right paper at the art supply store, and I tore a quarter of the sheet to make the card. As I crinkled it up, it tore oddly, and I knew I had it wrong. I tried again with a second portion of the sheet, but this time I saturated it with water. As I crinkled it up in my hands, forming it into the rectangle that I had remembered, it felt like a strong supple leaf. It felt alive. I took satisfaction in the sensual nature of this experiment. And now I knew on a deeper level what I am to offer to Mort..."life." I had already made the word connection of Mort=death, but I had no idea what a crinkled olive green greeting would mean, and the exercise in honoring helped me to understand more fully. In another dream: People have left me many old notes in a little box by my front door. They have been tied together with pale pink ribbon and there are two little bronze baby shoes attached. I know this is important. I want to read the notes, but the action in the dream calls me to attend in other ways. I am torn from the bundle and I want to know what the message is. When I awaken, I know there are some notes that I have which are on yellowed paper (owing to their age). I decide to honor the dream by bundling up the notes I can gather. I find notes from fathers and mothers to their children. I find documents of congratulation and sadness. I find some from the 19th century in Norwegian. When I read them, I feel a closeness with my ancestry and I recreate the bundle as it appeared in my dream. I purchase the same pale pink ribbon, I tie the bundle and then I have the dilemma of finding ½" long bronze baby shoes. The salesperson claims not to have any such thing, but I feel sure that they must be here somewhere. To her amazement, I have found them, and so I attach the shoes and I feel as if I’ve honored the desire of the dream by spending time connecting to those who have gone before me. Not all honoring is easy, but there is a satisfaction, and a connecting to greater reward when the manifestation is completed. Here is one last dream as an example of information given to help with my health concerns: I am weaving leaves of grass together. The Host has invited all of the guests to weave in this way, and we do, and when we have accomplished a portion, he give us the tape to secure a side of the weaving. I have three sides secured, and now he seems to be ignoring me. He continues to help everyone else, and I just wait. I get the feeling he isn’t going to give me the last piece and I turn the grass weaving around to the front to marvel at its green-on-green simplicity. To my surprise, there are words and icons along all the edges. How did they get there? I’m quite surprised, but I realize that’s why the Host isn’t letting me finish. Since there’s stuff in the margins, I need to turn back the edges further. When I wrote this into my journal, I got a chill. I had just had surgery for cancer. I was waiting for the pathology results, and now this news..."the margins aren’t clear!" I took a big breath, and knew I had to do a weaving to honor this gift of knowledge. When I wove two magazine images together, I chose to cut them methodically into ¼" strips and then work them, over, under, over, under, etc. It took so much patience. Aha! I need patience! The weaving just happened to be of two images: one, a man’s arm with a spot of blood, and the other a woman’s arm with a threat of thorn to her soft flesh. These images had been chosen by chance, just for their colors and shapes, but I realized afterward how important it was to the healing of my arm (the location of the cancer). I hope by sharing this, you’ll be encouraged to work on the imagery that comes to you in your dreaming. There is always more to know, and it wants to be known.

Sandy's Links to visit

www.ginsberg-psychotherapist.com

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