I had a strange dream sequence recently. Can’t get it out of my head. Or, the universe won’t let me forget it. This is not unusual for me. That the universe won’t leave me alone that is. It happened during the writing of the first book of the Wrathful Empathies trilogy. It was like a tapping at the window, knocking at the door, or subtle nudge of the wind on my shoulder when there was no breeze. It can be an eerie sensation that calls my mind to listen, to focus, to think and then record my thought. Seemingly random images drift into my conscious through a thin barrier from a darker subconscious reservoir. Like a breeze blowing through a screen door, the force is barely diminished but clearly coming in from outside. Anyway, I am now trained to think about these images. To mull them over and over. Often, they reappear but advanced, evolved, transformed into constantly new variants of an ever clarified image. Maybe my mind is taking the raw stimulus and focusing it into a sharper image. Or, I believe, quite shockingly, that I am my own shaman capable of dream interpretation.
A couple nights ago I had a terrible nightmare. I woke up sensing real fear. Over the next couple days and nights, it returned but in less frightening ways until finally I had an epiphany of sorts. Here it is:
A campfire is blazing in vast forest. The night sky is visible between the barren tree tops. It is a dark magenta but bright enough to distinguish tree branches overhead. They are swaying in a gusty breeze above the bare dirt campground. I am there. Standing back away from the fire ring of stacked stones, I am a witness to the scene itself. Flames leap up towards the sky. A wide circle of light illuminates a collection of folding camp chairs, some are empty and some have family and friends sitting in them. Everyone is laughing, talking and maybe even signing. Some people are drinking beer and rapidly getting drunk. I approach the campfire and greet everyone. I notice a chair is situated just past the edge of the circle of light from the campfire. It is occupied by someone but I can’t tell who. Only their feet appear visible. From the waist up the person is in shadows. Whoever it is, they appear to be enjoying the atmosphere of friendship and partying. I can see a silhouette nodding its head with the rhythm of the music playing on the boom box. I call out to them. “Hey, who is there?” No answer. I approach and my headlamp shines on their feet. Something is not right I suddenly realize. I don’t see shoes, boots or sandals. They are not feet at all. Instead, they are cloven hooves. What I am seeing makes no sense. My mind is in disbelief. I raise my headlamp upward. The person is wearing typical outdoor gear, I even recognize the brand. My headlight shines on its face. The creature reacts badly to the bright light. Its face is covered with hair. Bloodshot red eyes show alarm. With the light in its face, the creature bares its fangs, drops its beer can and leaps backward into the darkness. The camp chair tips over. I scream and wake up, probably screaming more. The vision was horrifying. A terrible creature was sitting so close to us, in our midst, yet we didn’t know it. We were in danger of having our throats ripped out. I eventually went back to sleep on the couch in the basement. Another dream frightened me again. The creature returned but this time it was in my house. I could not tell if I was asleep or awake. I heard footsteps on the stairs. I opened my eyes and watched the same creature descend into the basement. It confronted me in the darkened room. The street lamp outside the grade level window framed its hairy horned body. I could tell it was staring at me. It opened its mouth to talk but I could not hear anything. It turned and walked away through the wall. I froze in fear. My fear subsided quickly. I spent the next day thinking about these two dreams. The creature had evolved somehow. It seemed less demonic, less wild, more controlled and more intelligent. I had only to wait one more night for its transformation again. Sleeping in my bed, I suddenly sensed something in the room. This time I was on the fourth floor of our townhouse. There is a small patio deck beyond a full sliding glass set of doors. It was illuminated by the light of the full moon. A shadow moved. From the edge of the curtain, the creature returned. This time I felt less fear and a strange sense of familiarity. I knew this being. It was not the wild demon from the campfire dream but something from deep in my past. I sensed a very, very, very old acquaintance. Half stranger, half kindred. There was no fear. I got the impression the creature wanted me to come with it out into the night. I had been here before. In high school and college, my friends would appear outside my window baying at the moon and asking me to run wild with them through the glass. Typically, I would ignore them. Eventually, they would utter curses and attack my manhood but slink back to their car. I would lie in bed and hear their drunken giggling and laughing up the drive. Car doors slammed and I was alone again. This was a very similar feeling with the creature. The creature was simply asking me to come out and play. I declined, of course. It stamped its hooves in disgust and disappeared. I had work the next day, lots of meetings, a presentation, employee appraisals and a long commute to and from the city. I turned in my bed, snuggled into my pillow and tried to fall asleep. The cries of foxes racing through the moonlit yards of our subdivision kept me awake. Their shrieks sounded like babies crying. The sounds echoed from every direction. One minute it was up the street, then down the street in another minute. Eventually, the noises of the their battle faded away. In my mind’s eye, I saw them retreat into the leafy woods which glistened in the light of the full moon. A much larger creature was in pursuit.
So, after a little reflection, I lay in bed, stared at the ceiling and wondered if the supernatural was talking to me. The evolution of my dream was complete. The demon at the edge of the campfire, had become a wild wolfman, which then transformed in a Pan like creature from Greek mythology and finally took its last shape as the Celtic god Cernunous. Memories of a wild, misspent youth came flooding back. Those were really good times. I was wild and free. What happened to me. I suddenly felt confined as if in a cage. I smiled at the memory of being free. Of course, other thoughts approached me. I thought about my choice of image for Kindred bumper sticker. Why did I pick an image of a deer head on a human torso? It came to me while scrolling through pictures. It had to be both man and animal. I always saw the Kindred as something with ancient origins. How else do you describe the deep everlasting connection of blood relations? The image I chose came to mind instantly. Also, I realized that the image I picked for my Vagaries Tavern t-shirt revealed yet another ancient message. The man at the edge of the wood, intoxicating (from wine or nature?) leaning against an old bent tree. My choice of image has an uncanny resemblance to the image of Pan and the reclining woman I found months later researching this post. I wonder if Pan was invisible to me in the original picture. There but not there. Only after continued searching of what lies hidden in the subconscious can I see his presence.
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