|
|
There's a good history 'round the world of birds as symbolizing death, sure, but there's more history of them as messengers. If you're feeding the little bird the tea, I would think that was a calming message of some kind, hence the catch and release. Imparting that calmness/kindness and then knowing you'll have to let it go might sting like upcoming death.
I've been inundated with odd, uncomfortable dreams, lately. Most of my life I've been plagued with horrible mean nightmares, virtually every night, which only stopped/slowwed down a few years ago. I never had a happy dream that I remembered on waking, until maybe '99.
Anyhow, last night's was more detailed than the tick-eating dream (that I still don't understand), and involved being in a large amphitheater-like structure. Woods on one end with the waterways behind them that there almost always is when I have dreams with woods, and desert on the other. I'm talking with my brother, on one level of the steps, very low and near the stage area, and we're disagreeing over something. Someone's passing out food. My brother gets a hot meal and I get a sandwich and some chips. There's metal tumblers of water that refill themselves readily, which makes me goofily happy.
A woman joins our conversation and my brother leaves huffily, since he doesn't like the direction of the conversation and doesn't much go in for talking with women in general. He goes down a few more steps and joins some dead family members, where he continues to eat his chicken (I think it was chicken - white meat in a gravy), and we keep talking about nothing much at all. And I get the feeling there should be something important to the conversation, and make the suggestion we go further up.
Towards the back of the aphitheater, I realize it's not actually elevated, because the highest part of the back is still ground-level. We sit down, the woman and I, with another woman, a friend of hers, who's wearing fatigues and has a smaller metal cup as opposed to the tumblers the rest of us are used. Hers also has rust over it, almost growing.
The woman in fatigues asks if we've got anything could help her get something open. I start looking through jacket pockets until I find a little folding knife and pass it over. She wants to see my sandwich, which I still haven't touched. I keep drinking the water.
Knife isn't doing it, is there anything else? Search pockets with that slow feeling that you're moving but no actual sensory detail of really putting a hand in a pocket or anything, I get a bit self-conscious about how fake it is, like I'm just pretending to look even though I really want to find something and neither I, nor the initial woman (who I've suddenly realized looks like me, taller and in drag) turn anything up.
Fatigues asks me why I never joined. There are people going around us, asking people in various uniforms, costumes, and sometimes wearing stitched on skins, why they joined, what they think they're doing, and when asked why they're harassing people about this, give them something about how it's for their own good, because they're so young and innocent and shouldn't have to be doing what they're signed up to do. Far as I can tell, they're signed up to live.
I tell woman-in-fatigues I haven't noticed not-joining keeping me out of anything I want to be in on. She starts eating part of the sandwich. I get irritated and panicky over the sandwich being eaten, but she passes me a third of it, and a third to the other woman.
We step off the back of the amphitheatre and head for a jeep. They want to go out into the desert. I want to know why. 'My brother' I say 'is back in the amphitheater. Near the bottom.' They both kind of get disappointed and tell me it isn't an amphitheater. Ask me if that's what I think it is, what I think it looks like.
I want to know why we're going in this jeep into the desert, and they assure me, there's no reason not to, and by the time we get there, it'll be cooled down, the stars will be out, and we can just relax. I felt another pang of mild guilt for having been jealous that people were eating part of my sandwich, and then felt very relaxed, like everything really would be summed up with 'no reason not to' and looked out at the first few stars coming into brightness at the horizon of combed desert wind-waves.
Woke up, and wrote down notes of the dream so as to keep it fresh in mind. I'm sure there's all sorts of useful psychodramatic and spiritual relevance, but I'm too close to it, and my analyses get all backtracky and hesitant. |
|
|