Thursday, June 3, 2004

Seabed Bound

I am swimming at the bottom of the ocean. The water is cool, only the sound of bubbles coming from my mouth. I can usually breathe under the water in my dreams. It is dark at the bottom, not much around. I am searching the floor for shells, when suddenly an enormous octopus snags me in its tentacles. They wrap around me, suckers everywhere on my skin, thick arms around my waist, legs and neck. It drags me closer to its beak, but I don’t resist. "I wish I could glide through the water like you," it says. "But you’re an octopus, you can swim," I reply. With that it releases me, sucks in a large gulp of water and thrusts itself forward with the release of water. I remember feeling confused. How come this octopus thought it was seabed bound?

I continue to swim and a manta ray glides by, scooping me up on its wing. I see its large eyes and instinctively trust it. I curl myself on its wing, feel the slow rhythmic beating like a heart beat, slow and steady, and yet we are flying fast, colours changing rapidly. It flies right out of the water, straight up into the air. Its glossy, smooth skin changes into feathers. When I look at its head, it is now an eagle. Afraid of falling, I grab its feathers roughly while trying hold on. It screams a piercing noise, rapidly flying through the tops of trees. Branches and leaves smash against my head, nearly knocking me off. I don't trust this bird, its furious wings and piercing noises. It flies into a bright, open sky and circles a few times. The light is everywhere, so bright that I bury my face into its feathers. It cries for the last time, dives straight down. I am falling, wind hitting my face... and then I am in the water again. Still holding onto the bird, I feel its skin change, turn slippery like wet rubber. It is black. I am treading at the surface in water like ink, a storming dark sky. No light anywhere. Serpents or sleek shark-like bodies churn the water. They rub against me, but I am not afraid.

This makes a really bad story, but none-the-less an interesting dream — the water/ sky, dark/light dichotomy. But what does it mean? So I'm in darkness, afraid to fly much in the same way the octopus was afraid to leave its seabed. My dreams tell me when I'm stressed or afraid, but I already know I am anxious. I wish they'd give me advice instead.