Papi’s Dream

April 25, 2012

Papi and Me

Last dream of the night after 6:00. I’m sitting in a strange place, outdoors yet partially enclosed, defined by about 3 levels I equate with beds or lying down areas forming a square. A sense of dirt and dampness, shadowy. It seems to be at the corner of a city, like a gutted parking garage, and yet it is not that at all. I’m in a false awakening, remembering my dreams and disappointed I didn’t have a really good lucid with James as we’d hoped. Then Papi is sitting before me, wearing the red and white striped shirt of our photo together in front of the Egyptian Temple in the museum in NY. He says something to the effect of: “You didn’t have a dream, but I did. I was on a journey with a woman and after a surprisingly short time we reached our destination and became immensely wealthy.” He was smiling at me and I understood these riches were a metaphor for spiritual growth and wisdom as well as literal, monetary wealth. I said something about hoping it really turns out that way. He had given me the summary of his dream, now he set out to describe it to me in detail, and as he spoke, I rested my right cheek against his chest, looking up at his face. He felt and looked exactly like Papi; I could almost smell him he was so realistically present. But the low-lying ground meant there was a swarm of a really small insect with tiny black wings, a cross between a gnat, a moth and a mosquito, and one of them was on his cheek drawing, I assumed, his blood. I tried plucking it off, it sidled away into his nostril and I determinedly plucked it out wondering if Papi would think I was picking his nose, but he seemed unaware of my ministrations as he kept talking, looking immensely content. There were other such bugs on his legs, too many to shoo away. None of them bothered me. He was going slow, attempting to convey every emotion he had felt during the dream as accurately as possible, just the way I do, I thought. He said, “You know that feeling you get when a wild dog sidles up to you, and how they can sense your fear?” to describe what happened at one stage of the journey he took in his dream. Indeed I knew what he meant but I was having a really hard time hearing him because there was this undefinable but constant ambient noise, like a low-level roar, not of traffic, not of construction, I had no idea what was causing it, but I had to keep asking him to speak more loudly. He got up for something, leaving the area, and while waiting for him to return, I moved up to a higher level, like a long bunk-bed, where Mario had just awoken and wanted to tell me his dream. Below us, I saw Papi return lugging a huge bluish-white suitcase. I mean, it was massive and completely stuffed. He didn’t see me and worried he might think I had left, I cried, “I’m up here, Papi!” as I made my way back down to him. I woke.

Dream Notes: In attempting to describe the location, it occurred to me I was in some kind of archaeological excavation of a burial mound with several layers, somewhere humid, tropical.

Papi’s summary of his dream sounds like a description of what James, my dream partner, and I are doing. He saw I was disappointed I didn’t lucid dream with James that night and surprised me by announcing that he had dreamed as though consoling and encouraging me. Insects symbolize disturbing thoughts and hidden fears. Flying insects connect to the vast mobility of our darker thoughts. In Central America, small flying insects were often regarded as the souls of the dead revisiting earth. In Guatemala, where the belief endures, they are associated with the stars.* This is very interesting because Papi spent many years of his life working with U.S.A.I.D. in Central America, and I sensed the tropical feel of the place. The curious little insects were all over Papi yet they did not appear to bother him in the least. I was aware of them, as I am aware that at this crucial stage in my dream exploration with James doubts and the fear that it’s all, literally, a dream are bound to surface, yet they did not touch me, or Papi protected me from any doubts that might have begun plaguing me by coming to visit me, more viscerally than he ever has, to tell me his dream, which is my life. Certainly what James and I are doing is potentially spiritually enriching to all.

It’s as though my father was telling me that my life now is his dream come true, no more fear of dying and death.

The roaring sound I believe relates to some of the noises experienced during Out of Body transitions. Such a phenomena has never played a part in my dreams.

The suitcase Papi lugged in was related to the dream story he was telling me. An Inner Self packed with individual souls and lives? Blue and white, spirit and substance. If we are part of a soul family, incarnating together throughout history, we would symbolically share a suitcase. My brother was there, sleeping close by, reinforcing the family feel.

I feel Papi consecrated my new Lucid Dreaming space, initiated on the full moon. I will never forget the first dream I had there. It is the most visceral and vivid dream I have had with Papi since he died, and I’ve had quite a few. All day memories of him trickled through me as vividly as though they just happened. I felt immersed in his love and support.

* From Dictionary of Symbols a Penguin Reference

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  1. Pingback: Dreams of Mario, my Father | Lucid Living Lucid Dreaming

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