Hurt and healing

H is for healing and hurt in the Blogging from A to Z. I mentioned dreaming of monsters in my Gift post, and this is the poem about that dream. It is hard work to heal.

Advice to Micheal

Neverland
Is such an ironic name
Can’t they hear?
Can’t they think?
The land where boys never grew up
The Lost Boys

And you
Are not molesting
Boys
You are
Searching
When I heard
About your childhood
I knew
They were wrong
They’ve missed the boat

You sang
Like an angel
And the world
Stole your childhood

Hotel rooms
With older brothers
Sex
Drugs
Alcohol
Money
Chaos
And you must have been
So frightened
Lost
Pressure to sing
As the star

Locked your core self away
To keep it safe

My childhood
Was scary too

I started my search
With a dream
Of a dark hole
From which came the sound
Of monsters
Howling

I was scared

I went to the hole
anyway
scared
of the howling

The hole was dark
And roots stuck out of the side
Like reaching fingers

I got a flashlight
And looked

It wasn’t as deep
As I thought
And the roots worked as
A ladder

I climbed down
Into the hole

I found three monsters
Howling

Baby monsters

I put them in my pack
And carried them up
Into the light

They howled

I bathed them
And diapered them
And fed them
And rocked them

They howled
They didn’t know what to do
When taken care of

I named them
Fear
Grief
Shame

At last they stopped howling
And sat
Warm
Wrapped in blankets
Ugly
Sullen
Lower lips thrust out

And I found a shrink
To talk about my dream
And to help heal the monsters
That I had rescued

We always have more
Work to do
But now I have a little girl
Inside me
Who came to greet me
When I had healed the monsters
Enough
She is beautiful

You won’t find
The Lost Boy
That you are looking for
Outside you
He is inside
He is innocent
And beautiful

You may have to face
The monsters
Of your childhood
To reach him
Yours was worse than mine
I’m sorry

You may have to face
How much people you loved
Hurt you
Even though they loved you
I’m sorry

Find help
And rescue
The Lost Boy
And joy

Good luck.

Poem written August 10, 2005. Previously published on everything2.com.

Gift

G in the Blogging from A to Z, for gift.

Dreams are a gift. Dreams may be the unconscious speaking and attempting to bring something to consciousness. We may have a collective unconscious.

I am no expert in analyzing dreams. My minister says that we should stand in relation to dreams. That we should hold them in our consciousness and think about them. Some of the information about interpreting dreams I learned from him and from his mentor, Robert Johnson PhD.

There are four people in my fly dream. This is a good thing. Four is a number of completion, of arrival, of numinous knowledge.

The people all represent aspects of myself. My daughter/cat represents an aspect of myself. I told a friend the story of “The cat who walks by himself”, because he doesn’t read fiction. Or says he doesn’t. I have a hard time imagining not reading fiction, just as I never quite believe people who say they don’t like poetry. I think they are afraid of it.

The two males I am taking as aspects of my animus. My male energy. My male energy is healthy, which is very different from a dream that I had ten years ago. In that dream one male was a crazy cardiac surgeon who was doing a heart transplant in the middle of a garden party. The other male was the patient, whose heart was broken and needed to be replaced. In the fly dream, both males are healthy and bright. The adult male still has the capacity to not be grounded and to be disconnected from the ground, but he is willing to set the house down and explore locally, once he’s done showing off his power.

The children in my dreams were initially monsters. Baby monsters. Then my dreams had a baby girl and then a girl child. A recent dream had a two year old male, healthy. This dream is my first with a healthy teen male.

I think that this is a reassuring progression.

And still, I hold the dream present, a snapshot of my interior psyche. It may have more to tell me.