Washing The Fear Away

I laid down to dream with a firm goal. There was a place I wanted to see, a dream denizen I wanted to talk to. The migraine had lifted, and the summer cold it was segueing into was more an annoyance than a hindrance. I set my mental rudder, closed my eyes, and set forth.

I had his physical anchor in hand, a peculiar stone that felt as if he had chiseled it to just the right size to fit in my hand. Of all the mental routes to go from my Waking world to his place in the Dreaming, I chose the longer and safer route. Start Here, then go to the Tree. From there, the stone can be used to whisk me to a room that the svartalf had made for me.

Awake gave way to hypnogogia. I held on to my awareness, leaving the body to sink deeper into sleep. Hypnogogia gave way to lucid dreaming. The subtle shifts in environmental sounds and smells told me I was fully asleep, and fully awake. Very well then, time to set off.

I opened my eyes to find I was still in my room. Standing beside my bed, the stone gripped tightly in my hand. Eh? Did I sleepwalk? Haven’t done that for decades. Oh well, I’ll just turn around and go back to bed.

Or I would.

If my bed wasn’t already occupied.

By me.

I’ve been told I look “cute” when sleeping. I now have first hand proof that I do not.

I lifted the covers off my body, just to see what would happen. I felt a chill and a sense of “breeziness”, but I was not shaken from the dream. I saw the fullness of my body, laying under the sheet. I always find it so fascinating to see myself asleep. Curiosity sated, I tucked myself back into the bed, chuckled, and released myself from the scene.

Remembering the dance-jump of the Embroidered Man, when he took me from one scene to another, I closed my eyes and took a step backwards, then a step to the side. A step forward, followed immediately by a small jump. I should have gone to the Tree.

Instead, I found myself in mid-flight, floating between all the worlds, and suddenly assaulted. “There, you are! I would have a word with you!” The strange shadow of a man reached for me, knocking me from my flightpath into a dizzying downward spin. The shadowed man reached for me again, but I recovered from the spin and straightened out. I called the feathered cloak to myself and was wrapped in black wings. Slowly and silently, I sought to increase my altitude, to hide in the darkness of what was above.

I watched the shadowed man look about, trying to search for me. I sensed no hostility from him, just an urgency to speak to me. I made a note to privately query an associate, that this shadowed man reminded me of, in the morning and started to actively travel to the world I first intended to.

“Gotcha!” His hand grabbed my ankle. At his touch, my suspicion was confirmed. I know who this represented. I was not angered by his intrusion, just wary. “Listen! I need to talk to you!”

“I will talk to you, in the morning and in the Waking! But not here. Release me, I do not wish to harm you.” The shadowed man was completely without substance. I wondered how was it he was able to hold me so tightly.

“No, you must come with me! You are covered in filth and must be cleansed.” Recently, cleanliness had been a big topic of discussion with some online associates, and I was worried it would spill over into my dreams. Apparently, it did.

He was trying to drag me in a different direction, but my cloak wings kept me at a standstill. I could have wrenched myself from his grip, but doing so would harm him, and I wasn’t sure if the shadow I saw before me was a product of my fears, or actually connected to the person I know in the Waking. “What kind of filth so you see, and how do you intend to cleanse me?”

He stopped pulling and faced me squarely. “You know how! You told it already! You must do this to yourself, but I will help.” He still held on to my ankle with that strange iron grip.

I was starting to get annoyed with the entire incident. “I do not think you understand. That manner only worked for that woman, because of her faith. I do not follow Jehovah, in any of his forms. This would be a waste of time and materials.”

The shadowed man started insisting that I was wrong. It didn’t matter, he said. My true path had been revealed and he was going to make sure I followed it. My heart sank at his insistence. How many times have I encountered this sentiment in the Waking? Too many! My chameleon nature made sure I could superficially fit in with any group. However, that meant I would appear to fit in so well, those within the group would take steps to make sure I never left!

I started to argue with the shadowed man. I noted that he continued to pull and I had started to lose ground. I panicked and started thrashing against his grip. Which, of course, made me lose more ground, increasing my panic. While the role he had thought for me was admirable, it meant placing myself in a situation that terrified me utterly.

Suddenly, I start to tumble backwards. My ankle is free. I look around, and see a form made of darkness floating in the gap between me and the shadowed man. I knew at once who it was. “Don’t you have someplace to be?” I nodded. “Then why are you still here?” I started to stammer an answer when the shadowed man recovered from his loss and launched himself at me again.

I ducked the attack and folded myself into my cloak wings. The Darkness nudged against me, chuckling. “When are you going to grow up and deal with your fear like you said?” The Darkness placed itself between me and the shadowed man, hiding me from sight. I took occasion of the cover to prepare to launch myself to the Tree, where I would be safe from the shadowed man.

But the moment I set forward to jump between worlds, the shadowed man grabbed my hand. Somehow, he had seen where I was. And again, somehow, the ephemeral man was able to hold on to me. This time, I did not spare him. I wrenched myself free of his grip, and hid in the shadows of the cloak wings until I had placed enough distance between me and the shadowed man. The Darkness only watched. As long as I hid in the cloak, the shadowed man could not see me. The moment I unfurled the cloak to jump, the shadowed man was on me in an instant.

Most of the time, I was able to free myself from the shadowed man’s grip. The few times, I was unable, the Darkness would intervene to free me. But that was all it did. Frustrated, I realized I would not be able to travel to the Tree this night. Not until I could determine what was on me that allowed the shadowed man to get such a firm grip.

Reluctantly, I returned to my room. Perhaps the illness of the previous two days had worked its way through my gastrointestinal tract, as the first thing I noted in my room was a horrid stench. I smelled at the covers, and noted my bed, and my body under it, was odor free. The smell was coming from my dream body.

Time to see how much of my house was in my dream. I entered the hall, and from there, the bathroom. I was hard pressed to see the minute detail of oddities that betrayed this was still all just a dream.

As I walked through the house, the odor followed me. I wondered if it was a result of the fighting with the shadowed man. I checked my ankle and wrist where I had been grabbed, and noted a thin icky film of something dark. It was sticky and stinky. Ugh, please, don’t tell me I’m covered with…

sniff, sniff…

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I’m covered with shit! Dream or not, I’m taking a shower NOW!” My yelling addressed to no one in particular, I watch the walls visibly tremble at my outburst. I stomp to the linen closet and fetch cloth and towel, stomp to my room and fetch my robe. I allow myself the humor of noting I tiptoed in my dream-room, so not to wake the dreamer in my bed. Before leaving my room, I drape the cloak over the dreamer. I watch it tuck itself around her, and chuckle.

Into the bathroom. Off goes the clothes. Wide open runs the shower. Warm water. Ahh. As I furiously scrub, I do indeed note that I had been covered head to toe in a very thin layer of fecal matter. The more I scrub, the more appears, as if it was being exuded through my pores.

I do not take this information well. Again, the walls tremble from the viciousness of my undirected words.

I start talking to myself, trying to keep from losing control of the dream, more than I already have. “Alright, Keri. THINK. You know you’re dreaming. You do not, in fact, sweat unrefined fecal matter from your pores. This is a symbol of a symbol.” The water braided itself as it emerged from the showerhead and started wiping down my body as I stood in the stall, pondering the situation. I thanked the water for trying to clean me even as I sweat more of the putrid stuff.

“The shadowed man was only able to grip me, because he was holding on to this… shit… that covers me. I didn’t start the dream with this development, but as a result of his grip, I now do. I panicked because I was afraid.” The water split into several smaller braids and continued wiping off the putrescence. “I was afraid of encountering certain situations again.” The mere thought of those situations made me start sweating more. The moving water was having a hard time keeping up with the sudden effluence. As I opened the water valve to full, I realized the effluence was connected with my fear somehow.

Recalling conversations I had during the Waking, I had referred to those situations, hypothetical as they are, as “shit I have to deal with”. Oh. Now I understood. As long as I allowed those hypothetical situations to instill fear in me, I’ll be allowing others to have a firm grip on my life, and my decisions. Only by releasing the fear, will I be free.

I was experiencing a visually and odorously complete metaphor.

I made the decision to not wallow in that fear any longer. I had already encountered two of the fearful events, and emerged from both a clear victor. I had already demonstrated I wasn’t the easily controlled servant anymore. To continue to hold on to a baseless fear would only handicap me.

I turned to the water, asked forgiveness for my wasteful use, and asked it to help clean me of the filth coming from my pores, and of the fear I needed to release. The water lifted off of me, changed in nature in such a subtle way, and began to collect in a large pool over my head.

Standing in a pose of submission, I smiled when the first droplet hit my forehead. I knew what was coming, and made a conscious effort not to resist. The droplet was followed by a pressure, as the pool of floating water gently touched me. Then forced itself into my body, piercing the flesh with ease.

The water flooded my flesh, and my soul, pouring through every artery and vein, piercing every cell. Taking advantage of gravity, the fluid flowed through my neck into the torso, then into the arms. Down into my hands, where it streamed from the thousands of pores and sweat glands. Through my torso, down into my legs, into my feet, where it also streamed from the pores and sweat glands of my feet.

The water flowed through me, and as it did, cleansed me. The runoff was foul, thick, and brown at first. But as I committed to releasing my fear, it began to run clear and odorless. I lost myself to the sensation, feeling at one with the water, feeling like I was just another riverbed.

My cleansing complete, the water ceased the unchecked invasion of my body. It returned to the normal flow of several dozen small streams emerging from the showerhead. As I turned off the shower, and emerged from the stall, I felt a sense of deep relief.

I knew I would not have time to complete my task this night. But I knew when next I tried, I would not be burdened by this fear again.

I also held no ill will to the shadowed man. I understand now, that he saw the manifestation of my fear, and knew I had to be purged of it. But I had to do it my way, not his.

I went back to the bedroom, where the feathered cloak gently held the sleeping dreamer. I pulled gently at the cloak but it would not release my sleeping body.

It was just as well. The alarm clock would be going off soon. I probably should get some deep sleep while I can. I released my control over the dream, and dissolved into deeper, dreamless sleep.

Make of that, what you may.