“Ay Amor Divino, pronto tienes que volver, a mi…” My mom’s voice consumes the hallway with the singing she starts her Sundays morning with. That long text message that makes everything better. The email that congratulates you to a new opportunity. The big sign that says “Congratulations Class of 2016” that I see in my near future. The pages of the books that make me feel the words left unspoken. Words, my sanity. The visual, told, scripted, rawest emotions felt, captured and kept. Words, the portal of my pleasure and pain. Words, the distinct selection to capture the moment. Words, the driving force of time travel. Words, the influencer, the teacher, wisdom, truth, words… My sanity, my truth, my story.
Reoccurring dreams are the dreams I write down, and pay particular attention to. Creepy dreams, although bone chilling have always held a particular fascination. The historian in me awakens. It’s a research paper. Following the research, I do matching and analyzing. I look to explain the surroundings and apply it to what is actually happening. I take notes with citations, then finally… words.
For the past three mornings, I have found myself waking up to “Desperate Housewives.” Meaning I have no recollection of when I am falling asleep. I wake up way before my alarm freaking out, then, writing things down about this horrible dream I keep having. I am laying on my back with my Harry Potter book in hand, doing light reading. Suddenly my bed becomes this grassland, and this one long snake starts wrapping itself around me starting from feet and when it gets to my shoulders it stops and starts looking at me. Bone chilling, unblinking eyes, cold almost, hissing with this hooded skin. I can’t scream, I can’t move, because if I even thought of moving it would constrict me. It just keeps looking at me, and then it came close to my neck, and I wake up jumping out of my sleep, to Desperate Housewives playing.
After much research: Fun fact, King Cobras are the most aggressive snakes in the world. Once threatened the king will not back down! A drop of the king’s venom can kill a grown elephant and 10-15 humans. King Cobras are terrifying, point blank, end of discussion and if I ever got up and close with one I would be dead. Now, why didn’t I die? These facts all lead to my death.
The history lesson definitely helped more than the scientific lesson, that’s for sure. When a snake appears into your life and particularly in your dreams, it means opportunities, change, important transitions and increased energy are manifesting. They represent much needed spiritual healing, with the snake serving as spiritual guidance. Freud said to dream of a snake was to dream of yourself, and if it turns and bites you it’s supposed to be good, a form of self revelation. To Native Americans, a symbol of transformation and healing. Shedding of skin links life, death and rebirth. Before the cobra specifically sheds its skin, the eyes will begin to cloud making it look like its in a trance. This trance is the way it travels from the living to the dead, and upon its “return” its eyes will return to original form, and the shedding of skin begins happening. The shedding is a long procedure, once complete resulting in new life.
With an attempt to fathom the idea of this snake, I am left with questioning what is it that I can unconsciously understand that I need to let go of, but in my waking life I feel conflicted or trapped? The snake trapped me, so what is it? Mesmerizing eyes seducing my heart and soul, directly looking into me as an indication that I need to look more closely at what my heart desires and what makes me strong. The pages of my journal being my trusted companion, words will document my journey.