Power Dreams

Jan 30, 2018 by

Last night, I had one of those Power Dreams that often come to me in moments of deep transformation or crisis. In the dream, I was a battered old corpse swinging from a gibbet. Even though I was clearly dead, I wasn’t that upset about it. It was a nice simple feeling to be a light bag of bones, swinging gently in the wind, without much substance. But my SELF, my consciousness, was still there behind my eyes, observing the scene.


Even though I was mostly bones, three crows where hanging with me, chattering to each other and pecking at some of the leftover bits.


“Look over there, down by my ankle! There’s a juicy bit left. Better get it!” I said, eager that should finish the job completely. They complied with eagerness, irony and good humor- that being the nature of crows.


Soon there was nothing left all but bare bones and a pleasurable feeling of relief at the emptiness.


Any shaman or alchemist would recognize this dream as a dissolution vision. We are born, we grow, then we decay and die. It is the sacred way of things. Dissolution is an important part of the transformational process and it gets a bad rap- because well, yikes.


But I was totally into it. Sometimes it feels good to be dissolved in the belly of the beast with nothing left but the bare bones. When I woke, I felt empowered and empty. Those bones were what was left of the True Me, the Now Me.


This is the shamanic death, the death of the ego- the small self. One must die to be born again in a new form. I appreciated and trusted the presence of the crows, they were good company. Of course, they are carrion eaters, a group of spirit animals that are by their very nature, instruments of transformation. (Roadkill into crow food, for example…) But they are also harbingers of magic, destiny and the keepers of karmic law.


I always pay attention to them when they show up and for me, always in threes and then I know something is about to happen. Something big. Crows have the ability to cross dimensions and often bring wisdom with them, and a reminder that we are all bound by the laws of the Universe.


I know which part of me is dying, the aspect of self that I am letting go of. It’s a painful and sacred process, but I honor it and surrender to it with as much grace as I can muster.


And I also knew it was time for a new tattoo. For me, tattoos are external markers of inner initiations. It’s so weird to me when something profound happens on the inside but nothing changes on the outer shell and skin of you. Tattoos mark those changes for me and receiving one is an initiatory experience in itself. All those lovely pain receptors fire all at once, the pain of change, and dump boat loads of endorphins in your system. And you end up with the outer mark of the inner change.


Time to honor death of the self and the decay part of the alchemist’s cycle.


Time to honor the Crows for their wisdom and support of the process.


Time to curl inwards and let the transformation happen with has much faith and compassion for myself as I can find.


And when I come out the other side, time to call my tattoo artist to mark the passing of the old me.

Power dream

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