Dream Weavers
Whispers of Dreamland
I’ve never been much of a dream journal keeper although it’s a great practice.
Fortunately, I enjoy peaceful rest, sleeping deeply and yes, dreaming. Lately, as I drift toward Dreamtime and reflect with gratitude on the people, experiences, and blessings in my life, I’ve begun asking my guides to reveal more details of my nighttime adventures in ‘Dreamland’.
Recently, I had a dream where someone or something was trimming golden hairs with a tiny purple scissors in my left ear.
“Hmmm… how odd,” I thought. “What could this mean?”
So, like I often do when no guidance comes surging forward, I paused. “Practice what you preach”, I thought. “Remember to breathe. Suspend this sacred breath at the top of the breath and drop into your open heart to listen.”
Luckily, floating in the silence, in the temple of the open heart, there wasn’t a lot of noise yet no signal presented itself. And so I asked again, “What does this mean? Is there a message for me here?”
I duly noted the significance that the left side of the physical body is traditionally associated with the feminine. There was no physical hand or being holding those tiny violet scissors, yet there was a inkling of anticipation that something sacred was going on.
Vivid memories surfaced of myself as a little girl, sitting on the floor of my big sister’s closet—door closed, surrounded by darkness—poking at that same left ear because it itched. During that period of my life, as a little girl, I used to see people’s spirits hanging in the clothes of my own closet. I remember it frightened me a little, so perhaps, my sister’s closet felt safer even though it was dark and the only thing I saw hanging were clothes not spirits.
Another poignant dream memory surfaced, this one having occurred at about age 16. I was still living at home with my parents. I woke up, washed my face, and gazed at my blurry reflection in the mirror. That night I’d had a brilliant dream. I had ridden on a beam of light and was taken off-world.
I remember gazing through a portal window—the blue-green Earth far away. Tiny colored orbs of light were blinking all around me. We were in deep conversation although no words were spoken. They told me that I’d been there many times before and now that I had reached the seventh level I would remember.
Next thing, I was whisked away on a brilliant beam of light back to the Earth—back to my bed, back to my childhood home. I didn’t think much of it until I walked into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. My mother asked, “What is that all over your face?” “I don’t know,” I replied. My mom did that thing that makes kids cringe—she spit on her finger and tried to rub it away but there was no removing it. Perplexed she said, “It won’t come off. Go look in the mirror.“
The reflection staring back at me was like a sunburst, a star-shaped sunburn, as if a radiant beam of light had burned my face. The red sunburn remained there for a few days. Although it eventually faded away, the memory of traveling on that beam of light has never faded.
So let’s get back to the tiny scissors and golden hairs. I decided to ask ChatGPT for ideas on the symbolism of this most recent dream. I was resistant to AI and ChatGPT at first however, as I explore it more and more, it’s been quite interesting and illuminating with it’s responses to my queries. Chat’s response was again illuminating, “Gold in dreams often represents spiritual insight, wisdom, and value - the kind of “treasure” that can’t be taken away.”
Pondering the tiny scissors prompted me to recall that hair, in many indigenous cultures, is like an electrical conduit, antennae, linking us to the ‘All that is’.
Chat continued, “Golden hair in the ear suggests hearing precious truths or receiving divine messages that are pure and elevated. The left ear specifically relates to listening to your inner guidance, whispers from the soul, and ancestral voices.”
BINGO!!!
Is it possible that the signal I was not hearing while awake and alert was the very one being broadcast loudly and clearly in my dreams?
As a Sound Healer, is it possible this was a message from the unseen and unheard to have patience, and to allow my higher self to attune as I sleep?
I’ve always believed this world was ‘Sung’ into existence. Perhaps those songs are the signals being sung in my Dreamtime ear.
Ask yourself, your guides, and whoever helps you tune into the vast gentleness of a Mother’s touch and an Elder’s wisdom, ‘Is there a message for me?”
Practice patience. Simply listen. And if you like, journal your dreams for greater understanding and deeper clarity.
So this morning, in the ambrosial hours, when I was tuning into my embodied poetry, Golden Eagle feathers were present, a spirit guide to speak to me of this new earth we are creating together.
What are your dreams made of?
Float in the bubble of infinite possibility to dream and Be.
And always remember… I love you so much.
—Pamela
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