On Releasing the Past

"‘Well, this is as far as I go’, he declares. Looking pensive he adds, ‘I’ve been accused of holding you back. So, now it’s up to you!’ I remember all the arguments and fights we used to have whenever I tried to follow either an artistic or academic course, and realise that this is his awkward way of saying ‘Go with my blessing’."
Lee

"I believe I was given the chance to fulfil my vow made when I was an inmate."
Wraith

"This dream was the turning point. I interpreted it as meaning that my father had instilled so much fear in me as a child that I was still letting this control my life as an adult..... It was time for me to take control of my destiny. I acted on the dream immediately and my life path has been straight and onward forward since."
Michaela

One of the most powerful ways of accelerating positive change in your life is to release yourself from the effects of negativity from your past. We are frequently our own worst enemies, shackling ourselves, hands and feet, with regrets about the past, feelings of guilt, unresolved conflicts from old and current relationships, outdated expectations and inappropriate programming stemming back to our earlier years. Resolving unfinished business or making amends with the past is ideal, but the ability to free ourselves from our burdens, to simply put down the old baggage and walk away when no other approach is possible, can work miracles. Releasing the past opens up the future, with barely a bead of sweat required to walk the new road.

Dreams which give us the tools to let go of the past, if acted upon, have huge life-changing potential. Eight of the survey dreamers contributed dreams with strong past-releasing aspects: Calli, Barney, Michaela, Phillipa, Moni, Andy, Cheryl and Grace.

River 10
Calli
The Scarecrow 1989
(a recurring dream)

~~~~~~dream~~~~~~

The scarecrow would come and sit on the end of my bed to protect me from dreams of the past which I didn’t want to look at.

~~~~~~

 The Game of Illusion 1990

~~~~~~dream~~~~~~

I dreamt my husband and I were picnicking. We were sitting on a rug with food in front of us. I knew it was in the countryside, but when I looked around we were on a snakes and ladders board. The roads were the ladders, the rivers were the snakes and the trees were made of cardboard. I was looking at this scene when a hand appeared, pointing to the sky, and a voice said ‘You have to move near that man over there’. I turned and looked over my shoulder and there was this large man with a big head sitting cross-legged. I said, ‘No I don’t know him. I don’t want to move!’ And the voice said ‘It’s important that you move near the man over there’.

~~~~~~

Calli welcomed the scarecrow who repeatedly sat on the end of her bed in her dreams, protecting her from dreaming about her past. She knew issues needed clearing but had felt that she would not be able to devote the necessary time and emotional energy until her children had grown up and left home. That time was drawing near, and the scarecrow’s days were numbered, when Calli’s husband’s mother was dying. Calli had never had a chance to say goodbye to her own mother, who had died when she was five, and her mother-in-law’s illness brought this sadness clearly into focus. During a consultation with a visiting psychic, Calli was advised ‘Go home and write a letter to your mother and your father, as you would as a child’.

It was in writing these letters that Calli realised how deeply her past had affected her, and she decided to examine her fears through a series of paintings which she began the next day. In doing this, she suddenly made the connection with the scarecrow dream: these were the fears her scarecrow had kept at bay, until now. Now it was time to face the past and clear it.

I was five when my Mum died of complications after an appendicitis operation. The family never acknowledged to me that Mum had died. I knew she was dead the next day, because I can remember being in the park with my sister and it must have been very early in the day, early in the English summer, and these workmen said to my sister ‘Why are you up so early?’ and she said ‘Well, my mother died’. And I looked up at her and I said 'What?..' And she said ‘Oh, the rabbit died’. And I’m standing there looking and thinking ‘We haven’t got a rabbit’. But other than that it wasn’t mentioned, ever.

I was never allowed to grieve for my mother because my Dad remarried very quickly, six months later. My mother was never mentioned and we had no photos of her.

The Letters: 1989

Monday

Dear Mammy,

I am writing this to ask why you went away when I needed you very much. Daddy said you were coming home on Thursday and you’d be here for my birthday party. But you went away and I didn’t see you again and they said I could go and see you that day and wave to you through the window. Nobody would tell me where you had gone. Nobody wanted to talk to me. I felt very frightened and nobody knew how I felt. They thought I was too small. They all thought Ann was old enough to know. Nobody would talk to me. I wanted to come and sing hymns for you but they wouldn’t let me.

I never knew where you went. It was like a big hole came and swallowed you up and I was frightened all the time Daddy would go through the same hole. I could not understand why you could not hear me when I called for you. If you went to Jesus like they said, why wouldn’t he let you hear me and then he would have let you come back after the rest you needed. I didn’t like our house any more. When Mrs Moody came things were awful and I wanted to run away to Nanna’s. Daddy said I couldn’t go, and got upset, so I didn’t say any more. I felt very angry that nobody cared.

Then Mummy arrived, big fires but no warmth. I needed you and you left me. I can now see you had to go and I accept that you loved me and I love you and although you have gone you have a place in my heart which is always there. I accept your departure and the love you still have for me which will go on forever. I know I will see you again and it will be as though you never left.

I love you very much and take you back into my heart as my own dear Mother. Until we meet again.

I am always your loving daughter,

Calli

Monday

Dear Dad,

This is to clear away the misunderstanding which seemed to happen when I was twelve. I still don’t know why I changed in your eyes. I was still the same even if my body grew up. I was still your little girl inside. You never left into the big black hole, but you did take your love away and it made a big black hole for me. I was made to feel bad when I knew I was good. I could not understand how you could change so much towards me. One day I was your little girl, the next day I was someone to shout at and chastise for everything I did and didn’t do.

I think a lot of things were planted in your head by Mum and you could never feel the same again. I know how, although you are trapped within your empty shell, you now know the truth about yourself and me. It’s too late to say anything but I am safe in the knowledge that you know and are at peace with yourself and your world. I never stopped loving you although I felt so hurt for so long.

That has healed now. We are joined as we were father and daughter who were very close. I love you and know you love me. All past differences are forgotten. We are as we always were. I wait to see you again with Mammy safe in the knowledge that your love had never changed.

I will see you again, back to my Dad, and I will tell you these things.

I am your loving daughter

Calli

(These two letters have had a wider circle of influence, since they have been used in palliative care lectures since 1989).

The Painting: 1989

I didn’t think about what I was drawing, just as I didn’t think about what I wrote in the letters. I just wrote and then I read it afterwards. I drew all these peculiar things that were saying goodbye to myself as a child, saying goodbye to Mum through a hospital window, being blown off the edge of a cliff, falling, all these things that frightened me. Then I tore them all up and made a collage of it and stuck the scarecrow on top. I deliberately put the scarecrow on top. That put an end to the scarecrow dreams and put to rest a lot of the things I was frightened of, but I didn’t grieve properly until I moved to New South Wales and went to a counsellor there.

Calli’s understanding of her recurring scarecrow dream deepened when a Flying Arts tutor came up to northern Queensland, when she had virtually finished the painting.

The Flying Arts were run by the Queensland Art Gallery who sent tutors to people who were classed as ‘bush people’. They used to come up by plane and do three-day courses. My tutor asked if I realised that the scarecrow was the sign of the cross. I hadn’t even thought of that. I went home and thought well, maybe I am being protected, because before that I wasn’t ready to look at the dreams. The scarecrow was telling me he had protected me but now that my family had grown up it was time to start putting my own past to right. I couldn’t have done it while the children were growing up. With four children I didn’t have enough stamina. My only regrets now, looking back, are that I received no help with my grieving, psychologically or emotionally, between the ages of fourteen and seventeen. I got married at eighteen and had my first child by nineteen.

Calli’s painting, ‘The Scarecrow’, was subsequently exhibited at the Queensland Art Gallery. While understanding and acting on the scarecrow recurring dreams brought Calli face to face with some of her deepest fears, it took a move to New South Wales and a further change in lifestyle before the grieving process for her mother was finally completed. This change was heralded by ‘The Game of Illusion’ dream.

Calli created a painting from ‘The Game of Illusion’, clearly capturing the light around the oversized, cross-legged man. Everything in the dream and in her painting pointed towards a move, but Calli initially held back. She had become involved with the local community and was secretary of the Artist’s Club. She was happy with her art and painting, and although her husband had itchy feet and was eyeing up new job opportunities further afield, Calli kept reiterating ‘I’m not moving. I’ve had enough this time’. Shortly after she finished her painting, he returned from a job interview in New South Wales and reported ‘You’re never going to believe it, but the bloke that interviewed me is exactly like the man in your painting’. Was this just a good ploy, or an indication that the job should be accepted?

What struck Calli most about ‘The Game of Illusion’ dream was the hand in the sky, the voice and the glowing quality around the man.

I live with voices, they tell me all sorts of things. This was a very strong voice, commanding. We moved to New South Wales in December 1990 and I have no regrets. It was the best thing I ever did in my life, because it was through moving that I finally put my childhood to rest. 

After the move, a severe bout of neck ache led to a meeting with an osteopath, then a counsellor who was able to lead her through the grieving process for her mother: the final but necessary last step in her transformation. Calli completed the process through starting a painting of her symbolic rebirth.

The painting has been left half finished, perhaps because Calli no longer has the need to express anything further on the subject. Through her move interstate she has met with many like-minded people and has been able to catch up with things she had always wanted to do. Calli now works as a clown at the Burns Clinic and the Cancer Clinic of a large hospital, entertaining children while they have their chemotherapy or their burns dressings changed.

I have a feeling I probably would have ended up with cancer myself if I hadn’t gone back (to reconcile my past), because it was just eating me away. My health now is probably better than it’s ever been.

So what was ‘The Game of Illusion’? Was the dream scenery just a highly dramatic vehicle for the commanding voice and the directive to move south, to where the light is, or did it have a meaning of its own? 

At the time I took the rivers to be emotions, but I didn’t look any deeper. Perhaps I played games like ‘I’m not moving’, but I suppose we all play games.

The photo of Calli’s painting had been out of sight for years until it was recently unpacked.

If I look at the painting now I can stand back and realise that life is a game, an illusion. Dice throws in any boardgame appear as chance happenings in life which take us up or down the snakes and ladders. Life is a really a game, and if you can step back and see the whole board, you see life just takes us from the beginning to the end: and it’s just a game.

Jane’s Interpretation

When Calli looked afresh at her dream painting it seemed to speak to her more clearly. Years had passed, Calli had settled various issues in her life and gained increased wisdom as a result. At times of crisis our emotions can cloud our perception, but from a distance, free from the emotional constraints of the time, we calmly see the big picture. Things fall into place. Calli understood enough of her dream at the time to follow its advice on a personal level, but it was only in hindsight that she saw the overall magnitude of the message she had been given.

Enormous insight can be gained by keeping a Dream Journal and reviewing it every six weeks or so. Simply reading through six weeks of dreams in one sitting will reveal a ‘big picture’ that may not have been obvious on a day-by-day level. With a degree of objectivity you can look back on the recent past in this way and see patterns in your dreams, your unconscious, your life. Flicking through your Dream Journal a year or so later, lingering over the vivid dreams, jotting down the odd insight, generating the ‘big picture’ of ‘back then’ is a powerful technique guaranteed to sharpen your perspective and show you how you have arrived at where you are today. You can capture your review in art: a painting, drawing or poem, perhaps. Collage works well in dream work and is an attractive technique for those who feel fumbly with paint or ink. Cut out and collect images that have appeared in your dreams, then arrange and glue them onto a poster in whatever way feels right to you. When you stand back to view your collage, the ‘big picture’ will emerge. As Calli’s story tells us, creating a dream painting or collage has the power to heal and change your life.

Interpreting Calli’s dream as an outsider, I would agree that the dream revealed ‘the game of life’. Team game dreams often provide insight into the value of working as a team member, or taking on the role of leadership working towards goals and so on. Competitive sport dreams may reveal our competitive nature, while dreams of endurance sport (marathon running, for example) may reflect our approach to ‘sticking in there’, to winning, to choosing the hard road or to achieving personal goals. Dreams as individual performance (dance, gymnastics, pole vault perhaps) may relate to public recognition, to individuality and much more. Life is very much an intense game as we become enveloped in the seriousness of competition, goal scoring, defensiveness, inter-relationship tackles or plans, puzzle solving and generally negotiating life’s maze in our quest to find Centre. While ‘game dreams’ can give excellent practical advice about handling business, study or relationships on a day-to-day level, the ‘big picture’ of life on earth as a complex game diffuses our seriousness and frees us to make more appropriate choices.

So much for the ‘big picture’ interpretation of Calli’s dream. On a day-to-day level I would focus on the fact that she perceived the rivers (emotions) as being the snakes (downs of life) and the roads (solid ground, direction) as being the ladders (the ups of life). In other words, she saw her emotions as dragging her backwards and her more conscious, rational self (grounded, directional, man-made) as taking her forward. The voice’s advice to ‘move near that man over there’ reinforces the dream’s suggestion that thought rather than feeling, at this stage in Calli’s life, would take her forward. Why?

There are three reasons. Firstly, the man had a big head (a focus on the brain: thought); secondly, the commanding voice was male (Yang, symbolic of rational thought); and thirdly, his voice came from the sky (air also represents thought). I would have asked Calli what ‘cross-legged’ meant to her, but I would guess this to be a symbol of meditation and the dissociation process. (Meditation permits us to stand aside from ourselves, to be temporarily divorced or disassociated from the ego, and to see ourselves and our world more objectively).

I would have advised Calli, on the basis of her dream, to consider whether her emotional reactions to her current situation were dragging her backwards, and to put more emphasis on clear thought, perhaps through dissociative meditation techniques. In moving interstate, she did finally put her past (and its dragging effect) behind her, so in many ways the dream advice was fulfilled.