Dream: It’s night time at a fire circle where a woman is being inititated. I’m in the center of the circle with her. My late esteemed and beloved professor, Dr. H, is officiating. I lower myself to the ground in prostrate position and scrub my face with the soil. Nearby is a bucket of water—I pour it entirely over my head. A large circle of shadowed Black figures hold hands and circle around me in counter-clockwise motion. Two muscular men wearing bright spandex body suits leap synchronistically across the circle, pausing in mid-air each with each leap. Electrical sparks discharge from their leaps. Suddenly I’m running—I don’t remember where or why—and Dr. H says, “Cheptu, take care of Your Son.”
In my dream I am tricked into believing that the initiation is for someone else, but the dream overwrites my psyche, and I become the one being initiated. This is how I have lived most of my life: gifted with talent, intelligence and charisma in a circle of heartfelt karmic support, yet somehow missing that the party is for me. Trauma and shame supplanted my natural sparkle and the desires of my heart. I settled for a life that was “safe,” but lacking passion. In my dream, Dr. H stands in the role of the Animus, the male aspect of the Divine; and the son for whom he is concerned is my Soul Boy – the “I Am That I Am” – in all his libido, passion, creativity and power embodied by the leaping men.
In the circle I am exfoliating old, dead skin and being initiated into a new life as the Girl with the freedom of her innocence and the power of her vulnerability. However, in the circle I can also feel the tension between Divine “sparkiness” and my fear . . . yes, it’s a lot to take in.
Dream: I’m teaching music to a class of unruly children who refuse to follow my directions. I am utterly frustrated—my voice hurting from over-talking, yelling, cajoling, defending. I’m tired of the struggle. I’m losing control.
My Soul Boy rebels against being silenced, managed and controlled. I am a great teacher, but in my heart I wanted to be the one on stage performing in music and drama. I regret how I “unlived” much of my life hiding behind “the teacher,” one of the ways I managed my Boy. I regret what I lost by organizing my circumstances and relationships so that I could never feel or be perceived as powerless or vulnerable. I was outwardly competent with intolerance for the unknown realm of feelings—I’d run away, first. I regret the walls I put up to keep from being truly known, even seen. I’m thankful for the gift of having grown tired of it.
Dream: I’m with a man on a long-awaited date to the Opera. I’m feeling very comfortable and enjoying his company. Suddenly he’s yelling expletives about a mother who “beat the crap out of [him] as a child.”
The Animus voices the rage of my Soul Child who knows the truth of abuse and trauma. He curses the Dark Mother energy who took rampage through my psyche, colonized my soul and squelched the opportunities when real joy came into my life. No wonder it was difficult to maintain focus on my passion, because in order to have my passion I would have to deal with scary emotions . . . easier to keep it all stuffed down . . . manage and control the children. Never sweat. Be ever-vigilant so no one can see my wounds. The Animus wants me to move on with my life. He shows me that expelling the rage releases the libido.
Through Archetypal Dreamwork I have made alchemical descents through several layers of trauma with the loving support and presence of the Archetypes. With each new round I experience the kundalini release of once frozen libidinal places and I get to reclaim more of my Soul Boy.
Dream: I’m with my students at a library. A woman takes me to another facility that houses an Occupational Therapy Department and a large theatrical space. We pass by a strikingly beautiful young woman whose blue-black skin is dusted with gold powder that makes her gleam. She’s draped in translucent gold lamé fabric; her breasts fully exposed.
The Anima is the female aspect of the Divine. She heals shame. In my dream she redirects me to the “healing theatre” so that I may see what’s possible—the transcendent woman in me, radiant in her sensuality and wholeness. Fully exposed and she has no shame. Truly, the past is the past.
Dream: I’m outdoors in an ancestral village sitting next to a Pygmy woman. Something about her draws me— something about her that I understand—maybe her pain. The woman raises her arm towards me, exposing the razor she’s carrying. I grab and immobilize her hand until she drops the blade.
The Pygmy woman provokes me to come to her. She teaches me that my heart can know her pain because I can now feel my own pain. She holds the story of her tribe—the glory, the suffering and holocaustic loss. People “cut” when they have unacknowledged pain, however it’s only when we have opened ourselves to our own deepest pain that we can sit with others in their deepest wounding and not run away. Extraordinary things happen when we heal from our pain . . . I am becoming the Warrior Woman, the Tribal Healer.
Dream Reprise: . . . . and Dr. H says, “Cheptu, take care of Your Son.”
I get to have it all: Divine empowerment, love and support; my Soul Boy energy that’s pure and alive; the Soul Girl who knows her desire and longing, and can be in intimate relationship with God; the Warrior Woman; the support of the Archetypes and my Ancestors. There are times that my trauma gets re-triggered, and each time it’s easier to discern that which is dust from the past that I need not react to, project, or internalize. Each day I dance more freely with the Divine and step further into my new life as a “Soul Theatre” Healer, Vocalist and Songwriter . . . in my new skin.
“OPEN MY HEART”
Open my heart to see all your beauty
Open my heart to your power within me
Where’er I go
You know who I am
All the world and heaven await me
If I can stay in my vulnerability
Be with me forevermore and a day
Help me to stay
Help me to stay
Open my heart
Help me stay
Open my heart
Help me to stay
Help me to stay.
©Grace Cheptu, 2012. All rights reserved.