Between
the end of Oct. 2010 and early December 2010 I got my latest
tattoo.
It was a 25 hour ordeal (two 9 hour sittings, a 5 hour sitting, and a final 2 hour 'touch-up' sitting).
All of my tattoos have deep and significant spiritual meanings and this large piece is no different. However, it was not a simple and easy tale to tell. After been asked by numerous people (especially those not local) I wrote and posted a blog. Primarily it tells of an ongoing battle against worry, anxiety, and Fear itself. (For those of you interested you can read it at Tattoo:Solace in Pain
It was very shortly after writing and posting this that I had this dream... although I'm not overly sure I could call it a dream. I wasn't really asleep, but in a very deep state of meditation...
I'm somewhat hesitant to share this one because there are SO MANY significant symbolisms (to me) that have developed over those 20 plus years; so many other dreams; so many fears and trials, I fear the full weight of this dream might be lost.
~ ~
I watch this dream from some sort of third party, disconnected, disembodied perspective.
Everything was so detailed, so real. It was (quite literally) like watching a movie in HD, 3-D, Technicolor.
From an aerial point of view I watch what I can only imagine was some sort of pilgrim walking.
He wore only a pair of white pants. No top, bare chested, and bare foot. He carried nothing with him. The only other article he possessed (or wore) was some sort of brown – or possibly red – sash around his waist. Possibly made of silk. The colour was difficult to determine because of an odd thick mist that swirled and danced about the landscape; dulling all colours; seemingly sucking the life out them.
He walked alone upon a built up path or road. This road stood about 2 to 3 feet above the grassy plains through which he traveled. The path entered – and continued to pass through – a large hedge-enclosed area. My guess was slightly smaller than a football field.
The sky was overcast and obscured due to this fog. The thick mist moved with an ever so light breeze. And on those rare occasions when this breeze became slightly stronger, the mist would take on the appearance of a hard wind driven blizzard-like snow... and then return to its twisting quiet mist... but some some strange reason it was never cold. Never cold like the hard tiny snow it appeared as.
As this pilgrim walked, my camera-angle (you will have to forgive me here because so movie-like in quality was this dream I am forced to describe it in likewise terms) rotated around him, and as I passed before him I saw his face, and it was me. And as the angle of view returned to his back, he stopped, and I saw what he saw.
I lone figure wading its way through the lowlands of the fields through the mist. Details were nearly impossible to descry, even from this short distance. But as the figure go closer it was obvious that it wore a robe with its head covered with a hood and cowl. It walked with what looking like a large cane or staff. The breeze that swirled the mist made its cowl flutter, but its face remained hidden in that gray misty shadows.
It was a 25 hour ordeal (two 9 hour sittings, a 5 hour sitting, and a final 2 hour 'touch-up' sitting).
All of my tattoos have deep and significant spiritual meanings and this large piece is no different. However, it was not a simple and easy tale to tell. After been asked by numerous people (especially those not local) I wrote and posted a blog. Primarily it tells of an ongoing battle against worry, anxiety, and Fear itself. (For those of you interested you can read it at Tattoo:Solace in Pain
It was very shortly after writing and posting this that I had this dream... although I'm not overly sure I could call it a dream. I wasn't really asleep, but in a very deep state of meditation...
I'm somewhat hesitant to share this one because there are SO MANY significant symbolisms (to me) that have developed over those 20 plus years; so many other dreams; so many fears and trials, I fear the full weight of this dream might be lost.
~ ~
I watch this dream from some sort of third party, disconnected, disembodied perspective.
Everything was so detailed, so real. It was (quite literally) like watching a movie in HD, 3-D, Technicolor.
From an aerial point of view I watch what I can only imagine was some sort of pilgrim walking.
He wore only a pair of white pants. No top, bare chested, and bare foot. He carried nothing with him. The only other article he possessed (or wore) was some sort of brown – or possibly red – sash around his waist. Possibly made of silk. The colour was difficult to determine because of an odd thick mist that swirled and danced about the landscape; dulling all colours; seemingly sucking the life out them.
He walked alone upon a built up path or road. This road stood about 2 to 3 feet above the grassy plains through which he traveled. The path entered – and continued to pass through – a large hedge-enclosed area. My guess was slightly smaller than a football field.
The sky was overcast and obscured due to this fog. The thick mist moved with an ever so light breeze. And on those rare occasions when this breeze became slightly stronger, the mist would take on the appearance of a hard wind driven blizzard-like snow... and then return to its twisting quiet mist... but some some strange reason it was never cold. Never cold like the hard tiny snow it appeared as.
As this pilgrim walked, my camera-angle (you will have to forgive me here because so movie-like in quality was this dream I am forced to describe it in likewise terms) rotated around him, and as I passed before him I saw his face, and it was me. And as the angle of view returned to his back, he stopped, and I saw what he saw.
I lone figure wading its way through the lowlands of the fields through the mist. Details were nearly impossible to descry, even from this short distance. But as the figure go closer it was obvious that it wore a robe with its head covered with a hood and cowl. It walked with what looking like a large cane or staff. The breeze that swirled the mist made its cowl flutter, but its face remained hidden in that gray misty shadows.
When
the figure was within 10 feet of the traveling pilgrim it twisted its
walking staff to a sight angle to reveal that it was a green stone
sword, its hilt hidden by the angle the robed figured held it at.
My blood ran cold as I recognized the weapon. It was the same sword from the 8th dream all those 21 years ago. And the details!! I could clearly see and trace the patterns that ran its length. I could see the pits and chips and cracks through the strange green stone...
...and as the robed figure raised its head, the breeze that caused the mist to eddy blew back his cowl and his face became visible, and his face was mine. It was my face, but as it smiled I realized it was as alien as could possibly be. Its eyes were empty as it smiled... and the breeze became slightly stronger and the flesh on his face lifted and flew in small circles in the wind – looking identical to dry dead autumn leaves caught in the wind, and his face with nothing more than a grimacing skull.
My blood ran cold as I recognized the weapon. It was the same sword from the 8th dream all those 21 years ago. And the details!! I could clearly see and trace the patterns that ran its length. I could see the pits and chips and cracks through the strange green stone...
...and as the robed figure raised its head, the breeze that caused the mist to eddy blew back his cowl and his face became visible, and his face was mine. It was my face, but as it smiled I realized it was as alien as could possibly be. Its eyes were empty as it smiled... and the breeze became slightly stronger and the flesh on his face lifted and flew in small circles in the wind – looking identical to dry dead autumn leaves caught in the wind, and his face with nothing more than a grimacing skull.
And
as the breeze slightly calmed down, the dead dry autumn leaves found
their way back and reformed him human-like disguise.
It was at this point that that third-party, disconnected, disembodied perspective ceased, and I became the pilgrim wearing only the white pants and red/brown silk sash around his waist.
The robed figure (me?) quickly flipped the stone sword right-side-up and charged.
The pilgrim (me?) countered and attacked using only martial arts.
I was vaguely aware that I had freedom within this dream. Although I could not avoid this combat, I was in complete control as to the fighting itself. (In the real world, at the time of this dream, I held a Red Belt in Taekwon-do – that's 2 belts short of Black).
I'll gloss over this longest part of the dream. In short, it was these two fighting. But I will repeat what I had said earlier. It was like watching a movie in HD 3-D!
But every time the pilgrim scored a (brutal) hit, the stone-sword-wielding robed figure's flesh would explore off, carried by the wind like dead autumn leaves, only to return and reform it's skin. But still the two combated one another.
It went only like this for some time (And like ringnut's description of rage-dreams, that is very similar to what I was emotionally experiencing – rage, yet controlled. Although the words were never spoken in the dream, the underlying 'message' or 'feel' was this far and no farther!.
The battle changed at one point. The two broke away from each other as the pilgrim stood legs apart and braced with his fists at his side. He seemed to be summoning some sort of energy or power. (As embarrassing as this sounds, it seemed very much like Goku's Kamehameha attack).
Unbeknown to the pilgrim, from behind him came this monstrous dragon. (The exact dragon of my tattoo!) It would seemed to have been 'swimming' through the ground, if such a thing were possible. Every time it arched out and boomed back into the ground was like thunder! And as it slammed into the pilgrim's back he glowed with power! He thrust his hands forward and a gale force wind blew towards the sword-wielding robed figure.
His hood and cowl completely blew back as he fought this wind. His skin stripped from his bones, but this time didn't spin in circles and reattach. This time it left his as nothing but bones; a bare skeleton and skull. And then the pilgrim charged and attacked!
He hit the skeleton with a flying side kick and this time it was shattered bone that blew away.
The sword-wielding figure still struggling against the winds, it's dead dry leaf-like flesh long since gone, and now its bones be shattered with every hit.
I returned to that third-person, disconnected, disembodied perspective and the camera-angle (you must again forgive me) began ascending, giving a more and more bird's eye view of the battling two, the sounds of their combat and the screaming wind becoming smaller and smaller until they would out of sight.
~ ~
I then came out of my 'meditative' state. (I woke up)
It was at this point that that third-party, disconnected, disembodied perspective ceased, and I became the pilgrim wearing only the white pants and red/brown silk sash around his waist.
The robed figure (me?) quickly flipped the stone sword right-side-up and charged.
The pilgrim (me?) countered and attacked using only martial arts.
I was vaguely aware that I had freedom within this dream. Although I could not avoid this combat, I was in complete control as to the fighting itself. (In the real world, at the time of this dream, I held a Red Belt in Taekwon-do – that's 2 belts short of Black).
I'll gloss over this longest part of the dream. In short, it was these two fighting. But I will repeat what I had said earlier. It was like watching a movie in HD 3-D!
But every time the pilgrim scored a (brutal) hit, the stone-sword-wielding robed figure's flesh would explore off, carried by the wind like dead autumn leaves, only to return and reform it's skin. But still the two combated one another.
It went only like this for some time (And like ringnut's description of rage-dreams, that is very similar to what I was emotionally experiencing – rage, yet controlled. Although the words were never spoken in the dream, the underlying 'message' or 'feel' was this far and no farther!.
The battle changed at one point. The two broke away from each other as the pilgrim stood legs apart and braced with his fists at his side. He seemed to be summoning some sort of energy or power. (As embarrassing as this sounds, it seemed very much like Goku's Kamehameha attack).
Unbeknown to the pilgrim, from behind him came this monstrous dragon. (The exact dragon of my tattoo!) It would seemed to have been 'swimming' through the ground, if such a thing were possible. Every time it arched out and boomed back into the ground was like thunder! And as it slammed into the pilgrim's back he glowed with power! He thrust his hands forward and a gale force wind blew towards the sword-wielding robed figure.
His hood and cowl completely blew back as he fought this wind. His skin stripped from his bones, but this time didn't spin in circles and reattach. This time it left his as nothing but bones; a bare skeleton and skull. And then the pilgrim charged and attacked!
He hit the skeleton with a flying side kick and this time it was shattered bone that blew away.
The sword-wielding figure still struggling against the winds, it's dead dry leaf-like flesh long since gone, and now its bones be shattered with every hit.
I returned to that third-person, disconnected, disembodied perspective and the camera-angle (you must again forgive me) began ascending, giving a more and more bird's eye view of the battling two, the sounds of their combat and the screaming wind becoming smaller and smaller until they would out of sight.
~ ~
I then came out of my 'meditative' state. (I woke up)
Feb. 1/13
I think it is important to identify that there were three aspects of myself present within this dream, not two.
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