Hey Friends,
Im just following a random urge to write about a dream I had… and I’m in the middle of a launch for a Mentoring journey for Men, so I think I’m supposed to be writing about that, but anyway here we are.
So this dream was super vivid, one of those ones where you wake up, and actual reality is less real than the dream. One of those ones where you can remember the textures on the walls in the room, in the dream.
I was in a temple- it felt like being inside one a Pyramid, but not Egypt, more like Mexico. Like this one.
It was hollow… I was inside a cavernous space, a great hall.
The walls were ornately carved with Mayan-style patterns, very intricate. The blackness was punctured by flames either side of the stage.
There was a ceremony happening, and the person leading it was on the stage. She had Medusa-vibes. She didn’t actually have snakes for hair, but she had that vibe.
Ferocious. A little creepy.
There was dancing, chanting, trance states, building energy… increasing wildness… peaking, peaking… to a crescendo of frenzied stomping on the ground. A little bit “Dusk til Dawn”, Tarantino vibes.
And then…. suddenly… silence…. stillness… for ages….
At this point, I leap from the crowd, lunge towards Medusa-Chief-Medicine woman…
…and stabbed her in the neck, in the throat, over and over again.
It was bloody and horrible. But it was also, benevolent and necessary.
I had acted from love.
Fortunately, the dream ended before I could be torn apart by the crowd… or crowned as the new boss. :)
In the morning I told Anna about my dream. And in the days that followed, that bloody scene kept on recurring.
About 2 weeks before the dream, I had gone to see an energy healer. She is legit amazing, the kind of healer who is having yarns with your spirit guides from the moment you book the session.
So in the de-brief after the session I found myself talking about my mother.
“She can’t help herself: she’s a religious fanatic who bombards me, through email and whatsapp, every day, with some version of Armegeddon alarmism, usually wrapped in layers of conspiracy theory, that are probably half true…
My whole life, I’ve received from her half-baked, fear-soaked rubbish… in every phone call… (so I stopped phone calls).. and in every email (so I stopped email), and in every whatsapp message.
Jaysus the woman won’t stop. Yes I tried to install boundaries. She finds them laughable. The woman’s trying to save my life from near-certain death in Armageddon… and I’m her son… and she channels the fury of a cornered mother, blended with the radical commitment of a kamikaze pilot honing in on an aircraft carrier… with the zeal and persistence of a life-long Jehovah’s witness (which she is).
That blend… its kinda of like how people say the cockroach is the only thing that will survive a nuclear war. My Mum’s fanaticism is that staunch. She’s only getting more fanatical.”
So the energy healer takes all this in… and says “You must stop receiving these messages from her. Do whatever it takes… your nervous system is activated with every message.”
At that moment I had this image of a mother always being connected to her children.. through some metaphysical umbilical cord… and I had this horrendous feeling that my mother had access to my deep psyche, the ability to incept my subconscious, or just tug a thread connected to some dreadful image or story she had planted in me as a child… a child who had been subjected to endless hours and years of maniacal berating, and her fire-hose of religious brainwashing (and kumon).
And I know it’s true.. because when the COVID madness was in full swing, and there were quarantine camps being built and police stopping me to check my medical details, and fucking barista’s saying I can’t have a flat white… during that time… I had some horrendous nightmares that went into Armageddon land.
I mean this was the kind of thing we read as kids.
So, quite clearly my Mums regime of religious brain-rape actually worked a bit. And now, 28 years after I left her religion ( I was 15), I get triggered and put into an Armageddon fear response by a couple of mandates, and travel restrictions.
Back to the dream.
You don’t have to be Sigmund Freud to figure out that Medusa woman was clearly representative of my mother.
And my stabbing of her throat… silencing her… perhaps representative of my urge to end this barrage of bullshit she won’t stop sending?
The strange thing is… that since that dream, I did experience a breakthrough of sorts.. I feeling of freedom… the definitive ending of a chapter and the start of a new one.
Is this the way it works? A casual bit of dream-scape murder, to sever the metaphysical umbilical cord?
A bit of bloody matricide to herald the dawn of a new day?
You know what… I reckon that’s exactly how it is.
Hope you enjoyed the story, and perhaps theres something in there for you to chew on.
Just remember to keep it in the dream-scape folks.
Much love, Jiro
p.s By the way, I love my mum. She’s a classic. Keeps on teaching me, in ways I could never imagine.
P.p.s Any men who have read this far must have some of their own “mother shit” going on. I see you bro. Hectic shit hey.
This is the kind of territory we routinely get into when you work with me. Because it’s the real deal.
Im opening up spots in my new year long mentoring journey for men who want to go deeeeeeeep… into their healing, to face up to all of what has gone down in the past… to honour, forgive, accept, re-write the narrative… honour what has been and what is.. to initiate into new pathways that emerge from the heart….. Hit reply to set up a chat. x
That's Good, Keep Going! 💥 "You should never regret anything in life. If it's good, it's wonderful. If it's bad, it is experience. - Unknown"