I Need To Find A Safe Place To Blow Up!
Are you a dreamer? Do you receive messages from Spirit in your night dreams?
Greetings, Sister Tribe! Angels, guides, God and ancestors have been communicating with me through my dreams for my entire life! My bet is that most of you Sisters experience this phenomenon, too I would LOVE to hear about all your nightdreams, Sisters! So, please hear my please share them here… comment below… let’s connect! <3
Sometimes the messages are so clear, aren’t they? Easy to understand and digest. Others, like my “bomb” dream (which I’ll share several paragraphs later than now) … has literally taken me years to find closure. Apparently, my Divinely Designed, inherent healing plan needed me to take my time to learn more for myself (like the Dorothy of Oz from my last blog post) … until today. It’s all coming together!
Today, I awoke from my nightdream with a new-to-me-word I just had to look up:
Yep. “Fagled” is my word of the day. What a treasure-hunt this morning has turned out to be! In my dream, a woman was explaining to me, and others present, that I am “fagled.” She literally wrote it out for me… s l o w l y …spelling it out clearly for me to see (so that when I woke up I would remember!) and then after it was spelled out for me slowly in my dream, I was told it meant: angry grief. That I am fagled; I have angry grief.
Well, duh. That wasn’t news to me. I don’t get it. Respectfully & genuinely curious, why are you telling me something I already know?
So why write it out to be sure I got the spelling right? What’s the message here?
Treasure-hunt is on!
[(Insert my present-moment déjà vu right now as I write this blog)! I dreamt this moment, reading this blog, a long time ago! Tears… )]
Okay, back to the treasure-hunt!
Praise Google, I had immediate access to a whole other world where I learned that “fagled” is a Welsh word (Welsh being a language within the Insular Celtic family, and a language I don’t know. I only speak English, people!): “fagled” means:
Yes! How perfectly it describes my experience of being enmeshed and entangled with my angry grief! Identity?! Caught in a snare! Wow! Like a dolphin in a tuna net! ☹
I received another angle of perception to myself to help me break free of my snared identity known as angry grief; I am fagled by angry grief. Fagled.
But why “fagled?” Couldn’t I just have had a dream of being trapped in a snare and being all grieved about it? No. No, I could not.
Why not spell out a different word like: snare or enmeshed? Why did it have to be a word I have never heard before? A foreign-language word that was “alien” to me? Why precisely, “fagled?”
Was it specifically to get me in touch with my ancestors of Welsh descent?
Yes. Yes, that feels really right. I’m digging in the treasure here…
My mother was adopted, but years after her death, when I was in my early 20’s I met my mom’s biological mother who is Swedish, Irish, English, Scottish, and Cherokee. I don’t know my mother’s biological father’s heritage. I have not had my DNA tested, but at this point I’m fairly certain that there must be Welsh & Celtic in there somewhere! We’ll see!
My treasure-hunt uncovered that (through DNA testing) about 80% of the Welsh are of Paleolithic (hunter-gather) tribal indigenous heritage, while the other 20% of the DNA is Neolithic (farmer) tribal indigenous.
My tribal indigenous heritage is very important to me, as I’ve shared in other posts about my Curandera roots on my father’s side of the family; I literally feel my ancestors often surrounding me and loving me which is deeply healing every time. This family connection goes all the way back to when my family (ancestors) lived in indigenous tribes throughout the world. But this dream is about the Welsh specifically, which also makes me wonder if maybe some of the grief I carry (that’s ready to be un-snared and un-meshed from my identity) is for the griefs of my Welsh & Celtic ancestors?
Scientific studies on rodents and human survivors of the WWII holocaust prove that our descendants carry our grief, our stresses, and our experiences (positive or negative) in their DNA, predisposing them to have less resilience to life stressors and more prone to anxiety and depression. There are so many articles about this topic on the internet, it’s just incredible!
My ancestors know I am going to community Grief Ritual in August with my cousin. In fact, my cousin on my father’s side (Maria Owl Gutierrez founder ofwww.SacredFuture.org ) is leading the Grief Ritual (as she does all over the world).
Also, Francis Weller, an author and teacher of grief, explains that there are 6 gates to grief… and one of them is the grief we carry for our ancestors: Ancestral Grief.
So, what does this have to do with my dreams coming together? Now it’s time for me to tell you all about my “bomb” dream… dun, dun, dun!
“The unexploded bomb” (that’s me) started with a male villain (also a reflection of me as it turns out), as most of my dreams do have a male villain, he was kidnapping children, enslaving them and abusing them. I don’t do this in real life, folks, so don’t freak out here… but symbolically doing this to my own inner child through my fagled angry grief? … absolutely yes.
[Side Note: In almost all my dreams, 99.9%, I am The Hero that Always Wins and I also almost always fight and win ALONE! This is a very important detail when working with dreams; noticing recurring themes and patterns. My dream-warrior-self, The Hero, has been compensating for how I feel in my waking life (which has been the exact opposite of a hero that always wins).
The dream just previous to my “bomb” dream (I had three in one night) was about me as this Warrior trying to save my people from the Villains of a kingdom or country. They were dressed so old-world-like with their armor and wielding swords and such. I was looking for a portal that I knew could take us to the past to enlist help against this kingdom of villains. The portal was bright yellow, on the ground like a man-hole in the street. “Bright yellow” is important, too, because just last week I had another dream about “bright yellow” which I’ll share later… like I said, it’s all starting to weave together like Spider Woman’s Web.
This “War and the Portal” dream is the one that helped me see that in my real life, in childhood, in order to literally save my life, I had to leave my body and I believe it was my inner Warrior archetype that never got to come back. This was the dream that helped me realize I was living an old childhood, “survival-mechanism” belief: “To fight is to die. To give up is to live.”
I realized that belief, deeply emotional, entrenched, entangled, enmeshed belief worked for me as a child, but now as an adult it certainly does not work. I’ve been working on getting my Warrior energy back into my body for years now. And thanks to my “fagled” dream… here it is]:
This male villain kidnapper of the “bomb” dream, enslaver and abuser actually scared me! In my dreams, I am rarely scared! So, this is a BIG DEAL! I asked for help and got it! WE, my closest friends and family, were rescuing the children from the villain and having great success! The villain then, (secretly) turned into a robot, much like a trojan horse, that entered our “safe-house.” As we examined it, though, it was a trick. The robot was actually a bomb! We were trying to diffuse the bomb and disconnect wires, but that did not work; it just made the bomb count down faster!
So, then we were frantically looking everywhere to find a place that it could explode without hurting anyone! Under the fireplace? No! Over there in the back on the hill? No! In the canal by the café? No! After looking everywhere, and not finding anywhere that the bomb could explode without hurting anyone, I realized we only had 11 or 9 seconds to go, I saw both numbers separately. The bomb was gonna blow!… and I woke up.
Not knowing much of anything about numbers, 11 to me is angel communication and 9 is the ending… the end of a cycle. Completion. Letting go.
When I woke up is when I knew that I was the bomb! But I never found anywhere to blow up. I have been looking for a safe place to blow up for 2 ½ years!!
It’s also no accident that before talking with my cousin last week, the morning of our conversation I dreamt of graduating from her Sacred Transformational Leadership program which, of course, there were bombs going off while I was trying to get to graduation! Don’t worry, I made it! 😉
I believe my “fagled” dream has led me to realize that my ancestors know I’m going to Grief Ritual next week and they also want me to know they’re going with me. I believe they are showing me that community Grief Ritual is my safe place to blow up! And… I am not alone! Just like in my dream, I was scared, but my closest friends and family were trying to help me save the children, escape the villain, and diffuse the bomb, but when that didn’t work, they then tried to help me find a safe place to blow up. Wow, the power of community, huh?
Grief Ritual is a safe place to blow up because of all the community, ancestral, Spirit support. I am not alone! My grief has a bottom. The Grief Ritual is a safe container. This practice, this ritual is an Earth-based indigenous ritual to support the psychological and spiritual health of one and all.
What does a bright yellow portal have to do with all of this? Again, the portal was going to take us to the past to enlist help, to team up, to strategize how to fight this army and win! I believe this portal to “the past” could be our past selves (memories), our history, our ancestors and their history… but this “teaming-up” collective, collaborative knowledge of our individual histories with our ancestors’ histories could help us strategically defeat the villains! Grief Ritual is a strategy from the past to help us fight our villains now!
The villains of my nightdreams are the villainous, murderous, negative, un-loving thoughts and subconscious or secret beliefs we all have about ourselves when we get afraid, or lonely, or lost. You name it, Sisters, I’m sure all of us have had negative self-talk at one time or another.
I believe the “portal” in the ground takes us to the community Grief Ritual (and other grounding, Earth-based indigenous ceremonies, rites of passage, and rituals)… One of the things we find on the other side of the portal is the grief ritual of our indigenous pasts, an indigenous practice or strategy that helped them all overcome the “villains.”
The dream I had last week (described below) is weaving together with these other two dreams about the “portal” and the “bomb” that I had in 2015 through the unmistakable symbol of “bright yellow.”
Last week I had a dream about a villain chasing me (surprise! …not! 😉)
I used a motorcycle most of the way to escape, then ran into my cave (yes it was “my” cave)! I locked the door behind me and then realized in a rush of panic that I had to block and lock the other secret entrance to my cave before the villain could get in! I raced to grab the “door” that was really a large square of stone (probably 16 inches/side… yes, my dreams are very detailed! LOL) and I dove on the ground, like a skilled baseball player stealing home plate, and I shoved that stone door in place as quickly as I could! But Aaahhhh!! The secret “entrance” to my cave was not a square shape! It was more like a wide, yet short opening that seemed oval-ish, but pointed on the far ends, like the shape of an eye! Wow!
The villain reached her hand into the crack between the stone “door” and the unfitted corner edge of my secret cave entrance, trying to grab me, just as I slammed that stone “door” in place! I freaked out and grabbed a hatchet and chopped most of her fingers off and part of her hand! She had bright yellow blood! It was then I realized she was not only female (my villains are usually male), but she was not human!
This sleek, quick, agile, naked, gorgeous, strong & powerful, female alien with bright yellow blood (merely disguised as a human woman) was getting into my cave!
I woke up knowing she was going to get me and I was terrified.
Phew! Solar Plexus, anyone!?!? Yeah. The Solar Plexus to me is my dream Warrior Self. It’s about being able to identify, set, and hold boundaries. “Hold the line!” I hear Mel Gibson commanding in “Patriot” as he waves the American flag of sovereignty! Hold the line!
Because of the software that was installed in my body and psyche when I was very little, I have looked at the concept of “boundaries” like: “Boundaries? What is this word you speak of? Explain this concept to me.” This term, this power, is alien to me. I have listened for years, tried to understand, but ever-oh-so elusive.
Chopping off most of this woman-alien’s fingers and hand is quite significant for this Hand Analyst, here. In fact, not surprisingly, according to my fingertip profile, that “boundary” thing is one of my Life Lesson’s as discovered through Scientific Hand Analysis! Woah! Talk about accurate! That particular fingerprint found on that specific finger of mine is titled: “Blocked Passions” and it comes with a cycle of: Boundaries get broken, feel like a victim, feel ashamed, so shut down/feel numb… what passions? Nothing excites me. I’m not interested in anything. Nothing is fun. Life sucks. The world is scary and not safe. Blah. Blech. Blah. I live in a haze of shame and depression, serving no one.
Well, not right now, but it has certainly come and gone for as long as I can remember; as is the nature of a Life Lesson 😉
If you don’t have this in your fingerprint profile, then your life experiences probably won’t be filtered and perceived through a lens like this, and you may find yourself unable to relate to what feels like an overwhelming sense of powerlessness (I’m too little to get him off me! I’m too weak to get him out of me!) suffocating panic ensues. Remember: “To fight is to die. To give up is to live.” My entire life is about my personal power. My personal sovereignty.
Can I just say, I am SO permeating with gratitude right now for my nightdreams helping me heal throughout my life?! Yes!
So, weaving all these beautiful, intense, powerful dreams together… I am going to community Grief Ritual in August, next week. The bright yellow portal and alien blood are my inner Warrior, dream Hero Self; but also helping me see that I am not alone, and in fact, my sense of personal power comes from being forever connected to my ancestors’ unwavering, unconditional, eternal love for me; they’ve got my back. I am their descendant. I am their daughter. I am the one breaking trauma cycles. They need me for healing as much as I need them.
Through the portal to the past, this indigenous strategy of community Grief Ritual, I will no longer be fagled by angry grief because I get to detonate! My community in the flesh, cooperating with my ancestors (perhaps of Welsh descent), will provide the safe place for me to blow up!
When I face life with my own sovereign power, I stand with a tall spine, strong legs and eager feet… supported by my ancestral line. I am never alone. I feel my power surge back into my body, energizing me, as my tears wash down my face to dissolve the illusion that I was ever alone at all.
My salty tears cleanse me and conduct my power! I was never alone!
What an exhausting belief to feel alone! Who is alone?! No one! Of course we are exhausted, overwhelmed and depressed when we believe the thought that we are abandoned and alone. That’s SO painful, so exhausting, so DRAINING!
… And of course we have Arrogance, Ego and Martyr when we believe we are alone, yet we prevail! (Which is also exhausting, by the way 😉 )
We are never alone. All that we are now is because of who came before us… all those “love connections” (or not) that created us over the last 60,000 years or so… and they who have risen to become our elevated ancestors stand with us still through darkness into beauty. We are their descendants and we carry their wisdom in our bones.
I would like to conclude with a Song of Healing, the Nightway chant of the Navajo:
(A Hogan is a “family home” owned by the woman of the family and its doorway always faces the rising sun).
Navajo Nightway chant:
“Hogan formed from dusk and dawn,
Hogan formed of mist and gloom,
Hogan formed of rain and clouds,
Hogan formed of insects buzzing.
A fog of darkness knocks.
Darkness is the path
That leads out of darkness.
Let my legs stand again.
Let my feet walk again.
Let my body move again.
Restore my mind to me.
Feeling soothed, may I wander.
Feeling cooled, may I wander.
Feeling healed, may I wander.
May I wander free of pain.
May there be beauty before me.
May there be beauty behind me.
May there be beauty above me.
May there be beauty below me.
May there be beauty all around.
In beauty it is finished.”
–from Spider Woman’s Web by Susan Hazen-Hammond, pgs. 35-36
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