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Issue 2, 28 November 1998A Tsunami? No problem©Jane Teresa Anderson, November 1998
"Come closer," I gently urged the dozen or so people who had swam out to sea with me. "It’s quite simple really," I soothed, keeping myself afloat with ease despite the depth of sea water beneath me which would normally send my heart racing. Neither did the huge tsunami slowly moving towards us disturb my calm. My every sense was alive and skewed to the positive. The invigorating smell of salt, the vastness of the ocean beneath me, the slow, awesome, majestic roll of the tsunami, the cool, easy-breathing air, the attendant, if uncertain, students bobbing in the water behind me. Every sense was tuned to the max except for the one which might have told me that I was in a dream. I’m not enthusiastic about lucid dreaming, which is where you wake up to the fact that you are dreaming WHILE you are in the dream and then either manipulate the action or let the dream roll in total awareness that this is not the only reality that you inhabit. Personally I prefer to be deluded into thinking and feeling that the dream is the only reality. This way the problem-solving and role-playing opportunities provided by the dream are lived out for real. There’s nothing like the total experience to drive home a lesson: which brings me back to the Tsunami class: "The only way to deal with a tsunami is to confront it: to face it," I confidently announced. I turned to face the wave which conveniently maintained its slow motion advance, enabling me plenty of time to teach and illustrate my lesson. I really couldn’t fathom (?!) out why the students were holding back. As I watched the tsunami rolling closer I decided to close my eyes to avoid foreknowledge of the moment of impact. In darkness I took myself through my paces: "It’s okay," I reassured myself silently, "I’ll get wet and my head will go under the water, but I will emerge and I’ll be fine. It’ll be okay." Moments passed and all was silent. Ripples of mild panic interrupted my calm concentration. "What am I thinking of?! A tsunami is an enormous wall of water! It’s going to smash my body to pieces and kill me!" The sense of duty to continue with the lesson, underscored by a tenacious faith despite the odds, helped to keep me firm in my resolve. Somehow I knew that my tightly shut eyes were more a sign of fear than a means of intensifying my focus, but they remained closed as the waiting silence stretched. "Maybe the tsunami’s dissipated," a hopeful inner voice whispered. "Maybe it’s right upon you now," countered it’s opposition. Silence yawned and prolonged the tension. I thought about opening my eyes to check on the situation, but didn’t think I could handle discovering the wall of water right in front of me. Finally I understood: the ultimate act of confrontation required open eyes. I took a deep breath and raised my eyelids. The tidal wave had disappeared, the sky was blue and the sun was gently shining. This was a dream I had shortly before one of my book releases. Since water in dreams often symbolises our emotions, tsunamis generally represent repressed emotions which can no longer be held back, or an emotional situation which is about to burst into the waking world. I’m sure you can imagine the process of writing a book in solitude, weaving major episodes of your personal life into its chapters and then anticipating publication and media/public reaction. I was about to face my personal tsunami of revelation-made-public as well as a possible public tsunami of response. My dream made me aware of the enormity of my feelings and gave me the opportunity to discover the best way to handle the situation ahead of publication. Since all the people in a dream symbolise aspects of the dreamer, I could see (when I later interpreted my dream), that I was indeed fearful and holding back, while also prepared to learn at a distance (symbolised by the students). The message of the dream was simple: the only way to face your fears is to confront them peacefully with your eyes wide open and with total faith. The feared event or situation completely dissipates. As, of course, it did! All went well through publication and beyond. The commonly recurring version of the tsunami dream is to see the tidal wave bearing down, then to turn and run as fast as you can. The running away (the not facing the fear) solves nothing and is the reason why the dream recurs. If you have this kind of dream tell yourself that next time you’re in this situation you’ll turn around and confront the tsunami. (You’ll be surprised at how easy it is to programme yourself to change a recurring dream.) It works powerfully because the dream, when you are in it, feels as if it is for real, and the courage it takes to face the wave is real courage, as is the intense sense of enlightenment in overcoming the dream crisis. On waking this sense of empowerment has the real and palpable effect of spilling over into waking life. When life presents its challenges you will find yourself able to summon up your feelings from the dream experience to help you face whatever it is you need to face. The practical, everyday application of dream lessons learned through role-playing and problem solving in ‘real’ dream situations is powerful enough to change your life ... or, at least, to turn back tides and tsunamis! Jane Teresa Anderson |
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