Lover’s Parting

He had been holding his woman in his arms, cradling her on his lap, twirling her hair through his fingers and breathing in the fragrance of her, of wild lavender and sea mist, while he nuzzled the soft, warm skin behind her ear. He pulled a tiny package from his pouch and held it before her. She took it, looking at him with sad eyes and a trembling smile. He watched her delicate white fingers untie the ribbon and open the paper. Folded inside was a pendant shaped like half a heart. It was painted red, and there was a poem engraved on it; a love poem, but it was unfinished. She looked up at him, confused. He opened his hand to reveal the other half of the heart with the end of the poem. He closed their hands together holding the hearts tightly inside and brought her hands to his lips. He lightly brushed his upper lip against the silky skin between her knuckles. He was so desperately in love with her. He wanted nothing but to be with her and share a life. But he couldn’t, not yet. “I cannot stay,” he declared. His cloak whipped in the wind behind him. “I cannot. The freedom of youth is mine no more.” It was time for him to make a tremendous sacrifice. A long sigh of sadness escaped her, and her eyes widened with denial as they filled with tears. He braced himself there in the shadow of the great ship about to sail away with him. He felt his boots sink into the sand, and if he remained in her presence much longer, he would lose his strength and run off with her. But he was doing this for her. For them. When he returned from this voyage, he would have the means to marry her. They held onto each other in silence. Their goodbye spreading wide around them. No tearful pleadings came from her. She released her hands from his and slowly stepped away. He closed his eyes against the pain of his heart ripping apart and his stomach souring and when he opened them again, she was gone, vanished, like a vapor, swept away on the wind.


I brought a girlfriend to my family house. It was a house where we had always gathered for family get-togethers. It’s not a real house, but a house I created in my dreams. But the friend is a real friend, I just can’t remember now who it was, I think it was Alice. She kept behind me as I led the way into the home. There was a family dinner happening and much activity going on. There were others in the kitchen and moving around the house and in the yard, I could hear Mexican music and talking and laughing and I felt at ‘“home,” comfortable, and happy. I could smell the food… I couldn’t see anyone else in detail but my Grandpas Lupe and Albert watching me with smiling faces as I approached them. They were both sitting on stools in the kitchen near a counter drinking beer. They looked so handsome and happy, and were stylishly dressed in short sleeved shirts, 1950’s style. Grandpa Lupe was closest to me as we approached, so I introduced him to my friend first. He stood up and welcomed her, then took me up into his arms and held me for a very long time. Hugs from my Grandpa Lupe while he was alive never felt good to me, I never felt love from him. But in this dream hug, I felt absolute love. Everything he ever wanted me to know was in that hug. His hug healed everything hard that passed between us, it healed our relationship. He finally let me go and sent me to my Grandpa Albert who took me up, smiling at me, and pulled me into his arms. I remember his scent. I remember his scent when he was alive, and he still smells like that. I don’t know if I can describe it. It’s some combination of sun-heated skin and cigarette smoke lingering on the air, of a freshly peeled orange, of beer, clean earth and aftershave. The stubble on his face scratched my cheeks. I can still feel that. His embrace was long, and love emanated from the warmth and strength in his arms, too. I felt at home, and rejuvenated, somehow. I was home, I was with my Family.


Tears roll down my cheeks as I write this, remembering being with them both in this dream and wanting to go back to them, remembering the feelings I experienced with them there. I went to visit my Family Home in the Dreamworld, and I know my ancestors were all there, my dad, my Grandmas and aunts and uncles, I felt them ALL there. But my Grandpas needed to see me on this visit. A month after this dream, I would come to understand why I had it, why my Grandpas were so present, showing me love and strong patriarchal support. I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer on June 26, 2020. I had this dream on May 20, 2020.

The White Calf

I was at my mom’s house and from her big livingroom window, I kept seeing great owls fly down and land. Their wings were spread, and their feathers were all shades of brown, gold, black, white and yellow…the colors were strikingly beautiful. I noticed another one fly down and wondered how many might be there when an ENORMOUS bald eagle swooped down and landed amongst the owls.  When that happened, I ran outside to see what was going on. They were all on top of a huge animal. I couldn’t tell what it was- a cow, or a buffalo, maybe…it was dead, and it was dark in color. Its back was to me as I approached it. The owls and eagle were on top of it, covering it with their bodies, their wings slightly spread as if throwing a veil over my eyes. They had opened a hole in its side below its ribcage and were feeding on it. I saw bits of raw, red flesh, but nothing bloody or messy. There was no smell. The beast’s fur around its shoulders and neck rustled in the wind. I stood still, in silence, watching, wondering what, if anything, I should do. And then I heard a high-pitched cry coming from the other side of the animal. I leapt forward toward the beast’s body and startled the owls and eagle. They stopped what they were doing and looked at me with their fierce yellow eyes. I was not afraid. I cried out and saw a small white head pop up from under the beast’s body. It was a calf! As I ran around to reach the calf, the owls and eagle all opened their wings and took off. They made a great wind and whooshing as they flew away. Their flight was quite a majestic scene. I turned my attention to the calf again. It pulled itself from under its mother’s heavy body. I could hear its new hooves clicking and scratching the pavement as it struggled to gain its feet. It finally freed itself and stood on its long, knobby legs. He wobbled over to me and shyly lowered his head to me. I stretched my hands out toward him and smiled, allowing my energy to open and tell him he is safe with me. He accepted me and became happier. He followed me back to my mom’s house and I began to wonder what I was going to feed him. I continued to pet and play with him. He laid and curled at my feet like a dog and looked at me with love in his eyes. I felt so sad for the little orphan, how heartbroken and frightened he must have been! I felt he would never leave me now, like I was now his mother. His fur was thick and curly white, and his mouth was a bit pink as he looked up at me, sniffing me. My mom said something I can’t quite remember now, but it was like I always know when something needs love. My brother, Matt, was laying on the couch playing my dad’s Native American Indian flute. He played so beautifully, like he’d been playing it all his life. My mom sat next to him in a chair. Tears filled her eyes, and her smile was happy and filled with pride listening to him and watching me coddle and coo the white calf.


I felt this was a very important dream and was a bit overcome by it. I have beautifully vivid, meaningful dreams on the reg, but this one struck a chord in me I’ve never heard before. I know the Lakota and many other tribes have a deep spiritual connection to the White Buffalo and White Buffalo Calf Woman, and white animals have great spiritual significance all over the world. Indigenous American people have appeared in my dreams since I began having them, and they are the same few people. I know them now as my Spirit Helpers; perhaps they are ancestors from hundreds or thousands of years back.

I mean no disrespect to anyone, and I hope no one is offended by the Indigenous American references I make in my writings. They come in my dreams and I do not embellish anything, I write the dream as it occurred. Dreams are sacred to me. Everything and every being that appears in my dreams are sacred to me. I do not claim to be of any tribe or any affiliation, nor would I ever presume such. But I do know, through my own family oral history, genealogy, and DNA that I am descended from the Purépecha, Aztec and Mayan peoples. I also recently discovered, through DNA comparisons from My True Ancestry, that some of my DNA comes from the indigenous peoples of Southeast Canada/Northeastern US: Iroquois, Algonquin, Mi kmaq, and Alaskan Athabaskans. My DNA is made up of a higher percentage of Indigenous Peoples of North America, and then Roman Hispana. This is why I believe the people, the Spirit Helpers, who appear in my dreams again and again are related to me, I believe they are my ancestors. Could this dream of a white buffalo calf be a collective memory stored in my DNA passed on in my blood and bone? I really, really like that idea. It is true, this: We are the result of the love of thousands. And they remain with us, forever guiding us in our dreams, guiding us along the Right Path, the Path of Stars, that will finally reunite us with them and our Creator.

Let us remember from whence we came. Let us remember and honor those who made our blood and bones over all these thousands of years for they remain with us in this world and the next at the same time. This is a powerful bond. Honor them, your ancestors. Honor their work and sacrifices, their love, their pain, their happiness, their regrets, their dreams, their lives. It is because they lived that YOU live.

Is there someone in your life that’s been fighting a spiritual battle or a battle with something powerful? In interpreting this dream, I feel the “old” person, as represented by the cow, is now dead and has been reborn as the calf. White signifies purity, like someone has fought their demons and has been reborn and that I assisted this person when they were in a dark place through my attention and care. Owls and Eagles are strong powerful beings, and they were feasting on this adult animal (almost eating it alive). The calf was fighting to live, and this calf is an extension of the adult animal (a newly born version of the former being). With my help (scaring away the birds and listening to the calf’s cries) the calf survived the ordeal. I continued to support and care for this calf by wondering what to feed it (nourishing its soul and wanting to help it sustain this new life). I think my Aunt Anita helped me interpret this dream. I posted it on Facebook the morning I had it, and I think the above is her response to that dream. She’s quite a Healer and Fierce Warrior Woman in her own right. I come from a long line of strong, proud, noble women.

Ghost in the Kitchen

I was in my kitchen getting a spoon out of a drawer. I closed it, turned to walk away then heard the drawer open again behind me. I turned around and rubbed my eyes, making sure I was actually seeing what I saw. I closed the drawer and as I started to walk away, I heard it open again. I rushed back and slammed it shut. It opened by itself. I looked into it and took it out and peeked around inside the cabinet, I checked the little rails the drawer rolled on, but couldn’t figure out why it kept opening. I stood there, confused. Then, behind me, a cabinet door opened by itself. Then other drawers and cabinet doors started to open and close by themselves. I wasn’t afraid, but was becoming vastly irritated. I knew now a ghost was in my house messing with me. The drawers and cabinet doors kept opening and slamming shut all around my kitchen and there was nothing I could do about it. Exasperated, I threw up my hands and stormed out, wanting to get away from all the racket. I walked down my hallway toward my bedroom but started to get pulled back toward the kitchen in a weird pulling, twisting sort of way, fighting a force I couldn’t see, being dragged along the wall. I started to yell, “You don’t belong here! Get the FUCK out of my house!” And I said that last part out loud. It woke me up!

Interpretation/Analysis I don’t often have dreams featuring monsters or ghosts or being murdered…I don’t have nightmares. I mean, this dream could be construed as “scary,” but to me, it wasn’t. I wasn’t afraid in my dream, I was at first startled, then angry when I realized an unseen mischievous force was harassing me. I fought back. I always felt I had the upper hand in that dream, even though at first it didn’t seem so. The dream showed me I am strong enough to face the “scary” unseen things, that I would not be afraid, that I didn’t need to be afraid. This is the power you can have when you understand your dreams, when you are dreaming lucidly, able to manipulate the direction of the dream by your active participation. You don’t have to be helpless and just “take” whatever comes in the dream. If you are being chased and you are running for your life, it usually means something in your waking life is overwhelming you and you are not feeling strong enough to face it. In such a dream, make yourself “awaken,” do you understand me? Make yourself aware that you are dreaming, then stop running, turn around and confront the thing that is chasing you. Face your fears, talk to them, interact with them. This will empower you to do the same in your waking life. By doing so, you will find the solutions to the issues confronting you in the physical world.

Calling My Wolves

I found myself in the back of a wagon, jostling and rattling about roughly as it sped along the dirt road. As I awoke, I began to feel the pain in my body from the beating I took when I was captured. I winced in pain as I looked around me. There were two men on a seat at the front of the wagon, one held the reins of two enormous horses and drove them very hard. The other man held a club on his lap, ready to strike when needed. It was a heavy-looking ugly thing, an easy skull crushing weapon. There were other soldiers on horseback flanking the wagon. They were as mighty as their horses, dressed in armor and fur. They carried their longswords slung over their backs. I had been lying on the floor of the wagon on a bear fur with no other blankets to protect me from the snow and wind. But I felt warmth pressed against me. I reached for it and found my white wolf lying next to me. She was frighteningly still, though, and her beautiful snow-white fur was stained red with her blood. She managed a whimper as my hand came down to feel her throat. I leaned over and embraced her. I knew she fought with all her might in protecting me, trying to prevent me from being kidnapped. They beat her nearly to death. I couldn’t bear seeing her that way and knew they would finish her when we reached the Black Castle. I saw it looming on the mountainside ahead, it’s spindly towers piercing the storm-laden clouds above it. I had to get my wolf to safety, somehow. She was prepared to give her life for mine, I must protect hers now. I stood and wrapped my long white gown around me, I covered my head with my white shawl. These were not warm enough. I shivered and tightened my arms about me. There was a dark green forest  bordering the road. I looked into it and listened. I knew what I had to do. I called to my wolves, my guardians, my family. I called to them with the powerful voice of my heart and knew they would hear me and come. In moments, my wolves began to dart forth from the trees. The soldiers were startled at the sight, their horses reared and cried out in fear, but the wolves had one mission in mind, and it wasn’t to save me or do any harm to them. Their direction from me was to take my white wolf and save her. I would go and manage what awaited me in the Black Castle myself. I knew I would be safe, that I would be able to free myself with my magic, but my white wolf would not fare as well. I looked down on her battered body. Her blood-stained fur ruffled and parted in the wind. I sent a message to her, too, with the voice of my heart. I felt her, I felt her pain and I felt she would not be parted from me. I already felt her resisting me as she began to understand what I wanted to do. I gave her my love and all the strength I could summon. I then prodded her and she leapt to her feet, she leapt up and I helped push her out of the wagon. The other wolves were right there, running alongside, waiting to receive her. She landed amongst them and I watched as they disappeared into the forest, my beautiful white wolf with them, glowing like a ghost as she wove through the trees. I watched until I couldn’t see her anymore. She would be safe. Her safety and survival meant all to me. My wolf family will heal her wounds. And I will be with them again, soon. I turned and faced forward, then, my eyes on the Black Castle. I watched as I got closer, my eyes set upon its darkness with quiet stillness and no fear.

Then I woke up.


This dream showed me, in the most beautiful way, to trust myself, to believe in my own inner voice, my own magic, and in the interconnectedness we all share with Nature, with the wild things of the forests, air, and seas. Once aware of one’s self and own divine nature, everything will work together harmoniously, everything becomes possible.

I Will Not Be A Concubine

Women were taken to be delivered into slavery or forced into whoredom. While their daughter was able to fight off the invaders, her mother was taken from her father’s protection and held as prisoner. Her mother was still rather young, and very beautiful. She would be forced to serve her new Lord as one of his dozens of concubines. The father had been able to fight off invaders, as well, and stood alive, though badly beaten, as he watched them ride out of his village with his wife tied up in a cart, pressed into the bodies of all the other women abducted from their homes that day. He began to run after them but decided against it; he would not be able to rescue these women by himself. He stood alone in the middle of the road, heaving, struggling to catch his breath, struggling to slow his racing heart. He looked around and winced at the dead silence. He seemed to be the only man left alive. Bodies lay everywhere, hanging out of windows and doorways, strewn over wheelbarrows, sprawled on the dirt road, darkening it with their blood.

Some time had passed, not much, no more than a week or two, when he had come across the village of the tribe who had just decimated his own. He waited until dark, and with a jaguar’s stealth, slid through the wooden fence and made his way to a much better constructed and secure fence. He stood there, looking for his wife. He watched groups of women attending to different tasks under the eyes of several armed guards. Then he saw her. And she saw him. He complied with her almost imperceptible gestures and met her around the side of the fenced-in yard, nearest the trees which would offer him the darkness he needed to remain hidden. She approached him, dressed in beautiful red silk robes, and wore a headdress with tiny dangling rubies encircling its brim. Her face was painted snow-white, and her lips stained red into the shape of a tiny heart. She looked at him with a sharp determination he’d never seen before. She whispered, “They will never release me.” They clasped hands through the spaces in the fence, holding on to each other tightly. “I am your wife and will remain so in body and spirit forever. I will honor the vow I made to you and defend it with my life. I will never lie with another!” She began to cry. He pressed her hands tighter, raising them to his mouth to kiss them. “Do what you must,” he told her in a rushed and desperate voice, “Do whatever you must. Just STAY ALIVE!”

He was an old man and not able to raise help to rescue her. Nearly all the young men in the village had been killed. He was satisfied his wife was at least well cared-for, she was clean and wrapped in fine attire and there were no marks on her that he could see. He returned to his village to figure out a way to free his wife from her miserable fate. The Lord had not taken her yet, but he would eventually call for her and claim her body as his war right.

By the time their daughter returned home, several months had gone by. She had fought with the fierceness of a tigress to remain free of the life of slave or concubine. She managed to escape into the forest and remained there until she felt it was safe to return home. Her father was beside himself with joy and relief at the sight of her gliding into his house. He informed her of all he knew and they both set out that night to rescue her mother. They found the village completely empty of detainees and guards. There were villagers moving things from large mounds in wheelbarrows and baskets. When the two got closer, they saw the villagers had made two long rows of skulls. Each skull had a number painted on its forehead with black paint. A little man walked up to them carrying a ledger almost bigger than he was. The ledger showed the corresponding names. No. 20 was her mother. Her father dropped to his knees and sobbed openly into his hands. She picked up the skull and held it close to her body. Then, to her amazement, she watched as her mother’s ghostly face materialized over the skull and began to speak. “Daughter. Love strengthens us. It is the only real goal, the only true accomplishment, and the only real reason to live and die. Never surrender your honor. Always be true to yourself and those you love.”  The daughter took her mother’s words into her heart. Her mother did not surrender her wedding vow, she maintained her self-respect and decided death would suit her better than a life of shame and guilt and fear. She left this world with her honor intact. The daughter lifted her mother’s skull to her lips and placed a lingering kiss on its crown. A hot tear escaped her eye and fled down her cheek onto her neck. Her father had been watching her and realized she was a formidable presence, as was her mother. He watched as her mother’s fierce spirit entered their daughter and enlivened her with power from Beyond.

And then I awoke.


This dream was so like a movie, I really didn’t want to pick it all apart looking for its message. I wanted to enjoy it without work. It’s a haunting and sad dream, to be sure, but it demonstrates a person’s capacity to rise above the most dire and fateful times in their lives. It reflects a daughter’s duty to her mother, the unrelenting love shared within a close family. I am all three of these characters in my dream: the Father, the Mother and the Daughter. The Father is someone expected to be strong, he is the Protector and Provider, but in this dream, he is old and weakened by injury and heartbreak. He must look to others to help him achieve his goals. The Mother resigns herself to her fate; she is strong enough, though, to keep fighting and will refuse to debase herself. To her, disgrace is worse than death. She must have refused the new Lord (and by “Lord,” I don’t mean God, or Jesus, I mean Lord, like mi’lord, an Overlord, a Chieftan), because she dies. The Daughter has her own ideas about things and moves independently of her parents. She is imbued with her mother’s proud and defiant spirit; this combined with her own fierceness, will make her a force to be reckoned with in the world. Her father will never worry about anything again. His daughter is the Rescuer.

I didn’t want to write an interpretation of this dream. Still, as in 2008 when I it came to me, I wanted to leave it alone. If you feel my analysis wasn’t particularly helpful, that’s okay. Just pretend I didn’t write it and let the dream-story stand on its own.

Show Wolves

I had pulled my ancient Chevrolet pick-up truck into the arena and parked it, preparing to load it with my cages. I had just shown my wolves at a fair, and they waited in their cages for me to collect them and take them home. I could not lift them in their cages. They were too heavy, and I was growing tired and frustrated. I struggled a long time trying to figure a way to get the wolves and cages into the bed of my truck. I decided to tie the wolves up in the bed so they wouldn’t be able to jump out. As I reached out for them to tie the rope around their necks, they yipped and leapt away from me. They started running around in circles so I wouldn’t catch them. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to take my wolves home, that I would have to leave them, or they would run away and escape. All I wanted was to secure them safely and take them home. I stopped struggling for a moment and leaned against the tailgate, about to cry. The wolves also stopped, watching me. One stepped closer and said, “You can’t contain Love. It won’t be caged or tied. And you can’t force Love to be with you. Have faith. Let go of your fears and insecurities and you will find Love will remain with you wherever you go.” I finally understood and decided to trust my wolves to come home with me. I walked over to the driver’s side door and opened it. The sound of its creaking hinges reverberated around the empty arena. The wolves all jumped into the bed of the truck on their own accord and settled in for the long ride home. I knew I no longer needed to worry about them jumping out or running away. They loved me and wanted to be with me. They would remain. It all worked out so much easier and felt so much better once I decided to release my fear of loss and loneliness and allow Love to be free.


I think this one is quite self-explanatory, yes? I had been feeling so lonely and dating had not been going well. I imagined myself dying alone in my house, an old spinster. My dead body would finally be found because someone would complain about the foul stench coming from my house. They would find me in my housedress, sprawled out face down on my kitchen rug with a wooden spoon in my hand and the dinner I had been cooking rotting in its pan, mice running around all over it. I didn’t want to live alone my whole life, even though I LOVE living alone. I had been desperately wanting someone to love. The longing for an attraction, a bond, for someone to notice me, was so strong it fueled all my thoughts. I would cry in the shower. I’m starting to cry now remembering how miserable I was then. Then the Show Wolves appeared and taught me an important lesson of love. I paid attention, I listened to them and followed their guidance. Once I released myself from worrying over a life of loveless loneliness, I felt content, at peace. I had peace in my heart. I will still probably die alone in my kitchen, half-eaten by my dogs before someone finds me, but I’m okay with that now. I have peace in my heart.

St. Teresa’s Osuna

My dad and I were in a library. He led me to a quiet, dark corner where he showed me a bookshelf that had broken, and the books were just scattered and laying in piles. He pointed to a green book with the word, “Osuna,” in gold letters on the spine. And then I heard that name repeated in my head several times, “Osuna…Osuna…Osuna.” I was also made aware of the Dhammapada lying on the pile. I didn’t know what “Osuna” was.

When I woke, I immediately looked it up. Just a name. When I added Dhammapada to the search, Francisco De Osuna came up. He was a 16th century Spanish friar and Christian mystic who wrote a series of books encouraging believers to foster a simple, Christ-centered, inner spirituality. His third book, The Third Spiritual Alphabet, is the most famous, and was a favorite of St. Teresa of Avila, my self-appointed patron saint. She was a mystic and writer and has appeared in three dreams of mine in the past to show me to believe in my writing and not be afraid to use the gifts God has given me. She mentions Osuna’s book and refers to it several times in her autobiography. She used it as a guide, and her copy is still at the Carmelite convent where she lived and died.

This dream came to me in the first few days of March 2014, while I was in bed recovering from hip surgery. I was amazed and inspired by it. It cannot have been anything other than St. Teresa using my dad as a guide to lead me back to where I should be, and showing me Osuna’s book to use as my guide to help me along the way. Just as she had done. I ordered it, and when it arrived, I was surprised at its heft, it’s over 600 pages! St. Teresa knew I would have the time to read it and refocus.

Remember your dreams. You receive messages, clues to guide you. If you remember them when you wake, there is a message for you. Who knows what will come of this for me. Probably nothing spectacular, but this was a message loud and clear, leading me to a calm, serene spirit as I draw closer to the Beloved.

The Trail Wolf

I became aware of something lying next to me. Its slow, rhythmic breathing gently rocked me, and its heat had been keeping me warm. I could feel it was something very large. I began the slow and deliberate rise to full consciousness, and when I was able to open my eyes, I realized I had fallen asleep on a forest trail. My arm was draped over a dark gray, furry beast that had curled against me. My heart immediately flipped over in my chest as a I started at the sight of an enormous wolf lying next to me! I was unable to move; however. It was as if I had been filled with lead and weighed as much as a marble statue. The wolf awoke with all the calm and patience of, well, I don’t know what! It took in the full sight of my face, clearly aware of my fright, and gently began to lick my cheeks. I still could not move, but I began to understand I had nothing to fear. He wasn’t tasting me; he was attempting to calm me. He continued to lick my face, and as he did so, his body began to make the most startling transformation. His wolf limbs and body metamorphosed into a grown man’s body. I became afraid again. I recalled myths of Zeus and how that ancient Greek god would transform himself into animals to sneak past his goddess wife, Hera. He wanted to be able to make love to mortal women undiscovered. This newly transformed being took the form of no ordinary man, but a powerful, beautifully formed and muscled adult man. He had the most gorgeous face with eyes that glowed hotly, as if a fire roared within him. I still could not move, my arms and legs were as sea anchors, keeping me pinned to the ground. Was this Zeus? For this creature was as great and beautiful as a god. Was I about to be raped? As soon as these questions came to my mind, the being transformed back into a wolf in an instant, as quick as a thought. He stood and took a few steps on the trail, then turned to look over its shoulder at me. He had a beckoning in his eyes. I tried to move once more and found I was free. I stood and joined him on the path and followed him along the trail into the woods. I followed him until I woke up in the blankets and pillows of my bed.


This dream took place later in 2006. I had decided to start dating again. At the time I dreamed of the Trail Wolf, I had been talking to a man who one of my friends set me up with- he was never married, had no children, lived alone… these were all pluses for me; I’ve not had easy or nice experiences with exes and kids. I could already tell through our phone conversations that we wouldn’t mesh well, but I decided to go ahead and meet him and spend some time in his “energy,” to see how that felt. It took all of an instant for me to know he wasn’t strong enough for me. I’m not arrogant or conceited, but I am fiercely independent and know what I want, or at least, what I don’t want. This man was like watered-down milk. I’m like tequila. I need a man strong enough to know me and love me, even if I’m hard to know and love sometimes. I would have walked all over that man without even having the intention of doing so. It would just happen. But before I came to that realization, before I could articulate it, I had the Trail Wolf dream. I knew I needed a man like the Trail Wolf showed me. I needed a strong, powerful, creative, blood hot with magic and mystery, able to be whatever I need him to be at the moment kind of man. Once I dreamed the Trail Wolf, I knew I would never settle for “watered-down milk.”

I met him, my Trail Wolf Man, four years later. We’re eleven years into it now and he has exceeded all my imaginings.

Your dreams show you what needs a closer look in your life at the moment. They are so specific to YOU, their symbology, their messages, their entire reason for being are only for YOU to understand. Only YOU will know what they mean to you. I never liked the dream symbol books. I had one, an enormous one with over 1000 dream symbols that were called “universal.” Sure, there are archetypes, symbols that can be understood the same way the world over, but I think looking them up in these books to decipher your dreams is a superficial, shallow way to understand the meaning your dream is trying to convey. You may not look further than the book’s definition, which is so generic…you’ll miss going deeper and understanding the true meaning of your dream which could unlock a profound and life changing realization for you. Recording your dreams is of utmost importance and I can’t stress that enough. You’ll find as you begin to write down your dream, its fading fuzziness will clear and come into focus and you’ll remember details you thought were lost upon awaking. If it’s a challenging dream, you’ll be able to come back to it again and again until, finally, its meaning reveals itself to you.

The Forest Wolf

Sunlight flickered through the canopy of leaves above, through the swaying treetops, filtering golden light onto my path. They seemed afire, the treetops, all red and orange and yellow, and now and then the wind would glide past and make their dying leaves loose themselves and flitter down in silence like gentle rain. The fallen Autumn leaves carpeted my path, and my footfalls made a mashing sound upon them as I trod along. I continued on this path, winding between pillars of Oak and Birch and Evergreen, and reveled in the fragrance of them with every deep breath. Scents of green, fresh, living things mingled with brown, molding, dying things. I could smell the rich and living earth beneath me, aromas of minerals and growth…it smelled like potatoes freshly pulled from the ground- nourishing. I walked, on and on, into the darkening, damp woods. The trees followed me, whispering to each other my progress on the path. I felt them close the path behind me, spreading their branches out, around, and above me. Perhaps sheltering me, perhaps trapping me. I felt they were still deciding what to do with me. A strange stillness fell around me, a hushed and suspended silence, a suspension of sorts… it seemed to me the Forest was holding its breath, wanting to reveal itself fully to me, but waiting…waiting for permission, maybe. I carried on, deeper into the shadows, swallowed further by the thickening woods with every step. I could not stop nor turn back. I would have to harness my mounting fears and hold fast to the trail. Dusk had fallen. The woods came down and around me, trapping me in a globe of darkness. My skin quivered at the chill wrapping around me. It would soon be too dark to see. Nevertheless, I continued along the leafy trail and promised myself I would be safe as long as I did not stray. I held my hands down at my sides and slightly away, feeling for branches and bushes sticking out into my path. As my hands and fingers groped in the dark, I suddenly felt something brush against me. It moved under my left hand, tickling me. I felt the heat from its body rising into my palm. I reached for it and felt coarse fur mixed with soft. Its muscles and bones rose and fell beneath its skin as it aligned its steps with mine. I could not see it fully for the darkness, but I knew it was an enormous and powerful animal. My intuition told me it was a wolf. I looked for its eyes and found them looking up at me, glowing like embers in a fire, like amber in sunlight. Suddenly, I knew him. I knew of him, I knew his past and present and future; and I can’t explain how I understood this, I just did. It was like being told a Truth I had always sought. He was there for me. I closed my hand into his shoulders, into a handful of his fur and held on. I let him guide me along the path. The way ahead was black, and though my eyes were as wide as they could be, I could see nothing around me, only blackness, only uncertainty. But the wolf was there, and I was not afraid. I knew I would be protected from any lurking harm and led somewhere safe. We walked together all night long until the forest began to fill with golden light again. A new day was approaching. Birds suddenly appeared, flitting tree to tree above our heads, chirping and singing their full-throated songs as they followed us. Deer fed on soft grass sprouting up through the fallen leaves, their soft brown eyes watching us with curiosity, then resignation, as we went by. They were not in the least afraid of the human woman, or the wolf, walking with her. We finally arrived at an opening and looked up at the sky, its blended hues of pink and violet and deep blue brightening by the rising sun at every moment. We walked to the edge of a promontory jutting out over a vast lake encircled by snowy-topped mountains. The lake was like a plane of glass, its surface mirroring its surrounds. I stood still, breathing softly, in and out, in and out, inhaling all the still, silent calm my eyes beheld. The wolf sat at my heels and leaned against my legs. I sat down with him and we both took our rest. I felt the power of the wolf next to me, the one who had delivered me from the dark forest, from my fear, and brought me to this place… this place that seemed the true home of our Creator. My spirit filled with Beauty and Light and began to overflow with the purest feelings of Love…it was almost too much for me to feel in my tiny human heart, I felt I would burst with joy. My wolf sat with me there until I awoke, curled and comfortable in the blankets and pillows of my bed.


The Forest Wolf dream is from 2006. Sometime before, I had decided to let go of my relationship with my fiance. He was in a terrible dirtbike accident in August of 2005 and sustained a traumatic brain injury. He was in a coma for approximately four months. He never fully recovered from that; he suffered short term memory loss and needed a feeding tube and another to help him breathe. He was always so surprised when I would tell him we were engaged. He was moved to his dad’s house once he was finally released from the hospital. It was about a six hour drive for me each way. I made that drive every other weekend for almost a year. It was so difficult. It all was so difficult and sad. I prayed and prayed and never felt closer to God in my life than I did during that time. He was a constant and comforting presence. With some nudging from those Higher Beings who know what’s best for me, I decided to stop making those trips and finally let him go, let myself go from that relationship that had no more future. I felt incredibly guilty, doubly heartbroken. I still carry some guilt about leaving someone I had loved so much when he needed me the most. But it had to be done. It was the only, and right, decision for me. I didn’t know it then, but I had been living in the shadows of depression. Not long after I stopped making the long drives to Northern California, I began to have “the dreams.” Now, I had experienced vivid and lucid dreaming all my life, but never thought to record them. I was so young and didn’t put much stock into my dreams. They must not have been so profound because I wasn’t yet ready to understand them. But this one, The Forest Wolf, came to me a few months after I left that relationship. It changed my life. It CHANGED MY LIFE. I understood a need for balance in my life and how all things move through seasons; times of life and death, times of light and dark, and no matter what, I must continue moving forward. I was given a powerful guide to see me through and stay with me to provide comfort and support, to show me that believing in love, in something greater than myself and holding fast, will lead me through the darkness in life to places of peace.

Look for similar symbols and images in your dreams. Begin to write them down and date them. Give them titles for they are stories, they are telling the story of YOU. They provide guidance, they answer questions. You can learn to dream this way. Before you fall asleep, ask yourself to remember your dreams, and to recognize when you are dreaming. This will help you become an active participant. Say something like, “Please help me remember my dreams tonight and allow me to know when I am dreaming so that I might actively take part in it.” If you desire an answer to a question, to gain some clarity on a situation, ask this, “Please help me understand what’s going on with (whatever the issue is) and show me a way to alleviate it. Also, please allow me to remember the guidance you provide.” Say this every night until you receive the help you requested. You must approach this without expectations. You must be patient. Most of all, you must believe. Be open. Be receptive. The dreams may be fuzzy when you first try, but they will sharpen into crystal clear images with practice.

Remember, Spirit doesn’t always give you what you want. Spirit is more likely to give you what you need.