Running with a Lion

Night before last, I had one of the most memorable dreams I've ever had. It has been a stressful week, so I partly attribute the dream to this fact. When I am stressed, I am very aware that my quality of sleep is different, and usually this encourages more fantastical dreams than I usually have.

I dreamed of a lion in a home that I shared with my mother, sister, and brother. The lion looked just like...well...a lion. He was a male and huge, but tame. In fact, he was in most of the dream sprawled out on the floor of our "den" acting like one of the family. The others rubbed his belly, and he was just eating up the attention. As for me, I really didn't want much to do with him since I was thinking--the lion's got to go. He doesn't belong. But, not yet ready to ruin everyone else's fun, I decided to leave, or I should say I tried to leave. However, every time I headed for the door, no matter how gingerly I stepped, the lion would see me, bolt for the door, and, like dogs always do, beat me there. At the door, he showed me much affection, jumping up on me. It's a wonder he didn't kill me with his weight. I had no choice but to return to my earlier act, waiting in vain for a chance to leave without his noticing.

I told a few people about this dream because it was such a strong one, its image staying with me after waking and even today. Everyone said the lion should be seen as an image of power. "So you like power, eh?" was the question I was asked. No, just the opposite. I tend to shy away from power as I do not like the responsibility or accountability. I'm always more than happy to let others have that.

Today, I decided to write about the dream in my journal since a few days of meditating on its meaning have been useful. I also reflected upon a book I've been reading, Man and His Symbols, by Carl Jung, et al. Jung has this, among other things, to say about our dreams: (1) they are as real as anything else, (2) they communicate needed messages to our conscious selves, and (3) they help us achieve equilibrium. As a result of reading Jung, I definitely have been paying closer attention to my dreams, and not only that, but I have also slowly been attempting to embrace the idea that what is beyond the natural, or beyond our consciousnesses is nevertheless real. I have been more observant, more open, and more introspective. And, in this way, I am feeling refreshed.

But back to the lion dream. Well, in fact, there was an earlier portion of the dream in which there was another animal, and I should say up front that I very, very seldom dream of animals. Jung says that animals are religious. I know little of animal symbolism, but certainly I am aware that the lion is an ancient symbol used by many different faiths and cultures. Universally, this animal at the top of the food chain seems to symbolize power. In my  other dream, however, I saw a skinned calf lying on the floor. It may already have been dead, but I knew that it was in fact going to be butchered, so I left the place where it was, turning my back to it, refusing to  witness the "sacrifice."

Jung wrote that we are capable of having dreams that contain ancient symbols. Even children have such dreams, and this fact seems to be proof for Jung just how deep our psyches, our souls or roots are. In my present life, however, it is very easy for me to see how the two parts of the dream communicate a message about turning away or escaping. In the first case, I wanted to escape watching a sacrifice and in the second the companionship of an animal who seemed out of place. Both dreams suggest rejection and fear, in the first case, fear of sacrifice, and in the second fear of power.

According to Jung, humans need balance. The conscious needs to be in balance with the unconscious. I can see how the two parts of my dream are a balance for each other, and I am open to the message that accepting power is in fact my required sacrifice. The tasks that the universe has set before me I must act upon. And, not only is the lion with me; we are aligned. His power is always available to me if I will just call upon him.

I never write about religion, not in my blogging anyway, and this is not intended as a religious message though I am Christian. Being open to other ways of thinking about our existence in the universe, I have read a bit on the place of animals in Native American cosmology. A few years ago, I went as far as to create for myself a medicine wheel. It's a beautiful object, which adorns the wall of one of my bedrooms. I haven't thought much about it since making and hanging it, so I definitely cannot say that I have felt the power of any of the animals I placed on it. It has become simply decoration. But, after dreaming of the lion, I thought of my medicine wheel, and, more generally, I thought of the whole concept of animal medicine, and I am embracing the idea that the lion, like other animals, has something to teach me.

Anyone who has owned a dog knows that it is wonderful to have them greet you at the door even when they jump on you. As I said earlier, the lion raced and beat me to the door and threw itself upon me. I have made much of this, but one idea that I wish to communicate here is that this dream of the lion teaches me that my (our) sense of time and movement is not superior to that of most animals. A dog will beat us running every time as will a lion. So, there's no point in trying to beat such animals; instead, we should submit to their power, what they have to teach us, and what they offer us. Even though the lion was faster than I was, what he really achieved was synchronicity. He met me at the door every time I attempted to get by him. He synchronized his power with mine. I understand this to mean not simply that I should accept his sense of time but that my life is ensconced by this larger time to which the lion belongs. In short, my life is attached to a larger order, and I am not on this journey alone.