I retrieve sitting down on my grandma’s ample soft bed, watching her compose in a melted, had on out notebook; squenched, little melted lips and her eyes kept out air-tight, retrieving a dream she had daydreamed the night before
“What are you doing, Grandma?”
“Quiet child! I’m going back to the dream world for just a few minutes. Interpreting my dream, see?”
Sitting as quietly as any kid could, breathlessly anticipating the moment she would open her eyes and smile heavenward, “Ahhh. I understand. Thank you.” A few moments more of concealed scribbling and then we would get down our day together.
At the time, the little ritual felt sacred. I could not inquire her about her secret dreams, or how she cognized how to construe them, but my curiosity for much matter was intense at times. As the years went through and I matured a little older, I also went bolder if not wiser.
“Grandma, I had a dream last night,” I tossed out, ever so matter-of-factly one day. The lift in her little pursed eyes stated me even then that she was on to me, but she gratified my cleverness.
“You did? Tell me all about it. I construe dreams, you cognize,” she evinced, cognizing afloat well I already cognized this. I would state her my dream with all the drama and gusto I could rally, and she quickly interrupted it down.
“It doesn’t matter who you dream about,” she began. “You are always everyone in your dream. Whatever you think of whatever person you see or meet in your dream, are facets of you.”
On average, Grandma used to have four or five dreams every night that she could remember. She called some of them “brain flatulence”, some she called “premonition dreams,” but her favorites were called the “knowing yourself dreams.”
“Usually my dreams are ‘knowing yourself dreams’,” she recalled.
Grandma never let me in on her secret of interpreting dreams until the time I bought her a book I believed that she would enjoy. I don’t cognize what I was thinking.
Grandma cooed over the purple tulip wrapping paper containing the dream interpretation book, and I felt rather pleased with myself that I had chosen a gift for Grandma that no one else had; of course, I did have a reason for choosing the gift. It was all in my plan, see?
When Grandma tore away the last remnants of the wrapping, her small blue eyes, not entirely unexpectedly, transformed instantly into large black saucers.
“What is this?” she necessitated
When the title of the book registered, her eyes narrowed and her gaze resembled bullets aimed at, well… you can imagine. The room appeared to shrivel as Grandma gazed at me in frozen silence.
“I thought you would like it, Grandma. I thought you would like to scan what other people thought about dream interpretation,” I innocently pulled strings.
“Why would I want to do that, dear? I know what I’m doing and I learned from a master: my own grandma.” She passed the book to me, angry. “Bethie, I don’t necessitate this.” Then, her tone dampening suddenly, I cognized my plan had worked. “It’s about time that I instructed you how to construe dreams like my grandma did for me.”
I discarded the ‘offending’’ book and eagerly pulled up a chair
Grandma called her methods the old fashioned way.
“Sometimes the older way is the best way,” she stated. “When you dream about an animal, for instance, think about what that animal means to you. If you dream of a snake and you are acrophobic of snakes, then you are acrophobic of something. If you dream about a snake and the snake appears educated to you, then you are having knowledge of some sort. You see?”
Grandma taught me that there are some universal signs in dreams as well, signs that will have the same meaning for many people. “Water,” she stated, “is usually your feelings. If you are submerging in a dream, it usually means that you’re overpowered.”
“You really have to completely take a dream apart and put each piece in its own category in a notebook.
“First write out your dream, just as you saw it. And if you can, draw an illustration of the dream as well. Once you have it on paper, get down with the apparent parts that you already cognize has a meaning for you.”
Grandma’s example: Let’s say you dream about climbing a tree and there is a cat up in the tree. The cat meows at you and you think it wants down. The tree and cat are on a college university. The cat scratches you and you wake up up
According to Grandma, look first at what you know is currently happening in your life. Is there anything troubling oneself you at work, or are there some questions and have you been inquiring what the answers could be? What does the tree or a cat intend to you?
In Grandma’s old world dream interpretation, a tree to me means growth and a cat means secret knowledge. A college would be a place of larning to me. A cat rubbing me, even though it seems like a sorry thing, really isn’t. The cat (classified knowledge) made contact with me; I am maturing from this (tree) and I am learning.
If you want to know more about yourself, interpreting one’s dreams is a good springboard. You’ll soon get the hang up of it and you’ll happen yourself excited to wake up up in the morning, foreseeing ― like Grandma did ― composing down your dreams. There are answers in dream interpretation that are only for you
Grandma showed me that I can learn many things about myself through my dreams. She also instructed me that dreams are ad hominem, and are intended only for ourselves. There is the infrequent premonition dream in which everything is crystal unclouded, and can even finger like it is happening in the tangible world. Dream interpretation is antithetic for everyone, but my family relies on Grandma’s techniques
One quiet afternoon, years after Grandma had passed on, I stumbled upon the dream interpretation book I had gotten her as part of my ‘plan’’. I happened to notice that it appeared quite had on, and when I opened up it to the first page, she had scribbled some notes about how it would be better to construe it her way.
She had written comments throughout the entire book, practically on every page, but despite this, it was clear that she had made a kind of peace with the book. It was on the last page she had composed: “Dreaming is like art interpretation. One man sees an aesthetic countryside in the artwork, while another sees a disconsolate field; but both of them have the proper to their personal opinion. Whatever works best for both interpreters is close-grained with me, but do take heed to your Grandma, Bethie.” Spoken in truthful Grandma Fashion, I evinced, shutting the book. As the covers met, I picked up a whiff of her perfume as it blended with the dust particles drifting, unreal, past the dropping afternoon sun.
Beth and Lee McCain live in beautiful Oregon with their four children. Beth and Lee are instructors and lecturers on utilizing the Law of Attraction for many years. For more information, delight visit: http://www.bethandleemccain.com
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