The Dream


Date: 01/29/2011

The other morning I woke from a remarkably clear dream and I knew that I needed to write down as much as I could remember. For whatever reason it felt important that I document the dream. Now, days later, without referring to what I dream journaled, the dream is still clear in my mind.

It was a warm, sunny day and I was walking down the path with Mike Burke (or at least it felt like him) beside me. We were talking about something inconsequential, and I was headed out to a chair on the lawn to get my hair cut. The man that met us was a big, burly, hairy man that reminded me extremely strongly of Thorafin. He sat me down, took my right forearm, and told me that he was going to give me the name of a place, and that I had journeyed to one of them. He needed me to tell him what place I had journeyed to and what impressions came to mind from that journey. He rattled off three names, one very Nordic, and it left a strong impression of being somewhat like Mjolnir, but not quite the same and about twice as long. The next name struck me as being somewhere in the desert. I don’t know where, I just know that I didn’t belong there. The third name had an Far Eastern flavor to it, maybe Chinese or Japanese. Again, I don’t know where, only that I didn’t belong there. The only one that felt right was the first one, and that was an instant recognition that was without question. I had been there and I belonged there.

In that instant of recognition I was overcome with a vision of a man, draped in a bearskin cloak, dressed warmly for the cold, snowy environment that he was trudging through. A couple of wolves crossed back and forth in front and behind him, in a combination of playful scampering and watchfulness. They were certainly companions of the man trudging purposefully through the snow. Evergreens reached up to the sky around him, and rocky outcroppings were here and there. In his left hand he held a thick walking stick, and while I couldn’t see the point I got an impression of a spear. Following along behind him was a sleigh or a cart loaded with baggage. He wasn’t pulling it, and I don’t know what was causing it to move. That was never clear in what I saw. He was walking with a purpose, clearly going somewhere, but his heart was free and he was enjoying the time spent on the journey. The thing that didn’t quite make sense was that part of me felt that the man trudging through the woods was me, yet I was clearly seeing him from a short distance away with the clear impression that he was somebody else.

At that point I snapped back to find the man who might have been Thorafin examining my arm and asking me what I had seen. I told him that I came away with the spear, the bearskin cloak, the wolves, and a metal strapped wheel as clear symbols from what I had seen. He nodded his head and said that it was time to figure out where to put the tattoo.

I woke up at that point.

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