My McGyver Moments

I have never given much truck to things which are rather ‘woo-woo’: things like palm reading or phrenology. Our hands get so mangled from use over our lives that it seems to me that it would be impossible to not have my fortune altered by some scar or other. And how can anyone make any prediction about me and my life based on ‘reading’ the bumps on my head? And there there’s tyromancy, the old and obsolete art of divining the future by the coagulation of cheese. Really? Or reading tea leaves. Sure.

I’ve had my horoscope cast and have, somewhere in my stuff, a copy of my natal chart. And I confess that I do read my horoscope. It’s sort of light reading while I’m eating breakfast. Very general and, to borrow from Shakespeare, full of sound and fury and signifying nothing. I remember reading my horoscope when I was in high school on exam days. If it was positive, then I thought that ‘ever little bit helps’. If it wasn’t then I didn’t worry about it. I knew that, to borrow again from Shakespeare, the fault would lay with me and not with my stars if I didn’t do well.

And then there’s the meaning of dreams. I’ve read books on the meaning of the images or symbols which occur or reoccur in our dreams: water, flying and the like. Some writers suggest that we should keep a journal beside our beds so that we can write down our dreams immediately upon waking. And I know that I don’t remember all the dreams I have every night. I remember only the last dream I have unless whatever dream I’m having is such that it invades my conscious mind and wakes me up. That’s what nightmares are.

I know that things which are with me are often worked through in my unconscious mind as I sleep. I trust that process. I know that if my unconscious mind did not have that strength and power, my conscious mind would be operating on overwhelm. And I know that I am a Quantum Biological Human™ being and that my body can process infinitely more information than my conscious mind could ever begin to grasp. So, it has not mattered to me whether I remember my dreams or understand what the story or symbols in any dream might mean.

That is until recently.

The dreams which I’ve remembered over my life usually have involved me being threatened, imprisoned, shut away, and not having what I need to live my life. I find it interesting that I’ve had the same dream or a modified version of that dream several times in my life. The story of that recurring dream was of being imprisoned and humiliated and guarded and watched AND I didn’t know what I had done wrong. Amazing to me how the beliefs, values and attitudes I’ve held about myself have even played out in my unconscious mind.

And a little over a week ago, I realized that the content that I remember of my dreams has changed. I don’t remember the exact content of the story of my dream that night or even the nights since. And I know that I have been the leader of a group and a participant at the same time; I’ve taken action on my own behalf to do what I’ve needed to do [whatever that was]; I’ve had all the resources I’ve needed in order to craft what I’ve needed to have in order to move forward; I’ve been able to adapt those things which were to hand and use them as I’ve needed to in order to create what I’ve wanted to create.

I’ve realized that what I know to be my personal truth, that I am curiosity provoking change, has become part of the fabric of the story of the dreams I recall each morning now. Who I know mySelf to be is reflected in my dreams.

I know at all levels of thought that who I know mySelf to be has fully integrated into every part of me – my higher conscious which transmits it to my unconscious where it is processed and which then moves information to my conscious mind which chooses.

And I’ve thought, “How MyGyver of me!”