The Sharks and the Mead

April 11th, ‘99 – I dreamed and dreamed, five dreams, some one, two hours long, real sagas, and they made the transition from darkness into light. The first one was in my family home constrained in the past with my mother and father, and all the confinement, frustration and emotion of years was compressed and augmented into this one dream. I lost my human prospect for love to my circumstance, watched as it slowly alienated him, and I lost him to my parents. I remember the explosions I had and explaining, precisely to my mother why her intervention is suffocating, and telling her at the last to leave me alone because of the harm. I was railing against my parents and coming to the end: I cannot live like this anymore. I found a new set of lyrics to new songs produced by Nick Cave, they contributed to and augmented my current state, they were already a part of it, so close I could not deny. I found them in the newspaper and I cut them out, and then when I picked them up to take them to my room and examine them closely, I looked at the sheets and the lyrics were gone, and I went to pieces. I had to have this. My body began shaking all over, I had a small wooden communion cup in my hand filled with sweetened milk, and in my hand the milk splashed everywhere, spilling all over the rug. I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t even clean it up. This was the ending to the first dream.

The only other part I remember was midway through the last dream. I was standing on a shale beach beside a lake rimmed with forested hills. The lake was calm and the sky was a mingled cloudscape with the sun glancing behind the rim of them. It was a vision sky, not unlike the moon sky, and I was holding onto the vision. I saw it in the same significance as the moon sky, but it was a more natural sky. What made it visionary was how the sun was playing with the clouds, shifting itself.


Chris, my math instructor, joined me on the beach, which was populous with swimmers and children. I was watching the people swimming; there were schools of small sharks out in the lake. Their fins were surfacing and they were forming into circles, and moving into the shallows where the children played. (I have a thing with sharks in my dreams that goes way, way, back.) The sharks showed no intent for danger or attack, but their nature was there, and they were mingling with the children. I immediately TPed the sharks, telling them to leave the people and go back out into the lake, and they obeyed instantly. This happened twice. Chris told me that the sharks mingling would bode trouble. I did not know if my power over them would maintain. 

Chris and I continued walking down the beach, and he was advising me about my career. He pulled out two examples of strong-minded women, and how they had integrated their spiritual path with their vocational one. The second one he told me about was an Asian American woman who had studied Biology in some relation to the study of medicine, and was working for a drug corporation in SE Asia. During her work she had diverted her learning into the study of Tibetan medicine. By reintegrating the principles of what she had learned, she had regained her spirituality, and reformed her working position so that it contributed to the better good. She was an integrated person. It was veiled advice for me to do the same.