This is an amazingly fresh take on dreams and their possibilities, both positive and “negative.” The idea is that there is a place, overlaying part of our planet, which only certain people called dreamhunters may enter; other folk just keep seeing the same view of earth, while the dreamhunters enter a completely different land. This Place is not mapped in the same way as we usually map things, by geological entities but, rather, by the type of dream which the dreamhunters can “catch” there and then bring back to share with others in places called dream palaces. While some of these dreams are nightmares, most are at least benign, while many are comforting, exhilarating, and/or healing. There is a second book in this “duet” called “Dreamquake”; I’ll review that book when I have finished reading it.

My recent experiences (with being released from work, and dreams which pointed me to my new kitten companion) remind me of a client I knew who had an amazing dream that changed her life: “I was riding around town in my father’s car.” Doesn’t seem like much, but I asked her what kind of car it was: “A Chevie Impala.” Knowing that an impala was an animal, I encouraged her to look it up in an encyclopedia: “An animal able to leap great distances to avoid danger, but only if it can see where it is going to land.” This was, basically, her father’s motto: “Never quit one job until you have a new one lined up.” She had been driving around in this car, this motto, even though her current job was sapping her energy, her strength, her joy for life. As soon as she read about impalas in the encyclopedia, she went and resigned, and within a couple of weeks she had her dream job. May we all be so blessed!

My wild and crazy minister (aka “the pagan pope”) and I were having an audience with the “real” pope, who was dressed very simply in a white robe. We were all sitting cross-legged on the floor, though the pope was raised slightly on a dais. My minister took out a pipe filled with marijuana, took a few pufffs, and handed it to the pope—as he did so, I placed my left hand on his back—who also took a few puffs. The air filled with smoke. At one point the pipe flared up into flames, but then settled back down to just smoke. I didn’t smoke, though I certainly got high from the smoke in the air.

Part of my “interpretation”: I am witnessing/supporting the integration of the free and structured aspects of myself, by sharing a “peace” pipe.

This dream has stayed with me for many weeks, and fills me with joy and a sense of freedom every time I think about it. I am always delighted by my minister’s freedom to be himself, and also appreciate a pope’s challenge to be himself within the constraints of his office and all of the expectations attached thereto.