There’s nothing more fun than taking on the subconscious body of my masculine shadow-self in my dreams. Good times.
Sometimes I don’t know if I’m calling these parts of my psyche back to myself, or if I’m being called to inhabit them from the inside. But either way, I get a moment to experience life through strange nocturnal eyes.
Following our unexpected meeting in the library of my mind mansion, I took on the persona of my shadow-self once again. Which technically is probably no longer my shadow, but whatever. Let’s keep things simple.
So this time around he…I was a news anchor for an early morning news show in New York City.
Someone just loves attention.
I noticed that my shadow-masculine felt a little more older and mature than the first time around, which honestly isn’t that surprising. The part of me that wears the gloves, drives the car, and creates intuitive order is integrated, so that influences this part of me too.
The setting of this dream speaks to the early 2000’s, with Al Roker doing the weather report. Instead of wearing a three-piece suit, I wore a dark dress shirt and trousers.
The dream drifted to the crowd of people outside watching the news show in the plaza.
I fraternized with the audience and singled out a nerdy young man with dark hair, long bangs, and glasses. He looked as if he could be somehow related to this body that I was in. He could have been my brother. But in any case, I held out the microphone to him. He was saying, “It was just roleplaying, and I really enjoy roleplaying.”
To be fair, the night I had this dream I had spent all evening playing a table top RPG with my husband and some friends. I rarely play those kinds of games, but I really enjoyed it. However, this random young man in my mind just kept chattering about how he loved roleplaying, like he couldn’t get a grip. He was like, monkey-mind personified.
As he talked, I also couldn’t help observing how cute he was. He was totally my type. But…something seriously needed to be done to just stop this guy from chattering and repeating the same thing. So while he was still speaking, I took his chin in hand and kissed him softly. On the lips. Although, he was a random stranger in the crowd.
Dear random, chattering young man of my dreams, I know you like roleplaying. There’s no need to say more.
When I pulled away, he was stunned. All he could say was, “Oh,” as he rested a hand on his mouth.
This inner rumination was shocked into silence. With love. It was such a relief.
And the newly achieved quiet was enough to reveal the real focus of this part of myself. I turned away from him and declared, “But actually who I really want to kiss is my wife.”
Then a woman with long dark hair, a sleek black dress, and deep black eyes appeared. She was very different from the previous woman of my shadow-masculine’s acquaintance, a light and girly blonde. Clearly, she was his/my feminine match (Although to be honest, she looked as if she could be related to him too. How scandelous!). I wrapped her in my arms and gave her a truly passionate kiss. All while cameras were rolling.
The journey of my inner feminine has gone full circle.
The following night I dreamed I was writing in a notebook. I wrote, “My inner masculine has long black hair and wears white lace.”
He’s no longer a shadow version anymore split from lunar and oceanic wisdom. He’s just, himself.
A lace-like web
The spider wove.
This dream was in anime style, which was quite unique. Also I knew the moment this dream started that the spider was my inner feminine, although nothing specifically told me so.
While she was weaving her web, my inner masculine appeared, this time as a dark haired young boy. The web shimmered with essence, and he started to freak out, saying to the spider, “Why are you using my energy?!’
At his words the spider paused and said sweetly, “I thought it would be nice if we made something. Together.”
Then he relaxed and said with a faint smile, “Oh.”
My essence was being poured into all kinds of different containers.
The color of it was a vibrant red, reminiscent of blood but too bright, more like a rich juice or ruby red wine.
After going through many different storage methods I was at last poured into two tea cups that were sitting on saucers.
I was sitting in the auditorium of a performance center. I wore a long, elegant, form fitting dress, and people kept approaching to talk to me. As much as I appreciated them, I was starting to find the attention a little tiring.
Then suddenly, my perception shifted, and I was no longer the woman in the chair but the person guarding her.
I was now wearing a black suit and my (signature?) black gloves, taking on a role that almost felt like being a protective butler. I gently told people, “Sorry, she’s not available right now,” and guided them away.
I looked over at the woman/my feminine-self and saw that only one person was left talking to her—a little girl. She seemed to be really enjoying the girl’s company, so I let her stay.
I took a seat next to feminine-me, and the girl sat on the opposite side of her, still chatting. As I took everything in, I was overcome with this deep sense of rightness. Everyone seemed so happy, and I was happy because I truly felt like I belonged here with this harmonious inner family.
I had found my seat.