Fury

In dreamtime I am in the shadow level of emotional distress. We all know that place. It is night, or otherwise dark. I am at an intersection or crossroads. For me in the dreaming it was Yale and Central in Albuquerque. I have stood at that intersection waiting for the light to change to begin my first day at the university many years ago, or with my little son jumping around in agile joy. I stood there in labor with my daughter. I've stood there more recently in an anxious cloud because a negative force is chewing up the beloved program that has been my teaching home for the last three years. I may be forced to leave. At that intersection are many levels of memories and awareness, not just mine but everyone who carries attachments there. They stack up and interact. Past, present and future merge and nudge.

In the dreaming I am assisting a young woman in escape. We move about the shadows. Then I watch a man with so much rage he’s literally red, running toward us. At first I think the man is the one we're escaping. It's not him. This man is small, wiry and running hard at us. I appear to be the object of his fury. He leaps to attack me. I do not react. I have made myself absolutely calm. His wild, red form goes through me without a quiver. He's surprised,too, there was no reaction on my part. He becomes himself again. And as he transforms he apologizes for being overcome by Fury. Fury stalks off looking for someone else to attach to, to gain energy from, to suck.