By Analyn Revilla

The lilac season is very short. My room is suffused with its sweet scent. Lilacs have an allure with its delicate heads bowing to the ground in a humble curtsy. They remind me of childhood days in the cold north. I don’t know the physiology of these plants, similar to the bulbs of tulips and daffodils, that need the cold winter to hibernate. I look at the bouquet often even as I type words on the page. The cursor blinks and it waits to obey the next action.

Lately, I’ve been into analyzing dreams. I describe mine as fantastic. I think anyone who remembers their dreams would probably use ‘bizarre’, ‘strange’, ‘amazing’ when they put together the images and scenes that play out in their dreams. When I awake I’m curious to know what my dreams mean; are there messages being conveyed? I want to linger in bed and let it play out, but duty calls and I have to get up. I intuit that I could be missing out on something of value in my dreams, and I decided that I need to pay closer attention to it.

It was April in Vancouver and the lilacs were in full bloom. My dog Chloe and I walked on a street that had a generous hedge of lilac bushes. I wrote a poem that year called “Lilac Dreams”. Like dreams the lilacs were ephemeral, like the fog that sits on the lake. The moment is surreal, because it’s a tangible reality that lasts for a such a brief period of time.

So it goes with dreams. You’re in it during the REM stage of sleep which lasts maybe 3 minutes. Everything that happens feels real and has dream logic. One moment I am washing my face under the running waters of the kitchen sink and the neighbors can see me through the window then it changes. I’m sitting in a car with a girlfriend and we’re driving a slushy narrow road that we decide that we can’t travel on any further. So we turn back. I get out to direct my friend turn the car around. My feet are in the freezing cold lake and I have this magnificent strength to push the car onto the paved road so it doesn’t fall into the lake. Then another friend, a man, and I argue whether or not to continue on the motorcycle on the same road. There’s a tricky hairpin turn that forces the rider to glide into the opposite lane to navigate the way, but risks slamming head on with oncoming traffic. Plus the icy conditions will make it harder than it already is. I told him I’m not going to risk it. He said he’s going to go for it.

I’ve been researching dream symbols and this is what I’ve deciphered about my dream. People in my conscious life can appear in my dreams, and each one of them is an apparition of me. In my dream there was a woman and a man. They are the female and male aspects of me. The number 2 occurs in each scene. Two represents “the balance of masculine and feminine energies; or some balance in some area of life that is needed” (source “The Dream Book” by Betty Bethards). The kitchen is a work area where plans and schemes are “cooked”, and preparations for nourishment are made. There’s also a window which is the ability to see beyond a given situation – a view to the other side – “inter-dimensional awareness” (“The Dream Book”)

The feminine aspect intuits that we can’t continue the journey, so the decision is to turn back and not continue with the journey. A car is symbolic of the daily physical life and how it is used to manifest what I want. The course of the car is parallel to the direction my life is going. I am not behind the wheel so I am not in charge of the my life’s direction. A motorcycle means a need to have balance. The images in my dreams are symbols of a dialogue between my masculine and feminine aspects. My masculine nature decides to continue the journey despite the risks of the road conditions and the weather. My feminine aspect says ‘Wait. Stop. I’m not ready to take the risks.”

What context is this dream juxtaposed against? I’ve been seriously evaluating my career path and I’ve decided that I need a change and I need growth. My feminine side wants to be safe and it fears change; while my masculine side wants to bolt out and ‘go for it’ despite the limiting parameters.

This dream does not seem to give me an answer as to which course to take, but it examines the conflict within. So, I need to sit more with the decision and make the right choices with wholeness of being. How will I navigate this change? At times of upheavals I remind myself to be kind with myself by being aware of my feelings, being in touch with them and accepting them wholly. I need to balance both sides of me: one who wants to be a bull and charge forward and the other who wants to be bearish and roll with it.

The subconscious is like a winter scene where everything appears silent and still on the surface, but underneath it, there is the teeming subconscious – full of creativity. It flows and churns eddies of images. These dreams come to consciousness and my active consciousness is the tool to manifest them. I liken the lilac season to dream time. The moment is fleeting, and I have to be present and aware of the fruits they bear.