Love is the Weapon
January 20, 2010
by Jeffrey Pierce
With our class on dream interpretation under our belts, I thought I'd begin regularly sharing my dreams to give people a chance to consider the symbolism in someone else's dreams and hone their ability to interpret their own.
Last night I had five crazy dreams. Each time I would awake (and I'm finishing off a pretty vicious head and chest cold, so there was much awakening last night) I would almost instantly go back to sleep, rotating through the dreams, cycling through them again and again in order. Each time I would return to a particular dream, I would pick up where I left off.
Each dream began as something of a nightmare. Then, as the dream progressed, I began to find my own power. With this power in hand, I discovered that I could face my attackers, but in each dream the power had to be manifested differently to face the battle at hand.
With a duality that only makes sense from within a dream, the symbolism of my actions were mirrored on another level of my consciousness with more literal results. For instance, the task in the first dream could only be overcome by the Element of Air. In the core dream, this took the form of speech as I challenged the attacker with words and logic. On the parallel, symbolic level of the dream, my words became a single arrow, the wooden bow it was fired from richly patterned with runes and sigils.
The challenge in the second dream was overcome by the Element of Fire. In the dream, this was represented by passion, the forceful projection of my energy in an intimate, yet assertive manner into that of my enemy. I slipped into the space of the creature that had pursued me throughout the night, my body pressing against the monster, as I let them feel the full force of my energy and that it would not be swayed or chased further. Symbolically, on another level of my consciousness, I prowled around a circle drawn in the earth, always facing my attacker. On this level they had grown in size, more than eight feet tall and weighing several hundred pounds of raw muscle. They even grew a second set of arms, their body dressed only in a loin cloth, their flesh decorated with elaborate piercings. In this symbolic arena, my energy became a pair of daggers, their blades wavy and colored darkly with the colors red and black.
The third dream I simply moved out of the way of my attacker, mirroring the Element of Water. They would charge at me and, at the last moment I would calmly turn away as they crashed headfirst into a wall. On the symbolic level of the dream, I wielded a weapon I've never seen, more shield than blade. It was roughly the size of the seat of a wooden kitchen chair, shaped like teardrop with razor sharp edges. In symbolic combat, the flat of the "shield blade" was used to redirect the attacker's energy while its edges were used to strike.
In the fourth dream, I simply knelt, placing one hand palm down against the earth, and stared directly into my attacker's eyes, refusing to be moved. The creature would rush me, feinting in again and again only to pull up short and retreat. Finally, unable to move me, it dissolved into particles of dust and water and was absorbed by the soil. Fitting for a dream that required the Element of Earth. Symbolically I attacked the creature with a large warhammer, it's head made of stone.
The key to the entire sequence was the fifth and final dream. I was pursued by someone I know, the person bent on my destruction. However, in the final portion of this dream, I could see the energy that they carried with them, the pain, anger and insecurities that caused them to attack me. So I stopped, even as they stomped toward me, and I told them that I loved them. I told them they were beautiful. I told them, item by item, of all the good and wonder I saw in them. They stopped their attack, their eyes watering with tears, and then suddenly treated me as their friend - as if nothing had ever happened.
On the symbolic level of the final portion of the dream, I held a tiny silver shield, the whole barely able to cover my clenched fist, with a heart engraved in the center of shield. As the person attacked, I thrust the shield toward them, as if I was punching the air before their advance. But instead of striking the person, energy coursed out of the shield, blowing away the anger they carried with them as if it had been nothing more than baking flour before a strong wind.
It was then that I more fully understood love. That love is not simply a passive strength, but an active one as well. My final weapon was love - and the dream had shown me how to wield it.