Shifting Shapes and Flying Dreams

Shifting Shapes and Flying Dreams

Love is never what it seems


(I’m donating a percentage of all my October download sales to Turpentine Creek Big Cat Rescue, as part of the 2014 Online Studio Trick-or-Treat!)

Today’s post is about a dream I had one night last week.  If shape shifter magic and fairytales fire your imagination, read on. 🙂

I’ve been having really vivid and nifty dreams lately.  In them, I’ve seen old friends who are no longer in the physical world, I’ve used magic to help open a few minds and have seen the positive effects of same, and I may have even broken a curse.  The dream with the curse in it actually caused me to wake myself up crying- that’s never, ever happened to me before in my life. (Charmed existence, right? No doubt.) It wasn’t that the dream was incredibly traumatic or sad. It just hit my dream self in all the right places.

In this dream, I was outdoors, helping friends with some sort of photo shoot or rehearsal or flash mob or concert or event. There were crows about, carrying on, as well as a few gray and white pigeons whose feathers were mottled from beak to tail. I thought they looked unusual, but I was mainly focused on encouraging them to stay away from what my friends were working on. At some point, I noticed that one of the pigeons and one of the crows seemed to be allies. I approached them, and they didn’t get spooked by me. I quickly came to understand that they were in fact shape shifters who’d been trapped into a certain set of forms. They were a brother and sister who started out human, but had been cursed pretty seriously by someone. They could never again both be in human form at the same time, and things had been this way for decades. The sister was in her seventies.

They were limited to these pairings: woman and raven, woman and dog, crow and dog, pigeon and pigeon, or pigeon and crow.  The brother had no option in these pairings to take human form at all.  Ever.

The sister told me that the main reason the curse had lasted for so many years was that no one had taken the time to listen to their story. I was the first person who had. This was what brought both my dream self and my physical self to tears.

It may not be so simple, but perhaps I broke a curse in my dreams that night? I hope so. Sometimes tears are said to be magical, and listening should be too, I think.  My sharing the description of this dream has already sent one fellow songwriter running for her notebook.  If this fires your creative engine and you want to write or create something about it, please go for it.  Run with the story.  It can’t help but do good, I think.  There’s no telling how many curses we might break, here.