|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
There are many tales as to who and what exactly is the dream
weaver...some say it is neither a he or she but simply a spirit who
becomes embodied when ever there is need for a dream or story to set
things right...Some say the dream weaver is Areachne who is known well
by the Indians for catching nightmares in the webs she weaves and
removing the power in them. They invite her in the dream catchers they
weave to catch the bugs which cause many diseases which bring nightmares
with them. Some say the dream weaver is a moralist who was once Aesop's
mentor....but most know the dream weaver as a dream only....here
follows a few of the Dream Weaver tales.....
1998 © Ms Holly
There once was a child with whom the doctors were afraid would become
a terminal illness for the child had begun to not respond to anything
and was no longer eating. The doctors discussed this with the
parents and the parents finally agreed to bring in a psychiatrist to
help the child. The child had become so afraid the the doctors, all
the medicines, needles which caused pain, and the surgeries which he
had to have in the hospitals that he no longer agreed to see any more
doctors or go to any more hospitals. So the main problem was his
psyche or in other words how he viewed the medical practise which
was trying to help the child. The child had been recuperating prior
to becoming afraid of doctors, medicine, and hospitals but had lapsed
into a deepening regression of his illness after he refused to see
them anymore.
The doctors and parents had pretty much given up hope on the child
when the parents came across an article on faith and dream healers.
They were not considered to be traditional medical practitioners so
the parents were very very skeptical but as the child worsened they
began to try everyone and anything they could. But still nothing
worked. The child either became more frightened by the people who
came or did not respond. So the parents stopped trying and the
mother simply sat by watching her child slip more into being less
and less responsive.
One night when the child was having a particularily bad day - a very
young looking woman dressed in a nice outfit came by. She rang the
door bell and the mother came to answer. She began by introducing
herself.
"Hello," she said, "My name is Doctor Lynn. I am a doctor of therapy
of the psyche. I heard you were looking for help with your child."
The mother had lost all faith in everything and all that mattered to
her anymore was her child. She no longer wanted to subject her
child to anything her child feared and shook her head and replied,
"My child is too ill for help or hope any more. All I seek now is
less suffering for my child. Bringing you in would only cause more. There is nothing my child fears worse which brings on more agony than doctors. Sorry but no thanks." The mother closed the door and the woman stood there looking at her outstretched hand with her card in it.
Anyone who was walking down the street would have seen
the woman stepping away from the door and beginning to walk down the
street swinging her brief case in her hand slightly with her slight
swing as she walked. They would have seen her as she pulled out a
subway schedule...see the wind catch the edge of the schedule and
the woman trying to keep it straightened out that she had caught a
glimpse of herself in a storefront mirror. She had her hair tightly
pulled back in an austere but very business looking outfit with her
uniform jacket draped under her coat on her arm. She was carrying
rather clumsy looking but functional brief case and a very
unattractive rather large clumsy looking brownish black drab colored
bag.
The young woman stopped and looked at herself...and her time worn
face with the slight wisps of gray that came too often in a young
person's life when they lead a busy demanding schedule with little
time to think of their own personal needs. Then after stopping for
awhile to stare she continued on down the street and down into the
subway.
Later that evening a group of rather brightly dressed young people
were walking down the street singing, playing instruments, and
laughing as they went along...They stopped outside the window of the
child's room. The child who was barely there spiritually or
physically began to hear the music and laughter. The child sat up
as if entranced by the good sound of laughter, music and singing.
The child got up wandered slowly to the window as if drawn to it by
a spell and opened the window to hear the music.
The mother came out the door and said loudly, "You need to leave with
your rucus I have a very ill child inside who needs rest."
The child leaned out the window and said as loudly as the child could
which was not much more than a whisper, "No mother invite them in
so I can hear them."
The mother looked over in astonishment as she had not really seen
much of a response from her child in a few days and feared for the
worst. So she invited the group of singing laughing people right
in and brought them to the sick child's room.
When they entered the room
the child asked, "Play a song for me will you."
They all looked at each other and talked a minute, "Well tis
tradition of old that whomever we play for feeds us with good food
and fills us with good drink...for a good musician never works for
free. Most at the least sing for their supper." They all laughed
at it the child looked at the mother and she left the room. The
musicians began to sing and play their instruments. The first song
they sang was this one... Down came the rain and washed the spider out Out came the sun and dried up all the rain And the Itsy Bitsy Spider climbed up the spout again They went on to sing songs about not giving up hope, of trying again, of great warriors and villans. They sang songs about love and compass ion. All very short and lively. As they were singing once and awhile one of the group would stop to eat or drink...Eventually the child sat up and reached over and began to eat and drink the food too. Then all the singers began to put all thier instruments up as it was growing late and they had a Renaissance Festival they were suppose to be at soon. The child lay down and began to rest. When everyone had started to leave there was one very very attractive woman who had sat to the side through most of it. The mother looked at her and thought this one looks vaguely familiar but in such a large city anyone could have seen many many a person and remembered them vaguely. The mother asked the young woman, "Well aren't you going with your friends?" "Oh I will catch up with them later. I am not a musician I am a dream weaver which is often called a story teller and I tell my stories at a different time. I can stay for a little while if you would like to tell your child a story." she said. The mother looked at the child. For the first time in months the child had some color in its skin and was smiling. So the mother smiled and nodded in agreement and sat down to listen. The young woman looked at the child and said, "I see you have a great fear what is this fear?" The child looked at her and said, "I have terrible terrible dreams at night that chariots come to my doorway to take me away...I am terrified for I see the faces of my family and doctors driving the coaches. There are horrid horrid terrible huge horses on the front that make terrible terrible sounds more like monsters than like horses." The dream weaver looked at him and said, "I know of these chariots they have been here forever. They belong to the realm of darkness... and I am sure you never see them in daylight...so let us keep a light on so they will not come while I tell you who they are." This is the tale the mother was heard to tell that she heard. "Once long ago when man was still young there were a great many people who lived on the edge of the night who drove terrible chariots of death drawn by night mares...the most horrid of horses imaginable. And Death or Hades as he was once known drove the worst and most fearsome team of nightmares . They would try to scare the souls out of people so they could capture them and enslave them to work in the pits of the mines of Hades for the gold of the Gods they so loved. Stealing souls was a terrible task and a tiresome one. So they began to cast spells of great wickedness that would cause anyone to give up hope. In these days they are known as sickness and disease but in those days they were know as soul capturing spells. The objective was to make a soul give up when in pain and misery to curse the very goodness with which their essence was made of...or to scare them into loosing faith in all that is left that is good. At one time all of these were a great good and noble group of spirits who seemed to have forgotten that by being a good group who worked together and lived in harmony they would progress and grow stronger. They had lived where they shared and cared in harmony almost forever to the point they had forgotten all about the strife. When all of a sudden there was found a spirit who did not like to share or care...who was indeed very very selfish...and no longer wanted to be a part of the order and tranquility. It was not so bad a thing that one was not happy with good things but what was worse is that one once great spirit stirred up dissension and unhappiness with the views the spirit presented. Such that eventually the dimension of the immortals was divided. As the ones who believed in divine individualism grew more and more self involved and more and more antisocial there began to form a great divide between the two groups. So great in fact it eventually split. There was nothing that those on the other side could do for what was not ordered calmness and tranquilty was not a part of the dimension they belonged to. So the others became a part of the dimension of Hades a dark and pitiful terrible empty place. As they became weary of much suffering and had to endure things such as work which they had never experienced in life for they had lost much energy by no longer being a part of the spirit of great goodness they began to steal the souls, bodies and minds of the unwitting to enslave for their own purposes. For those who suffered from the same mental illnesses they fell easy prey to the Chariots of nightmares. Since I have seen many a person loose their fight to the chariots of nightmares I will tell you a few of the things that will keep the nightmares away. You must always be very very good and share things that are good with others that you learn that will help them and your world. This is a power they do not like to feel and fear because they have forgotten it. You must always think good thoughts and say good things as these drive away the chariots of nightmares away for they fear what they have lost and no longer remember it as the beautiful pleasant thing it was and still is. You must eat good things which build the body and the soul...by this I mean good food that is filled with the light of the sun and read good books filled with good knowledge. And most of all you must never be in darkness if you can help it for long...and by this I do not mean the darkness of night it is the darkness of life and the soul. Now I have to go now but I will be back if and when you need me...or a friend will come by now and then." The brightly clad young woman got up and was leaving the room...She turned to the mother and said, "But for now let us leave the lights on for they fear light too not just the light of the soul. And if your child's light is flickering the light will help the child keep the shadow realm out of this room." The mother nodded in agreement and was walking with the woman to the door, as she went out the door she turned and handed her a card. The mother stared as the woman strolled lightly down the street. She was familiar to her from somewhere...then looked at the card. It had written on it in bright elaborate script. Etc. Etc. Etc. Book of Healers Reference Center Summon us anytime. The young woman or her friends came by occassionally when the child was having a difficult time. Eventually the child got so much better that eventually rarely visited.
|
|---|
