Fire by Night Newsletters
January 2022: Dragon Fragments
Do you ever emerge from the haze of sleep with one tiny flake of a dream, maybe just a single image, phrase, or feeling?
What about you?
I hear a lot of dreams, but my glimpse into the dream world through your dreams is the tiniest shard of what’s going on collectively. I absolutely cannot claim that what I hear is representative on any scale. Still, I find it interesting that lately, many dreamers are telling me that they’re not recalling whole dreams like they used to. They’re reporting more fragments. And they are grateful for these, since they’re also remembering fewer dreams than ever.
Fewer dreams, and more fragments. Same here.
I'll offer a few fragments I have permission to share, and some quotations that help me value the fragments.
I’m looking out the window when the phone rings. When I answer, a deep, authoritative voice says, “This is Houston.” Immediately, it begins to rain.
Nothing but a color: bluebird blue.
I hear a sneeze so real it woke me up. I’m sure someone is in the house.
That whiskey is for the cat.
“… I remember what the unconscious wants me to remember, and if it is only a fragment, it is because that was the most important message of the night.” Joyce Rockwood Hudson, Natural Spirituality
Personally I like dream fragments. They’re emphatic, perceptive, exact. Puzzling, like koans. Piercing glimpse into the mystery, reflecting like broken shards of a mirror. They’re like dream haiku, rather than epics. I appreciate their brevity. They keep me on edge, not complacent.
I see a blazing ball of electric lightning-fire. Now I’m waiting for the thunderclap. I know it might kill me.
A woman with smeared eye makeup asks me: “Does something feel off in this house to you? Bad smell, or maybe a ghost?"
“Mishap is necessary,” says a voice.
“The dream fragment is like a little poem capturing the theme and message of the much longer ‘novel.’ Do not ignore your dream fragments.” -Jeremy Taylor
Maybe we can blame our altered dream recall on Covid (as we do everything else these days).
Maybe fragments are all we can manage?
Maybe these little miniatures are like urgent Morse Code messages flashed from the unconscious, alerting us to something timely and helpful, even necessary?
Whatever the case, we treat them with the same attention we'd give any dream: we name the feelings, we make associations to waking life, we dialogue with the images and characters, we create a mandala or start a collage.
Someone calls out, “Time for Holy Vocation Tech Drills!”
The exhilarating feeling of leaping like a cougar, from the haunches.
There is a pond which is also an eyeball which is also me.
"The dream is the small hidden door in the deepest and most intimate sanctum of the soul, which opens to that primeval cosmic night that was soul long before there was conscious ego and will be soul far beyond what a conscious ego could ever reach."
The delightful mosaic dragon at Nashville's Dragon Park is a study in fragmentary wholeness. Half of it is never to be seen!
The dragon reminds me that anything we dream, remember, tell, know, feel, or imagine-- is only a tiny fragment of what is. Even a whole dream is part of the More we will never know.
Wishing you memorable fragments of those deep dreams,
As always, I welcome the opportunity to talk with you in a private session. Email to plan a short conversation if you’re interested in learning more about how 1:1 dreamwork might be helpful for you. email@example.com
If you have any dreams that offer wisdom for collective healing and wholeness, I’d be grateful to hear them. Please send to firstname.lastname@example.org. I never share dreams without permission.
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