A Subconscious Mirror Image, Myself

A few nights ago, I had a dream. To be brief, in this dream I was hanging upside down, suspended by the left foot by a rope wrapped around my ankle. I was hanging against a wall from the threshold of a door, where normally a set of stairs would be constructed. However, past this threshold there was only a 90 drop to the floor below, and me hanging there.

When I awoke I recognized that the way I was suspended was exactly that of the Hanged Man from various tarot decks. The image above is from the Light and Shadow tarot, the most frequently used by me.

Just now, I finally got around to googling some information on the symbolism and interpretation of the Hanged Man. Those of you who know me know that I do not believe in chance, and that everything that seems like a coincidence is merely an opportunity presented by the universe to see through the veil of our mundane, over-rationalized experience.

Here is some of what wikipedia had to say about the Hanged Man. It is incredibly resonant with me, especially in light of my recent series of revelations.
The Hanged Man is a card of profound but veiled significance. Its symbolism points to divinity, linking it to the Passion of Christ in Christianity, especially The Crucifixion; to the narratives of Osiris (Egyptian mythology) and Mithras (Roman mythology). In all of these archetypal stories, the destruction of self brings life to humanity; on the card, these are symbolized respectively by the person of the hanged man and the living tree from which he hangs bound. Its relationship to the other cards usually involves the sacrifice that makes sacred; personal loss for a greater good or a greater gain.

Serenely dangling upside-down, the Hanged Man has let go of worldly attachments. He has sacrificed a desire for control over his circumstances in order to gain an understanding of, and communion with, creative energies far greater than his individual self. In letting go, the hero gains a profound perspective accessible only to someone free from everyday conceptual, dualistic reality.

post-date: 12/29/08

The skies have been drawing me upward. Their breadth sweeps over me like the universe is breathing into me. The clouds, the clouds absorb me into them, carrying me out of my so-called self. They are my greatest comfort here, followed by the stars. When they are low and grey and billowy, yet they sweep along on the wind, stretch and smoothed and shaped into new forms. The winds lift my hair and caress it as it passes, until it returns again. At night when I fall asleep, I cast my dream net out the window to lasso all the secrets hiding within the stars. I see many faces here in the trees. And the leaves are like a sea of earth crashing against their stumps. I can hear the divine more clearly here. It is quiet. All the unrest of the City has left me. I can hear my own thoughts, finally. I can feel my feelings, I can dream my dreams. I feel magic. I feel called. I make magic. I make myself anew. I feel myself feeling more and it finally feels real. And yet this is not the place for me to stay. Neither is the City. I am being called toward untouched forests, rich fruitful earth, fresh salty ocean water, clean clear mountain lakes, luminescent clouds, so many stars they crowd the sky, sun burnt stones, red clay river banks, the songs of birds and the expansive silence in which my precious divine reveals itself. I want to streak my face with mud, run barefoot over rocks and paths, become the great mother and take unto me the sun, my husband. I long to discard my symbols of status, privilege, achievement, and ambition. I long for silence and sit in repose with my equal. I long to wear the gems which my mother bestows to me from the earth, to run free and wild like a wolf, wind rustling my fur, the moon causing a shimmer across my silver coat.

mind over matter

It would seem I was the only one with the certitude to take that first treacherous step across the wire. One step at a time, I inched my way forward. I did not think about how far it was to the other side or how long it would take me to get there. I was exhilarated by the fullness of each moment, stepping forward out over the tightrope. There was never any thought of falling. One foot after the next, after the next, after the next, until solid ground reappeared. He, however, succumbed to fear before even lifting a foot off the ground. Overwhelmed by the seemingly monumental task of passing over thin air on little but a cord of wire, he failed to recognize the simplicity of merely setting one foot before the next. So my triumph is bittersweet, for I have no one to share it with. And now there is an expansive ravine sitting between us. Perhaps he will eventually overcome his fear and cross, or he will climb down defeated by his own doubts. Whatever the case, I will not be on the other side waiting.

"I will rise up"

I get it. There were some things I didn't like about you, either.