Dreams of Water

I have dreams of water that tell of things to come. Since October when I was getting shuffled around from one specialist to another, my dreams of animals and houses, too, gave me information that helped me to cope with the confusion. But my dreams of water--and the more specific wave dream, as it's called--always foretells of change. Last night, I had such a dream.

I want to tell the dream, but before I do I should say that I discovered through my therapist and some research online that others have wave dreams that also always foretell change. The changes that arise are universally among wave dreamers of major importance. I remember reading about one women whose wave dream foretold her unexpected return to prison from being on probation.

My last major wave dream happened two days before I was diagnosed with cancer.

In my dream last night, I was in a mobile home with my mom and my sister that was parked in a state park with pine trees all around. A huge storm was kicking up outside with thunder and hurricane force winds. I opened the door to see a large ill-formed funnel cloud angled across a mottled black and gray sky. I suggested we flip over the couch and get under it to protect ourselves in the collapse. We did and underneath we clung to each other fearfully, forming a hug circle. The mobile home began to toss as flood waters I knew were clear and clean washed the mobile home down a gully through the trees. The tornado winds struck the sides of the home, condensing it to the size of a pop-up trailer with nothing popped up. We floated on a while longer in this cocoon-like RV, then came to rest at a patch of dry earth behind a cabin. But beyond the cabin, the flood raged on, washing everything on down. We were saved.

In dreams like this, I've learned to look at what is different to understand what it's telling me. Usually in wave dreams, I'm alone and, if there are others, they don't see the flood waters or the wave coming at them. Since my mom, my sister and I huddled under the couch together in a hug, it's clear that I am not alone at all, but supported by their love. Also, the flood does not injure any of us in any way. We don't even get wet. A dangerous collapse threatens us, but we remain safe because of my suggestion to get under the couch. But, also, the mobile home helps, too. It is a rather flexible home! The water is clear, which usually means healing. Therefore, the dream is clearly telling me something scary and unbelievable is going to happen, for which I'll have the support of my family, but I won't be harmed. In the dream I had before the diagnosis, I was almost washed out the door. Only my cat did not survive and was washed away as I saved just my dog, which I held in my arms. This time I held my mom and sister in my arms, but not because water or wind threatened, but for emotional support. This is also significant because the night before I dreamed again of my mom and my sister. Family, once again, is so important to me these days.

I wonder what the scary and unbelievable thing will be that happens in the days to come?