Dream: winning arguments with my parents

last night, then spent the rest of the night trying to remember it so I could write it down in the daytime.

I came to a meeting with my birth parents. They were all ready with their documents, as it was a meeting they had orchestrated. There was an audience of some sort, and they were all ready with their “questions” for me. Yet from the very first moment, I was in complete control, and all of my answers more than vindicated me from their accusations, but they shone a light on who they were.

It was a profoundly strong and validating dream. I wanted so much to remember more of it, but it remains now only in snippets.

“Why would you go so long without contacting us? Why would you cut us off from our grandkids?” My birth father asked, in a way that was meant to shame me. He was expecting me to find a way to explain myself in a way that would appease him, to try to find a way to keep the peace, as I have done my entire life. He was feeling very confident, feeling like I could not possibly explain myself to his satisfaction. He thought his question had won. He was wrong.

“I cut you off because you are the worst person that I know on a spiritual, emotional, physical and relational level.” I said simply.

He didn’t reply, but I can very distinctly see his face. What do you mean?! His face said, as he tried to comprehend what I had said. It was completely unexpected, and he could tell that I thought it was completely true. Why aren’t you trying to appease me? He seemed to be thinking as he followed me into the room.

My mom was there, ready. “On page 120 of my list of offences, I wrote that you had sinned against us by…”

I stopped her, making a sound of disbelief. “You have a 120 page document of offences that I have committed against you?!” She cleared her throat nervously. Actually, it’s longer than that, this is just halfway through… She was thinking, feeling mildly ridiculous. “But the Bible says ‘love keeps no record of wrongs.’“ She glanced down at the long, flowing scroll in her hand. She went ahead with her accusation, and I answered it deftly. Then another, and another. These things are not true, I am not in the wrong. In fact, “My mentors and friends are twice the man and woman that you ever were. That is why I have chosen them over you.” I said that to their faces.

I did not fear my dad. His face was perplexed, confused. He didn’t know what to make of me. I did not sense any danger from him, only confusion. My mom kept scrolling through her reams of paper, but none of her accusations made any sense. Everything they tried just gave me a chance to respond, and every response I made was filled with power, conviction, and light.

There was an audience listening, and they were all in rapt attention of what I was saying.

It was over too soon, and it’s like that was the first session in a lecture I was presenting. I was back in our dorm with the family, and I think I must have woken and gone back to sleep and promised myself that I would remember the dream, because I have a series of dreams with the theme of trying to get back to a certain place.

I was trying to cross a river to get back to the lecture hall, but one of my kids started floating away in a boat, and I had to rescue him. It took so long, the lecture might be cancelled. Then I was trying to find my way through a city, and my wife told me to follow the train tracks. But the buildings and tunnels lead me away and I could not find my way back to the destination.

The wonderful dream was fading.

But really, the specifics don’t matter. Probably, if I had woken up immediately and wrote them down, the specific things that I said would turn out to be gibberish or nearly so to my waking mind. This is the way with dreams. But what I do remember is the strong sense of having the answers, and not being intimidated by my parents. Rather, I was able to come into their space, in front of an audience, and absolutely own the confrontation. There was nothing that they could say to me that I could not answer: and the confrontation left them reeling and confused while it gave me strength. 

In a later dream, my birth mother had e-mailed the 120+ page document to all of our friends. This was a slightly more troubling dream, but I had the same sense of energy as I sat at my computer, thinking of a short one or two paragraph e-mail that would cast her accusations in a negative light and vindicate us.

***

I do not intend to take my fight to them. I would never consent to this sort of a meeting with them, or orchestrate such a meeting.

However, it is fascinating to see how much my dreams have shifted. Some of the shifts I notice here are:

1. Rather than melting or trembling before my birth father, I stood up to his face and told him what he least wanted to hear
2. Rather than fearing the worst from my birth father, I allowed him to stand behind my back and feared absolutely nothing from him
3. Rather than a witch who could “cast spells” on me, or a terrible manipulative force, my birth mother became a ridiculous figure shuffling through papers and incapable of making coherent sense
4. Rather than feeling all of the emotions of fear, I felt like a victor in a fight: strong, head held high, glowing, like I could do no wrong
5. Rather than fearing the opinions of others, I gained energy from their presence

I feel that my subconscious has really come a long way from where I was only eight months ago.