There and Back Again: Identifying Personal Myths in Your Dreams
I originally drafted this article to publish on July 8th, but changed my mind.
Nevertheless, when I first drafted it, I wondered: What is July 8th known for?
One Hallmark holiday contestant is Be a Kid Again Day. I like that one.
Another is National Video Game Day. I like that one, too—if we’re talking about old-school arcade games. Once games became as ubiquitous as movies did with streaming, they lost a good bit of their magic for me. I lost my kid mojo for them, you might say.
Today’s article, however, is about the There and Back Again recurring content of our dreams, rather than returning to childhood or returning to the analog world.
I’ll share some of the patterns I’ve noticed in my own dreams as examples, so you can begin noticing your own.
It isn’t necessary to keep a detailed dream journal, although it certainly helps to jot down the basic theme of a dream when you can.
That said, you probably already remember themes that have appeared across your dreams over the years. And if you simply start paying attention for a week, you’re likely to notice recurring patterns surprisingly quickly.
While participating in a dream circle at the IASD Annual Conference, I shared a dream about a journey outward—and then a return to the starting point.
The dream began at a friend’s house. From there, we traveled to a resort-like Airbnb perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean.
Halfway through the dream, someone announced that we needed to leave the resort and return to the house.
I didn’t want to.
That dream contained at least four recurring themes that have appeared throughout many of my dreams:
Being “on vacation” or staying at a resort.
Traveling outward and then returning.
Being on the edge of the land, typically where it meets the sea.
A duo appearing, which I often interpret as representing two sides of myself.
This dream also contained a nightmare element.
To reach the Airbnb, we had to drive down an incredibly steep road.
To leave, we would have to drive back up it.
I remember thinking it looked like a 70% grade.
Going down terrified me.
The thought of climbing back up terrified me even more.
I’ve had many dreams where I’m driving up a hill like that and the vehicle suddenly topples backward.
Scary.
In the past I’ve also had recurring nightmares about:
Being caught in a deadly tornado storm. (I discussed this in Resonance of Place: Part 1.)
Being pursued by vampires. This occurred during my divorce, when I was experiencing panic attacks and struggling with a loss of identity.
Being pursued by zombies. This happened while I was working for someone who seemed determined to get rid of me because I disagreed with the direction he was taking our team. It reflected anxiety about losing my job—but even more, about losing my paycheck while buried under a mountain of debt as the economy slid into what felt like an apocalypse during the Great Recession.
But let’s return to the There and Back Again dream.
To me, it clearly reflects my heroic journey personal myth, beautifully captured by Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit.
It is the archetype of someone who ventures out on a quest and eventually returns home transformed.
Likewise, my personal myth of searching for a “real-world” Rivendell, which I discussed in an earlier article, also appears in this dream.
I also found it fascinating to learn that although my Sun sign is Taurus, an earth sign, my astrological chart contains several significant water influences—particularly Scorpio, Pisces, and Cancer.
And I know this about myself.
I love being where land meets sea. This dream had that element.
My preference is to stand on land looking out over the water, although being out on the water is enjoyable, too.
I’m drawn to coasts.
I love the whole Ports of Calling idea I discussed in Actively Imagining Sailing Vessel Delos.
A bonfire on the beach satisfies my Leo Moon (fire), Gemini Rising (air), and Taurus Sun (earth), while I enjoy the water only a short distance away.
The “dynamic duo” that often appears in my dreams—the ideal self and the sublimated self—is almost always a sign that further integration is needed.
I’ve dreamed of an old Wizard arguing with a Trickster figure resembling Puck or Robin Hood.
I’ve dreamed of pairs who resemble the dynamics of a Don Quixote and Sancho, or classic comedy duos such as Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis or Abbott and Costello.
One character is competent, noble, and composed.
The other is the lovable fool.
The interesting part is that these two personas are usually in conflict.
Or perhaps I’m identifying only with the noble one, while the fool represents a neglected or rejected part of myself trying to get my attention.
In the dream I shared with the circle, I was with the family of a close friend who passed away a couple of years ago.
We all traveled together to the resort.
My friend was already there.
He was very ill and unable to leave the bed in the Airbnb.
I was healthy, but I became concerned that if I stayed there long enough, I too would become sick and possibly die.
Again, another duality.
Another shadow theme.
So what do you do with this kind of insight?
You can begin to understand your internal conflicts and anxieties more clearly.
You can receive clues about what your intuition—or inner wisdom—may be encouraging you to do in your waking life.
Your mind-body is continually offering signals through dreams about what matters most.
You can also embrace a personal myth that reflects your deepest values and your dream lifestyle.
You begin stepping into that story more consciously.
There are many things you can do with dream material.
But I’ll leave you with this.
For one week, jot down the key images or themes from your dreams.
If you can do it for a month, even better.
Then look for the patterns.
You just might discover a golden ticket that unlocks the next important chapter of your life.