Wedding Ghosts and the Enigma of a Recurring Dream

A Ghost Wedding in the Future leads to healing long buried Grief from the Past

Recurring dreams are rare for me. When they do occur, however, they return over and over and over again. They distract me from my daily real-life responsibilities with a growing obsession with efforts to determine just what in the world do these wild dreams mean? What did they mean back then? What do they mean now? And do the meanings of one person’s dreams ever represent anything for any other person?

Had a dream back in February 2020 as the COVID-19 Pandemic was spreading around our planet that recurred so often the dream haunted me even while awake. The dream was unusually short in duration and didn’t peel off into a reel of others. So often one dream would roll into another and then into another, each one a different dream yet all seem interconnected and linked together like books in The Bible. Perhaps what felt most intriguing and somewhat disturbing was what and who were not in this odd dream such as current partners. The dream felt more realistic and less fantastical, and it also felt incredibly prophetic. To come true, however, the events within the dream would have to go against the grain of current, on-going, real-life relationships. As it turns out, this dream unleashed a torrent of long-buried pain and, ultimately, resolution and liberation. My subconscious had to jack hammer it into my awareness more than five years after I first experienced this dream.

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Dream of crossing a desert with an ex-wife

Traversing the Past at the Future End of the World?

What does a dream of an attempt to cross a bloody damn desert with an ex-wife, on bicycles, even mean? I even told her, the ex, Kristina, as well as my current wife, Faithlyn. Neither had any clear answers. Is the desert itself the primary character, a huge clue hiding within the subconscious in plain view? Or merely the stage upon with old issues reared themselves in the form of avatars?

The dream:

From what I remember, my dream started out with Kristina and I riding horses in the desert but the horses morphed quickly into bicycles. Handlebars grew out of the horses necks, the horses morphed into simple, two-wheeled machines, and before we knew it we were pedaling bikes. The change felt strangely normal, mundane, as if we had been riding horses turning into bicycles all along. The transition from animal to machine was so bloodless and without protest it was as if accomplished by futuristic magickal sorcery or by self-programming algorithms. The bicycles were old-fashioned bikes without gears. While adult bikes, they looked childlike with glittery tassels twirling from our handlebars. We pedaled down between boulders beneath clear blue skies. Continue reading