Butterflies and Battleaxes

"Circe" by Wright Baker

I’ve been doing some research since I had the dream of the stone woman with the battleaxe, and as I suspected, there’s a lot of historical/mythological precedence for what I saw in my dream. The earliest references to women with battleaxes I could find traced back to Paleolithic cave drawings of a Mother Goddess figure holding a double-headed axe, also called a labrys, which was about 2000 years prior to a double-headed axe ever actually being constructed (that we are aware of, anyway). Then, in Sumeria, a similar Mother Goddess often depicted with a double-headed axe was worshiped, with the axe coming to represent—through its symmetry and similarity in shape to the butterfly—feminine powers of transformation, renewal, rebirth, et cetera. Next reference to an axe-bearing goddess was that worshiped by Minoans and later the Mycenaeans, and who was likely the antecedent of Circe, the island goddess who transformed Odysseus’ men into swine. I always did love that story. So. I guess I know what my ‘C’ was from. Circe.

I’ve got some more meditating to do this weekend, it would so appear.

After my research, I came to a few teensie conclusions regarding my dream and its potential meaning. First off, I am basically on the right path, but I pretty much knew that already. You can only draw so many Star, Sun, and Chariot cards before the message starts to sink in. I swear at least one of those three comes up in every reading I’ve ever drawn for myself, regardless of what I ask. Secondly, while I’m heading basically in the right direction, I need to focus a little more on the regenerative and healing properties of Water. All of the rain, I think, was a sign that I need more Water-influence in my life to balance out the Earth and Fire in me. As for the bike riding, it surprised me that in my dream I felt so comfortable with it, despite the bad weather. I’m terrified of riding a bike. Ever since I broke my arm riding one, or rather falling off it after my third-grade self wondered what would happen if she hit both brakes simultaneously while riding really fast down a steep hill (answer: fly over the handlebars, get knocked out for a few minutes, wake up 15 feet in front of the abandoned bike in the middle of the road with a broken arm and profusely bleeding chin), I’ve just never been able to bring myself to get back on one. I’m too scared I’ll fall again. In general, I became a lot more cautious after that incident. Don’t get me wrong, I love cliff diving and all sorts of adrenaline rushes, but I will not be the first to jump unless I’m absolutely certain the water is deep enough at the bottom. Calculated risks. That’s what I take. Bikes? No longer included in that category. Incidentally, neither are serious relationships. And that’s what I think my riding a bike in my dream, not once but twice, was a call to do: get over some of my fears. Jump in the water, not knowing about the depth. Grow up. Let go. Move on.

This also wasn’t the first dream narrated by a calm, male voice. I’m pretty sure it’s been the same voice in all the dreams, which I find interesting. There was one in which I was sneaking through a medieval-esque city, and the voice was telling me where to hide and which roads to take. Then there was another dream in which I was giving birth in what felt like a past life, and the voice was reminding me that I had to protect my child, because the village feared witchcraft and would try to take my baby. I remember seeing my husband then, and he smiled, and I knew everything would work out. Oh, dreamland. How I love you (says the girl who tends to only have ridiculous, adventure filled dreams).

Obviously much of the dream was merely a product of my unconscious brain digging up things that had been on my mind lately, one of them likely being my friend Apollo who appeared in the forest section. In my political philosophy class, we’ve been reading a lot of classical writing, some of which I once translated from Latin into English back in high school. Thus, I’ve been reminded a lot this whole semester about Latin classes and high school, and Apollo took four years of Latin with me. We were always in the same class for it, and were usually translating buddies. Thus, I’ve been reminded of him even more than usual as we do talk pretty regularly, so I’m pretty sure that accounts for the parts of the dream where I was in high school or talking to him.

Thus ends my dream analysis. Enjoy your weekend! I’m sure I’ll enjoy mine.