Defiant Wisdom

Tag: emotional evolution

Narratives that track growth, reframing, or psychic maturation — often after rupture, confusion, or self-reckoning.

  • Mea Culpa

    Mea Culpa

    The Dream

    Accessory
    to murder.

    Many years
    ago.

    The weapon
    gone in amnesty.

    He was a
    wrong’un.

    Thief!

    She harbours
    truth,

    decency
    and fault.

    Her patio
    withholds his dead.

    She was a
    wrong’un.

    The Meaning

    accessory
    Feeling shame and guilt over past actions, words and events that weren’t completely within my control. A reckoning with what responsibility means when knowledge, agency and understanding are limited.

    concealment
    There’s a desire not to be discovered for past actions or mistakes. But keeping the past buried requires something of the present self too.

    What Lingers…

    Can guilt can be carried without it becoming identity?

    What if reconciliation needs truth, not lifelong punishment?

    Marginalia

    Shame, guilt and rumination bring the past into present. Memories I thought long dealt with still arrive unexpectedly. I find myself wondering why they return. Already dealt with, I remind them.
    Shush.

  • After the Drain

    After the Drain

    The Dream

    Commercial bank
    its pond
    fetid.

    Its fish
    dead
    and dying.

    Call
    the RSPCA.

    The water
    drains

    waste and
    rubbish
    remain.

    Fresh water
    pours.

    No.
    The toxic mess
    remains.

    The Meaning

    pond
    The bank of emotions needs its poisoned swamp draining of waste before it’s refilled.

    What Lingers…

    What if emotional renewal requires more than refilling? What if it demands a purge?

    What if healing can’t begin until the waste is named, not just drained?

    Marginalia

    Sometimes, life needs a clear-out. We collect experiences and relationships that aren’t always beneficial. Much like the resurfacing of old memories in The X Files, here my dreams are demonstrating how a new environment can be just as harmful if what was originally toxic remains present.  

  • Their Old House

    Their Old House

    The Dream

    Mum’s kitchen.

    I make
    soap.

    Open
    the window
    away
    it blows.

    Undergrowth
    cradles glass.

    Unbroken.

    Sigh.
    I mend.

    I worry.
    Another thing
    he cannot
    fix.

    The Meaning

    soap
    Creation. I’m trying to make something gentle and caring.

    family home
    My origin and foundation.

    broken window
    The structure of familiarity is being ripped from my hands and I’m powerless.

    a temporary fix
    I’m relieved; it’s not as bad as I’d feared. The repair will hold for now, it will buy some time, but things are changing; they’re not the same anymore.

    worry
    I’m trying to protect Dad; I don’t want him to be burdened, but there’s the realisation that this person isn’t who they used to be.

    What Lingers….

    What if we can’t make things be as they once were but accept how things are now?

    Marginalia

    My Dad has broken his shoulder. The house is falling apart. I’m unable to fix these things. The situation calls for a different side of me as I swap places to nurture those who once nurtured me.

  • Two Donkeys

    Two Donkeys

    The Dream

    Two donkeys
    loose
    on the road.

    One
    wears a
    red spotted
    head scarf.

    Toy donkeys
    but real.

    One of them
    skittish,
    the other one
    calm.

    I called
    the RSPCA.
    They didn’t
    have any
    space.

    I felt put out.
    I was stuck with them.

    The Meaning

    donkeys
    Life’s inconveniences. They wander in and demand attention.

    RSPCA
    I try to reallocate the problem. To the person whose job it should be.

    responsibility
    Responsibility arrives through proximity. I noticed; now I’m involved.

    What Lingers…

    What happens when conscience becomes responsibility?

    What if responsibility arrives before consent?

    Marginalia

    Life isn’t a funfair, it’s messy, sometimes absurd, and takes up space. My dream hands me two problems. There’s a reluctance from me. I tried to redirect to the proper authority. These are not my problems and yet I’m left dealing with them anyway.

  • The X Files

    The X Files

    The Dream

    A series of old memories,
    residue of time gone by.

    Why now?
    You mean nothing.

    Don’t you?

    The Meaning

    old memories
    Not all memories dissolve on contact.
    Some stay lodged until the body feels safe enough to unearth them.
    Healing isn’t a delay, it’s timing.

    What Lingers…

    What if the body stores what time alone can’t dissolve?

    What if release depends not on will, but on safety that never comes?

    Marginalia

    We know that painful memories can be hard to process, but what happens when they resurface years later like fresh cuts, unannounced and unprepared for?

    I don’t think our bodies want us to return there; instead, I think it’s a passage forward. To allow us to reframe with fresh, compassionate eyes. To help us let go.

  • Part 1: The Renovation

    Part 1: The Renovation

    The Dream

    My house —
    so big.
    So many
    front doors.
    It’s perfect
    to split.

    Everything
    needs renovating.
    It’s such a
    disaster.

    When it’s done,
    I’ll rent the rooms
    to refugees.
    It’ll be safe
    here.

    The Meaning

    house
    It’s back. This time in ruins.

    door
    Access points to my inner world. More than one way in or out. I’m open.

    renovation
    The interior is chaos, but I’m not giving up. I’m ready to rebuild from scratch — not patch over. What’s reborn here isn’t just for me. I want it to shelter those still seeking safety.

    What Lingers…

    What if inner ruin can be repurposed into refuge?

    What if usefulness begins not with perfection, but with making one room ready?

    Marginalia

    I think I’ve already mentioned elsewhere that I only ever recall dreams that have a message for me. Because of that, I don’t remember every bit of brain fodder, and days, weeks, and months might go by before I recall again.

    Sometimes the recall comes in flurries. It’s been over a month since my last ‘recalled’ dream. I’ve now started my new herbal course and already feel confident that this was meant to be the way forward.

    The last time I dreamed of my house in The House That Contains Everything, I accepted all the rooms in it, even those that were cold. Here I’m on with the renovations and I’m clear about why I’m renovating… It’s to be for the benefit of others.

  • Clean Hands, Dirty World

    Clean Hands, Dirty World

    The Dream

    Changing rooms
    an argument
    she steals
    from me.

    On camera
    I see her
    I’m not innocent
    I still want justice.

    Camping
    they steal
    from me.
    I know
    where they live

    The Meaning

    theft
    I carry guilt but I’m not corrupted by it. I’m committed to doing the right thing, even if it burns me.

    What Lingers…

    They say let those without sin cast the first stone. But what if standing by means the world rots?

    What if doing the right thing still matters, even when no one gets to stay clean?

    Marginalia

    Sometimes I can’t locate my dreams into my waking life and I wonder where they are from? The past? Maybe the future? Maybe from another life entirely.

  • Retreat From A Storm

    Retreat From A Storm

    The Dream

    A hedged garden.
    Weather, raged
    is rolling in.

    I shout, in warning
    I curl
    the wind
    bawls overhead.

    The Meaning

    weather
    I sense disruption before it breaks. I warn, not to control, but to prepare.

    curling
    I withdraw into instinct. I don’t confront, I don’t outrun, I survive by yielding until it’s safe to stand again.

    What Lingers…

    What if retreat isn’t weakness, but the most powerful form of retaliation?

    What if sensing a shift is its own kind of power?

    Marginalia

    There are many ways to deal with stressors. We can fight, flight, fawn, freeze or, as I’m learning more about, I can simply remove my energy as a conscious choice instead of a visceral reaction rooted in learned reflexive coping. There’s something quite soothing in knowing where my boundaries lie. I’m learning that not every storm that blows, needs or deserves my energy.

  • We’ve Met Before

    We’ve Met Before

    The Dream

    Have you seen the photo?
    They asked.
    It was me
    my family,

    my partner 
    and his family.

    We were children.

    Didn’t you realise
    you’ve met
    each other 
    Before?

    The Meaning

    A hidden history surfaces.
    Our lives crossed long before we were aware.
    It changes the story—what feels new now carries suggestions of an older thread.
    The present isn’t starting fresh; it’s picking up where something once left off.

    What Lingers…

    What if the present isn’t a beginning, but a continuation of a past we just forgot to remember?

    What if the threads we call coincidence are roots, winding back through time?

    Marginalia

    I don’t think it’s unusual to believe that families and friends find each other again in their “next lives.” This dream didn’t just make me feel that’s possible—it shifted something in me. A sense that my partner and I may have chosen to meet again. It gives our relationship a depth that feels steady and secure, as though our story has been woven before, and is still unfolding.

    This dream also marked a pause in my nocturnal downloads— as if there was already enough to process in waking life without transmitting more.

  • Not My Dream

    Not My Dream

    The Dream

    My son,
    on fire.

    I ran,
    threw a blanket,
    pushed him
    to the floor.

    I soaked
    his body
    in cold
    water,

    over
    and over
    again.

    I didn’t
    scream.

    I didn’t
    panic.

    I just knew
    what I needed
    to
    do.

    The Meaning

    Crisis overrides emotion.
    No time to feel—only to act.

    What Lingers…

    What if, in a crisis, emotion is an unaffordable indulgence?

    What if real strength moves silently—and without ceremony?

    Marginalia

    My elderly dad has fallen and is still in recovery.
    I don’t think this dream belongs to me—I think it belongs to my mother.

    I asked her how she feels,
    but she always puts Dad’s needs first.

    Now I understand why.