Yesterday in dream country, I stood in logging slash watching two large predators. The cougar was tackling the bear, biting his back. Though I was just a passive witness, the dream felt distinctly threatening.
I grew up in northern BC, and in the peculiar logic of dreams, I figured I needed to go up north. That way, I would be able to figure out what the dream meant. But when I tried to get there, I found myself up against a fence that blocked access completely.
All day I wondered. What could it possibly mean? I did some inner work, and hoped for the best.
This morning I had another dream. In the boiler room of old my old high school, I caught a young cougar between my booted feet and pinned him. Looking down, I told him, "You go nowhere till I decide to let you loose." This cougar seemed benign, cute even.
Shortly after I woke, I suddenly thought about my first hiking boots. They cost the princely sum of $7.99. I was inordinately proud of them.
Brand name? Cougar. Strange how the mind circles back, using individual memory as intimate metaphor.
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