Our dreams are full of unconscious material from our experiences, past lives and gathered from the collective. They’re a call, and an opportunity to understand what’s working inside of us, showing us our relationships to our inner masculine and feminine, and their confluence.
A number of years ago, I had a dream which has stayed with me. It speaks to my connection with Fox, to women, to Fox’s uncanny likeness to women (ever read about Kitsune?) and to the restoration of balance so needed in our dominant-model world today.
In the dream my home and garden are flooded with unexpected people, but most notably, an affluent man, who brought with him many, MANY daughters. All are playing with their children on swingsets and with toys. Upon closer inspection, I discover that they all look rather ill, with boils on their faces, and in pain. Their eyes are, in some cases, almost swollen shut. They were all sisters, and they all bear resemblance to one another, they even seem to be about the same age.
Down the garden path, happily putting some distance between myself and my numerous odd guests, I see a red Fox pop up near a bright green tree, standing out in my visual field on a dismal landscape.
She comes near me and I see that her tail has been removed. It’s ragged, stubbed and brushy, having been removed in a haste, perhaps. More and more distressed foxes of all colors, some wearing dog collars, come around wanting to follow me out the gate to escape their captor: the gentleman with all of the daughters. I am unsure of what I’m seeing, and it takes me some time to come up with a plan. I whisper to them that their tails WOULD grow back, but I will have to come secretly in the night to let them free so that they can get a good lead on him, as he will be coming for them. They seem disparaged in their hopes, not unlike shelter dogs, but I am able to provide a hope for them to cling to.
If you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing a Fox or it’s tail, you know that it is her shining glory. It is FAT, FLUFFY and by far, one of the most beautiful and cozy tails in the animal kingdom. She uses it to curl up into, and keep warm, to navigate with like a rudder, to strut her stuff. Her tail activates instinct, kundalini, sensuality, self-sanctuary, mystique, camouflage-the feminine Mystery embodied.
Under the light of the moon, it is time to slip our collars and regrow our tails. The inner dictator, passed down through all of the various outdated systems, is dying. He lives within us, in our unconscious, and we alone are responsible for overthrowing him. His daughters cannot see, and the last organ in line to detox, the skin, has begun to show it’s buried anger and irritation.
The promise of my dream is one of regeneration, for me, and for all women. We live the ancient myths forward, by continuing to write them.
If you’re currently in the process of regenerating your soul from the outdated model, imagine a vision of abandoned collars on the streetcorners, and tails up proud, heading for the forest.