March 08, 2004
the return of skunk girl
As I stepped out onto my little back stoop into the dark morning air today, for a few Yogic breaths, something brushed against my leg. I was a little spooked, thinking, for a moment, it was a racoon, but I did not have an adrenalized response, as is usual under the condition of unidentified animals nuzzling me on my porch.
I could feel a fluffy tail and heard a little bell and quickly came to the conclusion that it was a neighborhood cat. Although I feel a friendly admiration for cats, I am terribly allergic to them. (Interpretation of that will have to wait for another entry, I know it means something , but I'm not sure what.) Allergies prevent me from doing the cuddling and petting that leads to deep affection and attachment, with cats, that is. This cat hung around, sweetly, waiting for a kinestetic response that was not forthcoming, while I told it good morning, and came back inside.
Ms. Synchronicity couldn't leave that one alone. Why a cat? What was the message? It was a cat, because a cat wouldn't be frightening, like a skunk, for example. Skunk! Sure enough I remembered a dream that I had last night.
Larger context: Last summer I had had a series of dreams and encounters with a skunk. I identified an aspect of myself that I called "skunk girl". The part of me that sprays toxins all over my environment? Shame? Can't remember exactly. I wrote it all down, but it has temporairliy slipped from consciousness. I was going to write about it awhile back, but I couldn't find the material when last I looked in my yellow pages, where I kept my notes before I went direct.
Here's my dream Sunday night March 6, 2004.
I am standing outdoors behind something solid like an open car door, and I am aware of animals playing on the other side. Cats and a skunk, at least. It's dark, and I cannot really see them. Then, a pure white skunk comes around to my side of the door. Lest I be worried about being sprayed, my dream provided the pure, white skunk with a little, white velvet bow in her hair, following the style of Maltese groomers. (I could take hours to find the image for this, but, lo, I have a little something in the archive --- shoot, no bow) My dreamer knew that this skunk was domesticated because of the bow, and didn't worry about being sprayed.
Got it! Got it! The repressed material that I recovered about skunk girl last summer, after I almost stepped on one, in the dark, in my front yard at the cottage.
I grew up in the country suburbs of the midwest. Everyone had at least two acres. We played Captain Video in the swamp, climbed the weeping willows and skated on the pond. BUT I DIGRESS -- (so, cancel your subscription). When I was nine or ten, my beloved dachshund and confidant, Pepper, was sprayed by a skunk. My mother locked me out of the house with a bucket of water and Fels Naptha soap to take care of him. I didn't know what to do. He was suffering. It was terrible. I really needed some adult assistance. I can't remember what happened after that. I know Pepper was not himself, hiding under tables and in corners for weeks. He smelled like skunk on rainy days forever after. It broke my heart.
Dream Interpretation: Skunk girl is quite a bit more appealing than when last she presented herself. She is pure white, with white velvet ribbons, and she has been domesticated (read descented). I would say this is a progress report from the great beyond about how much light I'm allowing. Perhaps it's only hubris.
Posted by Dakota at March 8, 2004 05:55 AM