Tasted flesh,

When I have dreams that frighten me, I don't normally consider them nightmares. Why? Because most of the time, I know I'm dreaming. Like the time I encountered the Black Man, or had my legs chopped off by the rudder of a great ship... I was fearful, but not so scared out of my wits that I didn't know how to respond to the situation.

I had a nightmare last night though.

I succumbed to cannibalism. It wasn't due to a dire situation, it was a choice. I had murdered a small child, processed its body and ate it. I don't remember the act of murder. I do remember processing the body, and I remember the taste of the flesh, the texture in my mouth the thought running through my head, that I didn't want this. It fucking freaked me out to taste flesh, I haven't eaten meat in over two years! I wretched in my dream. I wasn't doing this voluntarily, but I was still putting the fork to my mouth, opening, chewing, swallowing. I was disgusted with myself. Wondering how I was going to hide murder, that I would forever live in regret, in absolute horror of what I had done. Regret that I had made the wrong choice.

What does it represent?

I think it's a warning of destruction of a part of myself.

I am admittedly resisting what I think is my calling. The funny fucking thing is, I don't know exactly what my calling is. I have ideas, but I fearfully turn my eye from them. I tell myself I've made it up, it isn't real - or I'm just going fucking crazy.

I know better than this!

I recently went to a discussion group hosted and lead by a famous shamaness and the topic was turning your fears into an ally. It came in such a timely manner, there were things I really needed to hear. How can I fear what I've wanted? I'm afraid of what it could bring, if I faced it and accepted it. I would be afraid of failure.

Resistance is futile, and in the long run, as my dream told me, would be a very bad, bad decision.