When the Ways of Water Symbolize Our Internal Emotional Landscape

The dream is me from the time I awake until the time I go to sleep

Three times last week I dreamed of water. First, it was a flood in the streets of Honolulu, where I used to live. I can remember walking in a direction away from the beach. Each street I walked there was a mixture of water and sand creeping through crevices between homes, slinking off curbs.

A few days later, the hubby and I were sitting on the beach and a wave overtook the shoreline. It seemed I was watching him from a slight distance, calling for him to get up.

The third, I was sitting in a small white boat anchored at a marina, then became unhitched and gliding down a canal. I found myself in a craft jewelry boutique where someone in my dream said I was in Vietnam.

Before I awoke I held inside my palm a taxi yellow ceramic tea kettle sketched with what appeared to be some sort of hut in black ink. It had Vietnam written on the side. I woke up, startled and confused. I’ve never been to Vietnam — at least not in this lifetime.

When’s the last time you thought about water — dreamed about it? We all take it for granted. Get up in the morning, wash our faces, brush our teeth, shower, drink a glass, give it to our pets, plants, and keep it moving.

Yet we not only need it to live, we need it to survive.

Do we ever stop to think about the sacredness of water? The bible mentions water 722 times — baptisms, floods, cleansing, and healing the body. It’s our life force from which we’re thrust at birth. Our brains are 80% of this precious fluid. It flows through our bodies until the end. Try going without water for over three days.

This may sound strange, but I felt a little melancholy about the future of water. I tried to figure out from where my subconscious lifted this worrisome vibe.

Could it have been the Ventura Beach flood a few weeks back? They called it a rogue wave, as if it did something wrong. I’ve never thought of a wave that way — I don’t think Mother Nature is ever wrong. She can be dramatic to get our attention— the only force we humans seem to understand.

Life flows like water. Smooth sailing, soft ripples, thrashing waves, and sometimes a flooding of emotions we cannot withstand.

I spent a good amount of my childhood, teenage years, and adult life at the beach. I even met my husband at a beach party in LA. Neither of us were supposed to be there.

Our souls met under a thin sliver of a yellow moon suspended in fog over a still ocean blue — a spiritual connection.

Water has always represented the good times in my life and I didn’t want my relationship with it to be tarnished.

I admit I was afraid to investigate the dream interpretation, thinking it might unleash pending doom. Future water wars crossed my mind, the damage we’ve done to our sea life and the creatures that sustain us as food.

California’s struggle with a limited supply and what that means for future generations. I took a deep dive into a pool of cryptic thoughts until I was tired of torturing myself.

Is it not amazing how we allow our thoughts to flow to some scary places? I was causing my own internal tsunami.

Enough, I told myself. Google it and get on with your life and dreams.

I learned to dream of water is very common. It’s a pathway to our inner emotional landscape. Often a measure of our deepest emotions. Interpretations vary from feeling overwhelmed to a big change coming, as loss, spiritual growth, new beginning, or new understanding of life.

Water is also associated with fertility, creativity, emotional well-being, renewal, purity, and new endeavors.

I’ve been adulting for a long time now. I’m self aware enough to know my dreams are telling me a story — indicative of everything I’ve been feeling as of late. My mind is on playback while I wade inside my fears when in the still night.

Dreams about water signify our emotions as a force to be understood, analyzed. If taken seriously, they can open our minds to experience life deeper, more mindful of the things we need to work on in our waking hours.

My thought patterns about the future were overwhelming me, hence the flood, the wave overtaking the shoreline, and me floating in a boat down a canal. Still trying to figure out the Vietnam connection.

The fact I have more life behind than ahead with unfulfilled dreams—the future world we’re leaving for not only my children, all children, and for once in my life a much needed nudge to get serious about getting my affairs in order. Did I think I’d live forever?

I would die twice if I left this earth without properly preparing my children for their future with the legacy they deserve. Whoosh. No wonder water was taking over my dreams. My emotions were all over the place, swishing from one turbulent river to another. And, I know better.

In the words of Queen Maya, “when you know better you do better.” I have a plan and a new outlook on life — taking steps to rid myself of angst — walk my talk about staring fear in the face. At least surrounding those issues I’m able to control. The rest I give to the universe to resolve in all her infinite wisdom.

Writing will take center stage as I lift my head above water, treading upstream toward the light. It will symbolize my growth, creativity, and a steady stream of fresh air breathed into an old dream I’ve carried beneath the surface for decades.

“You have to dream before your dreams can come true” ~ APJ Abdul Kalam