Andrew Grygus - Dream - 07-30-1979                       #35



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The Fish Vendor

This dream, one of my very favorites, was set entirely along the shore of the sea. The shore here was very unique, consisting of a great shelf of hard gray stone projecting out into the sea, its top just above the water. This shelf was undermined by caverns and there were holes through it in places, creating deep pits of surging water, some of tremendous depth. Down the coast was a small village reminiscent of a Japanese fishing village.

The principal person in this dream was a woman of about 30, attractive and well built. In the very earliest moments I observed her from without, and for the rest of the dream I was her. She had a source of fish, apparently tide pools she had inherited from her father where fish were trapped. These she sold out of deep baskets she carried on her back, soaking wet, and the fish inside still alive.

Begin:   I was nearing the village to sell fish from my basket. These were fish about a foot and a half long, wrapped in wet cloth. Selling them made me very sad because the villagers were coarse and had no respect or understanding for the beautiful fish I had to catch and sell to live. They often mistreated them. Finally, on this very misty morning, as I walked on the rock ledge, it all became too much . There was no-one around, so I found a rock and tied it with a rope. The other end of the rope I tied around under my armpits. Someone observed me at this point, but I clutched my rock and jumped into one of the swirling surging pits.

The basket, which was still strapped to my back came loose as the rock pulled me down. I looked back toward the surface and saw my fish escape and dash away with the sunlight flashing on their silver sides. I would have liked to stay and watch them, but the rock was too heavy to fight and pulled me down into the darkness. At this point I left this consciousness.

I returned to the village at a later time as a stranger. I was with some village men who were discussing a great pool cut in the shelf of rock hanging out into the water. It had become a holy place where people came to be cured in the swirling water or to find answers to important questions. It is said that the woman who is the spirit of the pool is sometimes seen walking on the rocks in the mist at dawn with her basket, but she needs no longer to sell her beautiful fish.

End.