Dreaming About Aid for Traumatized Children
by Ilkin
Turkey
Every night I tried to focus on a child image in the area and try to communicate with him/her. Try to send love and courage, try to take away his/ her fears, tell about peace and whatever happens there will be a future. Until then, I used to have another child every night which I tried to send positive energy, support and love. I was having dreams related with children beginning much before than, but after that, I begin to feel a kind of different relation with them. And when the war begun, I felt like all those children in my dreams for years and lately were calling me as; "Where are you? You were in our dreams. Where are you now? We are still living, we need you." And I wrote the first one in the minutes Iraq first began to bomb to all the children's in my dreams. Later the others came with remembering the dreams one by one. The ones I sent you and the dreams they are related are below. Only the first one is for all of the dreams.
DREAM- ALL THE DREAMS WITH CHILDREN
TO ALL THE CHILDREN OF MY DREAMS.
forgive me children
forgive me the children of my dreams
forgive us the children of Iraq
forgive us the children of the world
you were hungry, thirsty
you were naked, in pain
you were alone with your huge eyes
you were begging for hope in my dreams
when I tried to visit your dreams everynight
when I tried to give courage and take your fears away
when I tried to meet at least one of you everynight
I was still hopeful, believing the power of humanity
forgive me children
I didn't understand you
I didn't understand the look in your huge eyes
I didn't understand what you want to tell with those eyes
I am aware of my part
but what a shame I am not alone
forgive us for not seeing how short the time was
for not wanting to believe how powerful the evil is
thank you Mr. Bush
thank you Mr. Saddam
for teaching us how evil man can be
and damn you both
for killing the children's dreams
did you ever hugged your twins with all your heart Mr. Bush
how was the feeling of murdering your own grandchildren Mr. Saddam
can you touch your little ones head without shame tonight Mr. Blair
thanks to you, how will we look at eyes of all those children now
forgive us children
not the dead ones, you are already gone
and going on every minute now in Iraq
but ones wounded, ones who lost parents
ones who are loosing future, loosing hope forgive us
do you know where Baghdad is
do you know what Baghdad is
it was the city where the civilizations borne in centuries
it was the city of stories told children for centuries
it will be a ruin, a giant grave of innocents by tomorrow
I wish I could tell the children they are fireworks shining in the sky
I wish I could tell they are fires of celebrating to the children
if a child asks with all her innocence, with all his excitement
how can mother answer; they are not stars falling down but death is coming
I can't ask you to forgive me children, to forgive us
all I can do is watching you dieing on TV screens
technology of 21st century is showing, how the technology is killing
I will never stop in my heart, day or night, hearing your screams
though I will never loose my belief to humanity
I am ashamed of the failure in preventing this hell
I am ashamed of my country taking part in this massacre
I am ashamed of insensitivity
oh Hitler, you must be turning in your grave
they are already get so many steps in front of you
you were at least open in your goal
they are hiding their goal behind "the sake of humanity"
I can't ask you to forgive us children
I was also a child once
then I grow up, as you will in time
and learned that it is always children who suffers most
DREAM- 8 February 2003
UNKNOWN CITY
"I am in a house which looks to a city from a rather upper hill. The sun was set but the sky was still very dark blue. Maybe because of the full moon. I am very tired and sitting on a stool. My left hand was holding my torn jacket as I am cold and I am slowly smoking the cigarette in my right hand. I am in the house but the door is open and I can see all the city down. There was a slight rain but it is thundering with a loud noise. I can smell the scent of the wet earth but there is also a smell of fire. I feel different kind of feelings; watching the lightening falling on the city with rain, the houses and gardens I can see under the lightening and listening the soft sound of rain, thunders and a voice singing a song from far away. Then suddenly I begin to see the people, families, children, elders in the houses and feel their horrors, pains, hatreds, thoughts etc in my mind. I ask myself, "Where am I? This is a city full of pain as much as it is beautiful, why did I moved here?". In a sudden a very loud sound (like an alarm) covers all the other sounds (rain, thunders, song etc) and little bits of fires (like stars) begins to fell on the city (like a star rain). I feel myself as frozen, I don't make any move just sit and smoke my cigarette, watch and feel the thoughts passing from the peoples minds in the city down."
BAGHDAD IN MY DREAMS
can I describe it?
is it possible to describe?
if I say;
rain is falling on the city in flames singing a soft song
the smell of the fresh earth is filling my burning breath
and it is still thundering, lightning in the empty sky
for example, if I say;
in a little room, on a wooden stool
taking a smoke from my cigarette
watching the lightning falling down
the forgotten laundries hanging from the ropes in the gardens
a sound singing "your black eyes" from some where far away
in the pleasure of the darkness and loneliness
I am listening the silence and slavery so far but so near my eyes closed
and if I say;
to came here takes seconds, to go away takes endless times
you can take the seconds as living the hatreds of tens of years
and every breath you take is a thousand and one thoughts from yesterday to tomorrow
there are foulness, betrays you can't bear on the way
there are shining eyes, near the bent heads you can't look in
there are fists cut bleeding when it came unbearable
if I say...
and again, if I say;
every eyedrop you can't let down
is a cold raindrop falling to your heart in fact
when the alarms begin to sing, when the doors closed
yet, it is the hope which can't be locked
yet, it is love what warms you, fill your eyes with tears
and if I say;
and you can weave the seconds as weaving a lace
a lace, which can burn hands as weaved from pain and sorrow
and begin weaving everynight from the beginning again
can I describe it,
can I describe Baghdad of my tormenting dreams?
I can't describe
oh, my little ones I can't describe!...
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DREAM - 24 January 2003
SUFFERING SILENT CHILDREN
"In my dream there where lots of children covered with mud and dirt. Some were nude and some were wearing thorn pants or blouses. Their hairs were dirty and covering their eyes. But their eyes were huge and I could see their eyes between the dirty hairs. They were looking with despair and hunger. Everywhere was deserted, there were no plants. We were at the backyard of a white house which was mine. Than I saw the scene from the sky. I began to watch the scene as I was looking from the moon to the earth and still seeing the children very clear on the deserted world (I mean without any green or blue as the photos taken from space). Than I get lucid and begin to think that I can't and should not watch from there, I should fly to where they are and help them. I was also thinking that house was not mine. I tried to focus but I couldn't find the exact place where they were. One minute they seem on the north of the world, other minute they seem at the east or west. I decided not to wait looking from the space more and because I was lucid I can find them anyway. I had the fastest fly in my dreams and found myself near them. They were looking at me with hope in their huge eyes. I said; I will try to find something to eat and wear but because this is not my house, first I should look in the house. They were waiting in silence and look as they have pain. I entered the house. There was nothing but a calendar on the wall. The calendar was showing the February and the second weekend was taken in a red circle. I thought it must be the time what had happened. Finding nothing I went out again. There was a pump and all I could do was to pump water to the ground. All the children began to lick the water from the ground with hunger. I tried to prevent them to do it, thinking they may get disease from the dirty
water spilled on the ground. One of them turned her eyes to me. She told me "The worst has already happened. There is nothing you can do other than giving hope and it is also going away" (no words, she spoke with her eyes). I felt desperate. I thought if I can turn the time back being lucid. Than sat down and began to cry. My eyedrops were dropping to the dirty water absorbing by the ground faster than the children trying to lick it. I picked and throw a rock to the calendar on the wall which I can see from the open door of the house. It hit the red circle. I woke up with a feeling of hate to the February and sorrow for all the children."
SILENCE OF THE DREAM CHILDREN
you didn't ever told me
how many reasons there can be to light fires in a humans eyes
you only said; "the only thing you can give is hope",
"and it's already going away" speaking with your eyes.
you only showed your little naked bodies,
huge eyes, your despair, your thirst.
I couldn't see, I couldn't understand anything
from those little, fragile bodies in my dreams
other than their nakedness, loneliness
and just the pain burning in their eyes
than, the day came
and I had no need to be told anything anymore
when that indefinable pain pierced my own eyes
when my heart broke uncountable pieces
I saw those little bodies as they are in my arms
they were so weak, so bruised as they walked their country all alone
as they passed the misty mountains naked
they were in blood, their bones can be seen
yet, so beautiful, so beautiful they were that I wanted to be a painter
you didn't tell me before, do you remember
however, silent children of my dreams, I lived all
when the cool drops of rain covered the darkness in my eyes
when my nails cut my flesh in my hands
when I tried to hide my trembling hands behind me
when my sadness turning into joy
ın fact, the little ones of my dreams
to be told and loneliness lost it's meaning
when the flames of your fires touched my eyes
we were there together
we were not alone but millions
your silence get lauder and lauder
the silence all over the world came together
from the burning ones with napalm in Vietnam
to ones lost legs to landmines in Bosnia, in Afghanistan
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DREAM - 15 February 2003
PEOPLE WITHOUT LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP
"I was in the middle of a crowd. There was a pop concert in large park. But there was also some young men and women with rifles and tried to dress like soldiers. I know they are members of a youth gang. There was a chaos, fights etc. but nobody was helping each other. I was looking around to find a safe place. I entered a building. There was lots of white washbasins but no toilettes with door, where I can hide. There were also some children in the corners. The gang members entered the building. The leader of them held me from my arm and pull after him. I was begging him not to harm me or the children. I was asking him, at least take me but leave the children alone. We entered a luxury saloon. There was 3 young girls who were his lovers. He was drinking alcohol and giving orders to his gang members with the girls at his side and knees. All this time he never takes his eyes from me. I was at a corner with the children behind me. The children were so horrified that they don' t even cry. Then he stands up, throw the girls out of the room and again pull me after him and get on the concert stage. He begin to sing a love song, with holding me from behind with his rifle still in his hand and holding the microphone with the other hand. Suddenly I begin to read his mind and feel the love in him for only me and the children. But he was also seems like he wants to make love. I look around and feel very bad understanding there is no friendship or love between the people. The children were standing behind the stage apart from the people."
DREAM - 22/ March/ 2003 (Afternoon)
PLAYING WITH CHILDREN (MUTUAL)
In fact I can't say it was a dream. It was rather like photographed scenes. In my sleep I saw; black and white shots of photos following one another. They were all about me and lots of children around. Children were different in various photo shots. In some of them we were playing holding hands, hide and seek etc and in some of them I was giving candies, bread etc to them. In all, I have a feeling of happiness and hope. I also saw a woman who worked for me in the past and lost her 5 year old son because of a heart problem last year. She was watching me with the children. I thought that she is feeling sad watching me with children because it makes her remember her son. Children were poorly dressed and dirty. Their eyes were showing emotions of sadness, emptiness etc but they were mostly smiling.
When I woke up and go to kitchen for coffee, there was the woman in my dream having tea with my mother. At the same moment we told each other "I saw you in my dream" and laughed saying it same moment. Then we said each other "you tell first". She said that, she saw me with lots of children around me, most of them boys. She said she don't remember well but she was staying out of my playing etc with children just watching and remembering her son.
CONVERSATION WITH THE CHILDREN OF MY DREAMS
our century is horrible my beloved ones
our illusions were already gone
we were already accepted to fight with the sufferings
but yet, there were still, still some things we can hold
there were friendships smashed
there were loves even if without hopes
at least my beloved ones,
at least there were eyedrops
falling slightly and warmly
no words left to describe our century my beloved ones
it took away all what we have crushed in our hands
all which we try to build up again with a child's excitement
it blowed all with the strength of a desert wind
it left no friendships, no loves
it even took the joys of the eyedrops from our hands
our century makes the impossible possible
our century makes the possible crush down
cramp our hands, lock our hearts
those hands of us
those hearts of us
which are compelled to freedom
addicted to hope
but yet, our century is weak my beloved ones
it couldn't destroy our hearts with hope hidden in the deep down
even if our friendships, loves are taken from us
even if they where thrown to the wind
even if we wont cry out with our warm eyedrops
our hearts are still here wiggling
we still can dream future
our century is a weak ring of the chain
it will be our persistence, stubbornness
it will be our dreams what will broke the chain
The majority of these dreams were part of the April 2, 2003 "Dream Incubation for Children", and the April 11, 2003 "Dafumu Dreaming."
Valley
Dallas, Tx USA
The significant part of my dreaming for me last night was about a river.
I saw a deeper part of the river flowing, I was looking at it from out side the river. I could hear a voice telling me it is time to go into the river deeper. I was willing to do this.
This speaks of the willingness to connect to life on a deeper level, to let the flow of life carry me, and seeing life from a deeper level than maybe others normally see to go beyond the surface. To become part of the river and not be afraid to experience the flow of it. I feel the importance of this for me right now, and I am grateful for the dream to help me get into the river on a deeper level.
I am grateful to this dreaming community for creating a space for us to dream together to experience deeper connections, building bridges of understanding and support, blazing tracks of peace, training us all how to be better conductors of peace.
Kathy
Australia
Celebrate
I am looking at a Russian doll like figure (red and yellow) waving her many arms above her head. Her arms don't seem to be connected to her shoulder or at the elbows. In fact each of her arms looks remarkably like two French bread sticks. The figure is standing by a square cement pillar in a vast pillared underground area that is being used as a hospital. I hear "Be the doctor who teaches them to celebrate." I think: that is a really peculiar thing to do.
Thoughts this morning: I was struck by bringing in the Russian and French - partly because they both clearly opposed the invasion of Iraq. I was puzzling over the instruction to "celebrate" when I remembered a poster I'd seen a few times here at University - it always strikes me as an incredibly peculiar, very anti-life and very old fashioned poster. It's title is: "Don't celebrate, liberate" (announcing seminars on women's liberation). So partly the dream is saying don't try to liberate, aim for celebration of life.
May
San Francisco, CA USA
April 12, 2003, Rain w/ thunder & lightening
A CHARMING TALE!
A CHARMING TALE!
Vaguely, the understanding is I have to return to school. It will be a long walk on a dark winter road. I also hear that one can go out to this place where there is a cliff-like point. There is an open truck that passes on the road just beneath this "cliff". People simple jump into the truck and get a ride.
Now, I am w/ two little boys, about 6 and 4, brothers. From here on the dream became storybook tale. We are supposed to go to a special Christmas ritual celebration at an opulent big house setting. The boys seem to be orphans in my care. Not in the total sense, just we are going together and I’m responsible for them.
We wrap up little figurines. I have this bag for necessities. We put the figurines in there. We go out on this road. I’m bit concerned of this winter road and jumping into the truck. Now we are there. We know the truck is below us though we can’t hear or see it. We do this ritualistic verbal exchange w/ the unseen driver as if that is our signal to each other. The two boys already jumped down. It’s my turn, with a momentary hesitation I’m already not only in the truck but already in the house where the ritual is taking place.
It is a "great" house. We are invisible to the people there. We are in this room which has soft off-white walls and fluffy sofas and chairs of the same color. Even the light in this room is a little goldenish. The total effect is of opulence and warmth. The cozy feeling is added on knowing persons passing by us cannot see us, as we are invisible. The atmosphere is of an earlier era. (Like my other recent big house dream where cruel acts were performed.)
At one point I am telling the boys something, I utter a word. To the right there is an open door where a woman is tutoring. She swiftly turns her head from left to right. During the turn she "spits" out the word I just spoke, to correct me, saying this is the only way to say that word. I think, oh, how clever. She is there to tutor a woman. She tells me that one cannot teach that word by simply saying it; it has to be, she spits it out again.
Still in the same room, I notice there is a young man sort of stretched out on a sofa behind us. He can see us. I’m bit uncomfortable.
Now, the ritual begins. We stand in line to walk up to a small low table with table cloth on it. The "normal" people form one line. They are of normal size, dressed formally. We are smaller. I and the two boys form a parallel line on the left close to the other line. The boys place their offering on the table. I also place my offering on the table and utter a word or words. The first word is "Merry.... ". I’m not sure of the second word. EOD
The whole dream feels like a "tale", not quite a "fairy" tale. It is charming, tender, w/ fleeting moments of anxiety in me. The boys are fine. Nothing stands out about them. The clearest aspect is that soft off-white room with warm golden natural light.
The "road" may be related to, my having dinner in the evening with 5 Chinese friends. We mentioned the Chinese movie "The Road Home". Its original Chinese title is "My Mother and Father", an unimaginative title. While talking about it I visualize that road, in the dark, clearly. The road in my imagination in the dream of walking back to school is just like that. Thus, it is a road full of memory and meaning.
I don’t know about the point where people jumps off into the open truck. The cliff like jumping point may symbolize a decision, a turning point in life. As, right after that we are at our destination, a fairy-tale like house. To jump into an unseen truck takes faith and confidence. Maybe the ritualistic exchange with the driver was our safe guard.
The word that I tried to say to the boys seems to require a highly unusual way of "spitting’ out may mean crucial words from the heart or soul need spontaneity, speed, and energy.
The ritual maybe related to the Aid for Traumatized Children project on the Peace Bridge as I particularly escorted two boys there and placed something on the ritual table, enunciating a "sacred" word of blessing.
Victoria
Australia
Somebody was taking me on a 'flying back in time' tour to show the waterways around major cities - particularly London, and perhaps San Francisco or New York? when they were used primarily as a water source, and weren't highly polluted.
It was somehow a fact finding mission, to think of ways in which bridges could be built and transportation created that did minimal environmental damage.
Later, groups of people made their own 'tents of peace' and there was fun discussion of ideas, plus art and music centered around these tents.
****
Note: Last night my daughter and her friend slept in a tent in our backyard.
Nick
Australia
In another lucid dream, I was just lying in my bed. And the walls started being covered with messages. Ranging from hieroglyphic patterns, to icons, to all kinds of different languages, finally I made out a message 'teach the children'. I sat there, for a moment, waiting for what it was I was to be taught, and then suddenly realized that I could certainly help by 'teaching the children' about dreaming so to speak.
Asking for more advice, I decided to reenter the dream to discover who it was I was supposed to teach. I found myself, in a room, with Janette (previous WDBP members) youngest son Mikey. He is about 5. I'd always had a good relationship with Mikey, and now he seems to appear quite often in my dreams. I know that he is a great friend, who I am meant to encourage. It is great fun, getting him interested in the world of dreams.
Ilkin, I feel that we definitely can support the children of Iraq in dreams. In my personal belief, dreams can be a gateway to a deeper reality, condensing exchanges which can affect peoples life's very greatly. I remember as a young child, a dream in which I found myself on an island. My bubble of perception, was blasted open, by a sorcerer. The colours more intense than I can imagine. I felt myself blast out into this spray of colour and light. Such an experience, lingers in the depths of my memory, and really reminded me of how lucky I was (particularly strange - as I hardly knew what a sorcerer was at the time).
If I could offer, even a 100th of the power of this experience, to a young child, then I feel I could offer them hope..
