Dreams of Fish

A virus, and its cohort of opportunistic bacteria, has been using my body as something of a playground this week.

My doctor, who thinks he’s a very witty man, noted that I wasn’t suddenly eating more lettuce than usual or wallowing in the dirt, and pronounced me free of Swine ‘Flu.
It has been, however, as he predicted, a very nasty bug indeed.

Last night, sun and moon in Leo, I dreamed of building aquaria, and stocking them with colourful little tropical fish. One came apart at the seams almost immediately. Another kept leaking, and I had to constantly top up the water level, and restock it from other fish-filled glass boxes.

Suddenly – as happens in dreams – I was passing down a road, and I noticed intense flames raging out of the back door of a small house. Entering the building I saw that the source of the fire was the leaky aquarium. Its electric pump had shorted. I put out the fire, and still had at least one working, seamless aquarium.

Crystal clear water and little jewel-bright fish. An unmistakable symbol, to me, of spirituality and emotional intelligence. Love and all its attendants are represented here, as well as the myriad deities we create and populate our Cosmos with.

And it’s true – I have been a spiritual bumbler, an emotional infant, for most of my life. I believe that I was just reminding myself of this unpalatable fact. As well as giving myself a clear message that I’m still able to find my wholeness, that all is very much not lost.