How Dreams Are Made
Alice Anne Parker
I had a wonderful dream recently. I was surrounded by
balls of different colors and sizes. Little green balls.
Medium sized purple and yellow ones. Big red balls. Not
far from me were hoops and targets and goals for the
different sized balls. I thought, "gee, I'm not too
good at this kind of thing. I'm not even sure I can tell
which balls go where."
A team of brilliantly dressed Tibetan monks ran up,
ready to play. As I threw the balls, they rushed
gleefully around, moving the different goals to catch
each ball perfectly, no matter where or how I tossed it.
I was making shots from over my shoulder, with my eyes
closed, whatever. All of my balls hit the right target.
I woke up exhilarated. The dream confirmed my belief
that it's the right time for me to be getting all my
balls in the air; what's more, a fabulous dream team was
playing on my side.
A couple of weeks later I dreamed my husband and I
had almost reached the top of the stairs. Suddenly, the
dark woman raced up behind me and stabbed me in the
I knew exactly what I needed to do. I needed to stay
in the dream, to call on my dream allies — I needed to
get help. But I didn't. I panicked and woke up. The dark
woman was too fast for me. I was as shaken and disturbed
by the second dream as I had been reassured by the first
one. The two dreams exactly and graphically presented my
best and worst case scenarios.
Each of us comes into the world with a dream about
what we came here to do, who we came here to be. We've
each got a nightly message service that comments on how
well we're doing with our plan —letting us know in no
uncertain terms when we're off base, showing us what's
scaring us and holding us back — and most wonderfully,
letting us know when it's time to let all those balls
The first dream gave me the green light; the second
reminded me of some unprocessed fears needing my
attention — if I wanted to benefit fully from the
opportunity and help now available. I didn't waste any
time. I gave that bad dream my full attention. In a
self-healing meditation I found the chakra center where
the dark woman of my fears lived and I brought her the
loving kindness and understanding that she needed. She
hasn't appeared in a dream since, but I believe she
will. I'm eager for the next report on her condition. I
think I'm ready for her.
It seems pretty simple, but in fact, that's how most
of our dreams work. One says, here's the good news.
Another reports on the bad news, and offers an
opportunity to change it.
When I'm working with clients in my practice as a
professional psychic, this is exactly how I function in
offering guidance. Here's the good news. This is what
you came to do, and here is how the universe plans to
help you with your mission. Now here's the bad news —
here are the outworn strategies and survival skills that
limit your success. And finally, here are the tools you
need to release the fears, sometimes a heritage of many
generations, in order to fulfill your destiny.
For the last couple of years I've been developing a
new technique* for working with dreams — based on a
combination of Reiki self-healing, the practices of the
Druid Healing Grove, and the Tibetan yogas of sleep and
dreams. It's not as esoteric as it sounds. I believe
anyone can easily master this tool after brief training.
All it takes is the discipline to use the technique,
particularly with those bad dreams that lay out the
deepest fears we're all so eager to resolve.
Dream work doesn't need to be work. Your
dreams will continue to give you nightly bulletins, some
profoundly supportive and reassuring, some deeply
arousing or challenging — until you get the message.
*Please see information on my website
about dream and healing workshops if you are interested in learning this
Copyright © 2001
Alice Anne Parker. All Rights Reserved.
Alice Anne Parker, identified by Honolulu
Magazine as Hawaii's best known psychic, is the
author of the metaphysical adventure novel, The Last
of the Dream People and of the best-selling, Understand
Your Dreams, 3rd edition to be published in
September of 2001. She is a Reiki Master Teacher and an
award winning filmmaker, whose films have been honored
at the Cannes Film Festival and at a one-person show at
the Whitney Museum of American Art. Alice Anne lives and
dreams in Hau'ula, Hawaii with her husband, Henry
Holthaus, where she offers residential dream workshops
and Reiki Healing Intensives at her home, a former
Tibetan Buddhist Retreat Center. Her website is www.aliceanneparker.com