I dreamt that I was driving down a pleasant dusty country road between hedgerows and copses of old trees on a perfect June day. It could have been some backroad in the Driftless region or somewhere in an old Celtic country. The road led down into a small hamlet or settlement of houses, again, reminding me of Ireland or England, eventually narrowing to a single lane. At this point, the passage of the road seemed to end at a cul de sac, but in fact I had to turn to the left and enter the rear door of a building, like a garage. Perhaps the original ancient road had passed this way, and the building was originally a stable for lodging horse and carriage, built directly across and around the road itself, added on to the adjacent inn.

So, the road itself ran right through the building, though I couldn't tell if it was one way only, or open to traffic from either direction. The feeling was that returning traffic must have been routed in a different track, since there was only the single lane to the entrance. Nonetheless, it seemed that the 'front' was at the exit, so that I had entered through the rear of the 'stable' and would exit through the street side.

After entering the building, I found myself being asked to lean back and relax for a measurement of some sort. I was in a type of metallic chair (a dentist's chair?) with footrests and armrests which were flattened for laying back, rather than like a sitting up in an armchair. The thought passed through me "I wonder if this is the undertakers garage, and they are measuring me for a coffin?" There was no sense of concern, just inquiry, as I silently observed as a couple of men in white coats (or mechanic's overalls?) made adjustments to the platform and took notes.

I seemed to doze presently, and after a moment was awakened in the dream with a doctor/mechanic looking into my face, telling me and the others around "You're just fine, please feel free to proceed on your journey."

At this point I rose and walked out the front door onto the street, which seemed very much like Galena, and the building seemed very much like Elmar's Auto Service Centre, which does indeed open onto both Commerce Street in the rear and Main Street in the front.

I walked out and was immediately standing in a small group of friends in friendly conversation, such as one has in front of a restaurant on a pleasant summer evening after dining out. The one person I recognized immediately was Sam Mulgrew, whose presence seemed immediately to indicate that all was well. This was the end of the dream...

--

To me, on reflection, this is an immensely positive dream. There was no anxiety, even in the face of uncertainty, and impending enclosure in a casket. It is a dream of transition, and of returning from a journey, which while pleasant enough was long and lonely and somewhat dusty one, like a memory, rather than a present experience. The passage through the Chamber is a classic metaphor for birth and transition, and the image of the undertaker a classic metaphor for the shamanic teacher who guides one through the bardos between death and rebirth.

To find a group of special friends and kindred spirits on ones return from the hero's journey provides deep comfort and a confirmation that the trials endured and the disasters avoided by a hair's breadth are indeed part of the process of initiation.