I had to cross the street in front of him. I tried to get his attention but he wouldn’t acknowledge me. A minute later, he called me on the phone. His voice was the voice of my first love. He told me since we broke up a month ago, he’d gone to Germany. He said it was cheap, only $700 to fly there, and he was going again soon. I felt jealous and left out. The phone cut out and I thought he’d call me back, but he didn’t.
I was driving by that time and pulled around a backroad. There was a huge truck pulling out a huge dead tree, piece by piece, by the roots. It was like a weeping willow, but taller, next to a New Englandy house nearby. (New Englanders are tough and self-contained and self-reliant. I’m a New Englander) I got the impression the tree belonged to that house. The driver of the big, tree-removing machine had the friendliest, catchingest smile. Thanks, Anne.”
Dear Anne: The opening setting of your dream shows how enormously reflective you are, especially through this difficult breakup. Your inner teacher has arranged for you to spend time looking at moments of the past which are frozen on film like memories. As an artist, you transform the mundane or painful experience into art by framing it thoughtfully, by finding the meaning in it. You may be welcoming the breakup at least on the level of regaining your space.
Your healing process is complicated by your ex showing up on his motorcycle covered in mud. There seems to be a dual image in this, of his racing rebellion from the relationship into solo-riding, and your own image of him feeling muddied. You know you have to cross this awareness, but there is a strong need to be acknowledged that isn’t being met. In your separation, your ex has gone to Germany which, as a communication style, could be described as historically stern and inflexible. He plans to go back there too. Like the phone, you have been unceremoniously cut out.
Since your ex’s voice is also the voice of your first love, there is likely a pattern shared by the men that you are becoming conscious of.
The second half of the dream is a gorgeous, poetic expression of your insides, which are being forcibly dug up. The weeping willow, as well as having a mournful name, is known for its invasive root systems which are so unquenchable that they become dangerous to the house-owners who keep them. They get into your very foundations.
The tree is dead, and that is final. But maybe it was more draining than you knew.
Your dream ends triumphantly with the tree-remover’s smile. Maybe he is the New Englander in you who is straightforward and self-reliant. Digging up such a huge relationship-tree is no small task for the heart, but it is being done methodically and with good humour. The weeping, though long and resilient, certainly won’t go on forever. Inevitably, something new and miraculous will grow up in that space.