Posted by: starrystez | February 15, 2015

Virgin and a son (dream)

I had a very interesting dream last night but haven’t yet worked out its meaning. Writing it down can help as often I made sudden associations through the writing process, so here goes. If anyone has any thoughts or comments in response to this dream feel free to leave them, as always.

I was sitting at a table surrounded by a few teachers who I was at secondary (high) school with. They all looked much older than they were back then. There was a book in front of me and I was searching for my name among many others to remind myself what GSCE results I had achieved. (These are the final school qualifications you come away with in the UK). I think I saw a ‘B’ for English, which indeed I did get in real life. I also seem to recall that I did well in biology but badly in physics. This doesn’t reflect real life as I did equally well in all sciences.

I vaguely remember some emotional pain at having no friends. This was the case in real life. I can’t remember much about this in the dream but the pain of being alone stood out.

Anyhow, the main part I remember is this: A woman (perhaps one of my now-elderly teachers) said to me: ‘I thought you were a virgin.’ I was surprised and said ‘No’ but inwardly I was thinking ‘Of course not. I have a son’ (which in real life is true). The teacher then said ‘Do you feel any shame about it’ to which I responded ‘No. It was what it was.’ There was some understanding on my part that she was talking about the shame of not having had sex! This is kind of backwards in religious eyes but nonetheless logical in the dream.

The other thing I remember is gripping onto some kind of material which was meant to be symbolic of something. The same teacher said ‘What does that represent to you?’. She said it was time for a break but that I needed to reflect on what the material meant. I kept thinking ‘Comfort’ but there was a vague understanding that everything was inside me and what was outside didn’t really matter much.

I also remember having to guess how much the contents of a bag were and I said 36p but in fact it was 30p and I lost. I thought to myself that nearly everyone else had won something.

There are clear religious undertones in this dream. What I can’t work out is how they relate to me and why they are back to front. I will start at the beginning. I am sitting at a table which suggests communion or connection, some way of relating to others, or perhaps seeking guidance or advice. Indeed, dreaming of teachers would tie in with this. The fact my teachers are elderly may symbolise inner wisdom; however, these teachers are also figments of the past, suggesting a lesson that has been learnt, or is perhaps outdated. Interestingly, I am searching for my name and my grades as if to prove to myself that I am capable. While looking for my ‘B’ grade I was aware that many others in my class obtained ‘A’s but that my B still proved I had what it takes, as I was in a ‘high’ set. In real life I was in the highest set for English language and literature and, as I mentioned previously, I did indeed come away with a B grade.

Out of interest, I looked up what the letter ‘B’ might mean in a dream. I was surprised by the findings:

The letter B in a dream represents feelings about yourself or some area of your life not being easy. Never having things given to you. Having to earn everything you have. No special treatment.

Negatively, the letter B may represent jealousy of others who always have easier lives or more special treatment than you.

From the Dream Moods Dictionary.

Wow. Sad to say, I often feel like this. I feel like my life has been an endless struggle while many people have it much easier. I wish I could accept my lot gracefully but i find that hard. It is not so much that I want to be ‘special’ but for things to be a little easier. In recent months they have been to an extent and I’m grateful for that. I know that I am no more worthy of having an easier life than the next person and whatever I have is a gift, but this is one area with which I am still trying to find peace.


In my dream I did well in biology, but not in physics. Biology is the essence of life, physics is (perhaps) more the mechanics of what we observe. I’m not too sure of this part but I feel it is relevant that I did well in biology but not in physics. Maybe biology is natural to us whereas physics is the material world we are trying to understand.

I had very few friends at school and this is a source of grief that crops up in dreams from time to time. Along with this is the sense of being alone in life, which of course we all are in essence.

Now the teacher is interesting. She told me she thought I was a virgin. My response is ‘no’ but I thought to myself ‘I have a son.’  A virgin may symbolise the Virgin Mary and my response certainly suggests strong religious symbolism here, but more generally a virgin symbolises one’s potential, purity and innocence. It may refer to a time before the symbolic ‘fall from grace’ whereby life became much more painful. I wonder here if this is actually related to my relationship with my son and that this relates to the shame. I replied ‘It was what it was’ suggesting that I has come to terms with a period in my life, such as the pain of wishing life had been different. The belief that she was referring to sex is actually symbolic of wholeness/oneness, or connection to spirit. So here the shame may also refer to the fall from grace, perhaps my feelings about my life. This is what I mean about the dream being back to front. It needs a bit more reflection but this is what I can come up with in the moment.

My sense of the material I held is that it literally represents everything material. This would also link to the physics grade. I am clinging to worldly things, or perhaps beliefs or feelings, but really everything I need is inside me, growing from its purest potential. Like Virgin Mary, I have given birth to a son, but my feelings about this are complicated and ever evolving. Perhaps this is a reminder to have faith that my life is playing out as it is meant to. It is all the result of Divine Grace.

For the final part of the dream I looked up the two numbers and found something very interesting.

I put my hand into the bag, didn’t feel much, so I guessed it was worth 36p.

The significance of 36:

It is the ratio of individual karma, 6, to the organisation of the universe, 30, and the cosmic solidarity which results from it in the natural cycles.

I compared to the significance of 30, which I was TOLD the bag was worth:

Represents the perfect balance in the cosmic organisation.

Both are taken from

So I believe that my life is the result of individual karma (36) whereas in fact I am part of the universe which is perfectly balanced (30). In short: trust.

I have no idea whether any of this is what my dream meant but like anything I have to go on trust. At the very least it has given me plenty of food for thought.

Posted by: starrystez | February 13, 2015

Brief seaside visit

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Being close to the sea is always a blessing and last weekend myself and my boyfriend paid a quick visit to the local pier after a delicious lunch in a recently opened vegetarian cafe in town. It was too cold and we were too tired to walk down the pier itself – maybe another day – but it was enough to sit on a nearby bench and watch the waves break on the pebbles. Seagulls soared above the shoreline, the occasional one swooping down to pick up some leftover sandwich from a tourist’s lunch. A few yards from where we sat another bird graced the shingle, I believe it may have been a pied wagtail, but not totally sure. So much beauty in one small space.

Posted by: starrystez | February 12, 2015

An autistic child


As much as my heart aches sometimes with the struggle of trying to cope, I know it must be worse for my son feeling so frustrated and unable to communicate sufficiently with the world. I try to make it about him and not me but that’s not always easy. He was here last night, his first overnight in a long while, and it did not go well. He became agitated and angry when things didn’t work as quickly as he wanted and yanked my arm so hard I nearly went to the floor! Then he threw himself against the washing airer and broke it. He would’ve gone for the television set but thankfully I was at least able to stop him doing that.

My legs ache through to the bone today and I feel sick. I prayed for an easy time for us both but that didn’t happen for whatever reason. It is what it is. I can only do my best and the same is true for him. It is just so sad that our worlds collide in the process, often literally.

I long for strength and courage to be there for him in the way he needs and the way I can manage, for as long as I can be. I pray for every parent of a challenging child to know they are not alone and isolated as I have so often felt along the journey.

Posted by: starrystez | February 4, 2015

Shedding the Past as an act of Power and Love

Amazing post – much food for thought for me right now.

Posted by: starrystez | January 31, 2015

An issue ready to be healed

As is often the case after experiencing a new level of inner peace, a childhood issue has unexpectedly come up for healing. I say unexpectedly because it’s not new to me, yet I had not experienced the associated emotions until now. Divine timing ensures that these things surface to be worked through and let go of when the time is right and not before. I want to write about it here so I can processed it, now am I heard, and hopefully let go.

Many of you know that I have struggled with serious autoimmune illness for much of my adult life. One of its manifestations is severe allergies and intolerances to the extent that I really can’t eat very much without developing a reaction. The other day I had some potatoes with my dinner, rather foolishly on hindsight, but anyhow soon afterwards I developed a racing heart, adrenalin surges (a bit like ‘fight or flight’) and burning pain in both legs which continued that night. I also react in varying ways to refined sugar, grains, yeast, dairy, all processed food, red meat, most legumes including peanuts, seeds, tomatoes, onions and probably more that I’ve forgotten about. My digestive system is very poor and flares up regularly.

Over the years I have talked to many alternative therapists and tried many different things, but largely to no avail. It does not help that I have a sugar addiction, or I should say used to. Recently I have cut out most refined sugar which has made a bit of a difference particularly to my migraines which I get often.

Anyway, the connection to my childhood issue is this: my mother did not bother about giving me a healthy diet. Indeed I rarely had any meals at all and lived on junk. Throughout my time at primary and secondary schools I took a packed lunch which consisted of a sugar drink, a bar of (dairy) chocolate and a packet of crisps. That was all. When I went home I’d eat more of the same. My mother gave me money to go to the shop and I’d get two bags of crisps and two bars of chocolate which I’d take to my bedroom and eat alone.

What I remember most is feeling embarrassed one day when my closest friend asked me what i had for lunch. She knew because we ate together, but she must’ve been shocked at my unhealthy box compared to her sandwiches, yoghurt, fruit and bottled water.

I became seriously ill when I moved to university. Instinctively I began to look at my diet. I was so addicted to sugar and dairy by this time that I didn’t cut them out but I made some dramatic changes and eat three meals per day. As I was still attached to my mother and very homesick I made weekly trips home by train. Along with me I brought at least one carrier bag full of food because my mother never had anything in the house. Each week I’d go home carrying my own food to ensure I’d have enough to eat.

It hurt when my new-found uni friends talked about going home to be ‘pampered’ by loving parents. They’d talk about having ‘nice home cooked food’ and my heart would feel sad. But I never really processed those feelings. It wasn’t long before I realised that I didn’t really want to go home. I developed severe allergies to everything in my old home; the cats, the dog, the chemicals, my mum’s perfume, probably my mum herself. Even my body was telling me this wasn’t a good place to be. I’d arrive and just an hour later I’d be sneezing uncontrollably, developing a temperature and need to go to bed. After a few months I rarely went home. In the second year of university I lodged with a couple who fed me properly and I started to feel a bit better. Sadly my illness worsened a few years after university but I look proudly at what I achieved there, alone.

Why has this come up now? After my reaction to the potatoes I felt compassion for my body. It has been through so much and tried to function on very little fuel. I lived on crisps (potatoes), sugar and dairy for much of my childhood, all of which I am now severely allergic to. Perhaps for the first time I can bring myself to consider why my body struggles so much. I realise it has done the best it can. It had very little nourishment growing up. With these realisations come inevitable anger and hurt. Why did my mother not feed me properly? Did I not matter? Didn’t I deserve good food like my friends? Wasn’t I worth caring about?  Why did I have to do it myself?

In addition, my current boyfriend has a very loving mother who even now still pops meals over now and then. Food is associated with nurturing. And that’s what I missed out on: emotional and physical nurturing. I learned I had to give that to myself. And I do. But I am still learning.

It hurts. I know the hurt will pass. I know my mother was very depressed while I was growing up. I know she is human and made mistakes. I don’t ‘know’ that my problems now were caused by the lack of food and blaming would not help. I guess it’s just hard for me to understand. I was seriously depressed while trying to cope with my son while being ill, yet I’d never let him eat rubbish. In fact I’d cry if he so much as developed a virus due to my paranoia that I’d fed him the wrong foods, or not fed him enough.

As my post about the child within says, I know I have to remember my spiritual self who is equal to everyone else on this planet. It is part of the human condition that I experienced what I did. Maybe it was an inevitable part of my journey. This new hurt will rise up and be transformed as part of that awareness.

Thank you for reading.

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