The Collective Unconscious, or a Past Life

Last night I was a Japanese archer in the forest battling opposing forces. I'm not sure if I was Japanese or not, as I never saw my own face, but my army certainly was... as were our enemies.

It was a dream that started in my bedroom, or at least a place that I had the same sense of comfort that I do in my bedroom. In reality, it was like a dwelling of some sort that had three walls. The fourth wall opened down into a large forested ravine. I picked up a bow for the first time and tried to pull the string back with amazing difficulty.

I grew.

I became a warrior-lord wearing a beautiful set of armour. My bedroom became a castle with high fortified walls sloping down into the forest. I listened to the animals of my forest. They told me of the approaching army. I do not know the reason for their attack. The animals never told me that part. Animals can't read the motives of humans, perhaps.

I knew they were coming. I knew they were strong. But they didn't know I knew. I took a small team of archers down the ravine and sat in waiting. They approached unarmed, planning to attack later. They settled together in a basin of the forest. We had the high ground.

I drew back my bow with ease and remembered how hard it had been as a boy. I could feel the tension of both the bow-string and the decision to make the first strike in my chest. It was the feeling of power. My arrow was not pointed. Rather, it had a blunt cylinder attached to the end of it, though I have no idea what it was for. It looked like it should be lit on fire, but I never lit it.

Our opponents never had a chance. We were spearing fish in a small puddle as we sat safely up on the rocks.