I have walked into my dining room and I am looking at the table. I am embarrassed because I don't know why I went there. As I look across the table I am startled by a man standing there. It hurts to look at his face, I don't want to. He has three lines of scars trisecting his face, a horrific wound where his mouth should be, and chunks of flesh gouged out of his throat. His eyes are the color of mud and are dull. I DO NOT want to be near this man. He looks angry and predatory.
 
As I try to look away, he speaks and his voice carries no kindness. It is harsh and gravelly, and I know I don't want to hear what he has to say. "You have forgotten me, and I will not tolerate it." I am confused, I know I have never seen him before. I am crying and I don't know why. I do know that he means me no PHYSICAL harm. I can feel my chest going numb.

He speaks again. “I am the Guardian of the forgotten." As he speaks this time I see flashes in my mind of people, some I can name and some I don't know anything about. Shelby Duis. A homeless man I once knew. My daughter. My sister. A child in a soldier's uniform. A woman in her fifties who is being divorced. A dog that has been beaten. A Middle Eastern man behind a fence. A black bird with no talons. A river with trash flowing instead of water. A young woman with no eyes. These all flash through my mind and I cry harder, tears are dripping and my nose is running. This is not a pretty dream. I want out.
 
As I stare at this unwanted intruder, people begin to come and stand by him. They simply stare at me. A white pelican starts to speak and this does not surprise me. "You spoke of the black rhino refusing to breed. You think it has chosen not to be here in this place of violence and destruction. Do you not believe we could make the same decision?"

As the bird spoke, I noticed a woman come and stand with them. I know her but cannot identify her. She is taller than I thought she would be, stronger, and somehow prettier. She stares at me with her arms across her chest. She says nothing. The Guardian speaks again, "You have forgotten us and I will not tolerate it." He repeats this in a shout. "I WILL NOT TOLERATE IT!"  I try to step back, but I am still staring at the woman. She stares back and starts to speak. Suddenly I know who she is, when I hear her voice, my voice, say "What are you going to do about it?"
 
Questions for discussion, writing:

The crowd of forgotten people and beings in this dream is large and specific, many of them known to the dreamer. What forgotten ones—humans and others—does it bring to your mind?

What responsibility do you feel – or take -- for forgotten ones? What is your greatest passion for righting wrongs? Is protecting and remembering the forgotten a special calling for some people or part of every would-be guardian’s calling?
 
The dreamer meets a self who is taller, stronger, prettier. Why do you think she stands among the forgotten? What are you like when you are your truest, best self? Where would that self stand in this dream?

In many traditions this dream would be considered a spirit visitation. What do you think of the idea that spirit guides or guardians might direct us through dreams or mystical experience?

What suffering or injustice is looking you in the face and saying, “What are you going to do about it?”

R.H., N.M.