The Murder of the Queen

The dream blog today is one I wish I did not have to write, but it is one that must be done. I got home this morning after a long night of working at the store stocking shelves. I bought a six pack of Blue Moon Belgian White Ale. I felt compelled to do something I don't normally do; I had beer for breakfast. After I had this dream today I think I know why I unconsciously engaged in this unusual ritual. I will try to explain after I tell you the dream.

I am a young U.S. Coast Guard sailor again. I am aboard my old ship the USCGC STORIS (WMEC-38). She had a long historic career when she was active. She was built in 1942 and was home ported in Kodiak, Alaska. She was a World War II veteran and was one on three coast guard ships to first circumnavigate North America. She was retired in 2007 as the 'Queen of the Fleet'.  I served aboard her with pride from 1987-1991. STORIS was dearly loved by the many sailors that served aboard her during on her long life.

In the dream I am lying in my bunk or the rack as it is more commonly called in sailor lingo. I was hung over from a long night of drinking beers with my shipmates. The ship is underway, I have been allowed to sleep for pity's sake, I guess. A shipmate comes up to my rack and shakes me and tells me we will moor soon. This sailor is with the engineering department. He is a huge bald man about 7 foot tall and looks a lot like the actor/wrestler Dwayne Johnson, "The Rock".

I get up and go look out a porthole. I see a very long pier flash close by us. The pier has humongous wooden pylons and towers way above the water line. It must be low tide. I quickly get dressed and make my way down a rear passage way and reach a ladder below the fantail at the back end of the ship. I climb the ladder and exit out on deck through an open hatch. I look around and I see a walkway close along side the ship with scaffolding below it. I jump off the fantail deck onto this walkway and climb down the scaffolding to below the ship. We are on dry land! I am below the ship. The ship is being lower onto wooden blocks by the biggest crane I have ever seen. I duck down to my knees. I am afraid I might get crushed down here.  STORIS comes to rest on the wooden blocks. I see a gang plank lowered into place by another smaller crane to the fly bridge deck. A bridge crew of about five or six people make their  down the gang plank. They are civilians and not Coasties. Startled by this I wake up.

Now back to the question of why I had a beer this morning. I believe it was a prompting from the collective unconscious. Today is the six month mark of the death and dismemberment of the 'Queen of the Fleet'. STORIS was cruelly murdered by a corrupt government, a failed business man from San Diego, California and a Mexican scrap yard. Former shipmates worked tirelessly for years to try to save her to become a museum ship only to have their efforts slapped down in the end.  It is a tragically sad story.

I am certain on this six month mark my shipmate's thoughts are with our beloved Queen who is now physically gone, but her spirit still lingers. The STORIS's historic nickname was the 'Galloping Ghost of the Alaskan Coast'. It was a calling from the unconscious that I should have that beer this morning in remembrance of the Queen. I would not be surprised if many of my former shipmates got the same call today.

I could talk here about the anima, the feminine principle, embodied by STORIS in this dream. STORIS is the divine feminine aspect in this dream. Her death is literal and symbolic. She was a sacrifice in the control system and a warning to wake up to higher consciousness. A corrupt program or virus has infected the system. It is interesting that I am almost crushed under the weight of the burden of her memory. The wood blocks (a natural substance) prevent me from being crushed. I am brought to my knees in the shadow of the Queen. The civilian crew represent the rats that aid in her demise. They are willing agents in the system. Like Judas they have received their talents of silver for their work.

The Jungian would consider the death of the Queen a step toward individuation for me as the dreamer.  Death is change and change will enlarge conscious and individual growth. The internal feminine remains and individual (the dreamer) must either grow or die. This is very much like when my biological mother died. It is time to pick up the pieces and move upward and onward with my life both the conscious and unconscious parts of it. The seen and unseen complement each other and progress and grow out of a tragedy.

Right now I must dress for work and will for the whole night ponder the lessons learned from this dream and hope I can integrate it into my life for something good. Life and time marches relentlessly on. My head and mind hurts both physically, and spiritually.