Dreaming of a Monarch Book
In a dream: I stand at tall windows overlooking a big city. I’m here to sign a publishing agreement about my butterfly book. Two women and I laugh with delight as we imagine what might be.
A man in a business suit joins us carrying a shallow bowl of thick black ink. He carefully places the bowl on the table, puts his palm in the ink, and leaves his hand print on a piece of thick white paper. His slow movements are ritualistic and ceremonial.
“I want ink, too,” I say.
He laughs. “Yes, that’s what we’re doing.” He pours more ink into the bowl and I dip my hand in and place my palm print on the paper.
I have questions, but must first finish the book. I worry about finding my way home where the butterflies live, but these people will help me. There is quiet joy as I realize the book is almost finished.
***
I wake up with a knot of fear in my belly and reach over to my bedside table for a notebook and pen so I can write down the dream. Is the book nearly finished? I’m unsure. It’s hard to feel enthusiastic about writing this book when Monarchs haven’t arrived although they used to be here in June. What is this dream telling me?
I approach the dream images with sensation rather than a heady search for symbolism. What color is the ink? How does it feel on my fingers? What is it like to stand at a glass city window instead of near my home windows overlooking fields and forests? I feel the solemnity of an ancient ritual.
Talking to the two friends feels like waking experience, but the inky handprints hold the mystery. My black stained hand presses into the paper. It’s a sacred sealing of a deal.
***
What does the dream say in symbolic language? Since I don’t know, I stay with the images and hope the meaning will reveal itself in time. My hiking boots feel out of place in the city, but I connect with these people through our shared love of Monarchs. They don’t care about my shoes.
I love the black and yellow Monarch caterpillars as they grow and transform into a green chrysalis pearl. The slow darkening of the green chrysalis with black and orange wings showing through translucent chrysalis skin is nature’s magic.
Each year I’ve raised Monarchs, I wait for the splitting of the first chrysalis. A butterfly somersaults out and hangs with her legs while slowly straightening a body that had curled inside the chrysalis like a baby in a bunting. The newly eclosed butterfly soon flaps her wings to dry them before attempting to fly. Her proboscis unfurls from a tight coil in preparation for sipping flower nectar. I trust her navigation skills as she opens her wings and rides a breeze south. I trust she’s teaching me something about transformation and soul.
Humans love butterflies, so I’m not the only one. Are you thrilled, too? Come be with me and we’ll dream about butterflies.
***
I haven’t seen a single Monarch in 2024, but there’s still time. Their population in the Biopreserve in Mexico dropped 60% this past winter because of drought. July 15 is the latest arrival since I began tending Monarchs. If even one arrives, she can lay over 300 eggs in my fields of plentiful milkweed. I’ll be out in my fields every morning watching for Monarchs and protecting those eggs.
For earlier posts about preserving Monarchs and their habitat, see Monarch Medicine: A Meditation on Transformation . For images of many of the transformations I describe in this blog, see Somersaulting into Life: A Monarch Butterfly Birth in Photos. I haven’t given up hope.
Lin Gregory
What a wonderful dream Elaine – as I read about the hand in ink and the handprint my immediate thought was rubber stamping your book and then I read the comments… it’s definitely a seal of approval as Deborah and others have mentioned. I do hope you have Monarchs soon, I love to hear your stories about nurturing the eggs and their progress to eclosed butterflies. We have had so few butterflies here this year but yesterday temperatures went up to 30degrees and we took a 7 mile hike around a beautiful part of the Sussex countryside where we saw many different varieties taking our list to 22. The most colourful was the Silver Washed Fritillary – such a joy after so many dull, butterflyless (if there is such a word!) days. May the monarchs make their way to your fields soon, love and light.
Elaine Mansfield
It was a powerful dream and I had it when I was beginning to get sick in mid winter. My illness is part of the unpacking, but I didn’t try to work that into my blog because I don’t yet understand. I’ve had one adult Monarch (I think it was a male, but I couldn’t see the whole back wing to identify) and I’ve gathered three eggs on milkweed. Two are now tiny caterpillars and one hasn’t emerged from the egg. I used to find 15 eggs on one milkweed plant but last year it was only a few. This year I will stop looking and wait for them to visit milkweed in my flower garden because searching plants for signs of Monarchs (holes chewed in the leaves) isn’t workint out without munching caterpillars. If butterflies tell the story, we’ve had a fast climate collapse. I’m glad you had a good butterfly day yesterday. This year, I have more Fritillary than any other kind of butterfly. I just checked and my two tiny Monarch caterpillars are eating holes in the milkweed where they’re quarantined from hungry spiders and ladybugs. They’re happy if have milkweed. Sending you love and butterflies.
Susan scott
What a rich dream Elaine full of symbols, their meaning still to be teased. You’ll get to it when you do. I hope by now you’ve caught sight of a monarch or two. I know their population is down hugely which makes it extra exciting when one is sighted.
Elaine Mansfield
Isn’t it an amazing dream? I haven’t had an archetypal dream like that for a long time, even ending with four characters–the man, two young women, and me. I agree the meaning will come when it does as long as I keep my mind on the dream. I haven’t seen a Monarch, but the man who tends my land saw a few far from the house. There aren’t many, but a fertilized female is a prolific egg layer, so I’m not ready to give up. I hope all is well in your world, Susan.
Aladin Fazel
What a fascinating dream! It has many symbols. I wish Al were here because he’s always good at interpreting. I had to pass, though; my attention was more focused on the ink and the handprint! I believe that is the main point of your dream.
And, dear Elaine, the Monarch knows when the right time to appear is, and it is good so! Thank you for sharing your dream and thoughts with us, my dear friend: love and blessing.
Elaine Mansfield
I agree the dream is fascinating, Aladin. I’m less interested in interpreting than allowing the meaning to unfold in time. I trust that will happen since this dream is often on my mind and in my heart. It’s working on me. I agree the focus is the ink and handprint and a ceremonial ritual and commitment. Yes, the Monarchs will come in their own time. My impatience is getting strong lessons and I’m also learning how much I need others. My son who lives nearby has been a big help through this illness driving me to medical tests, getting to know the doctors (there have been many), and making sure he understands as much as possible. It’s wonderful to have support when we need it. Thank you for your kindness, love, and blessing. We live in a crazed angry world, and we need each other.
Jean Raffa
Your dream is fascinating. If this were my dream, one of my associations would be that my writer animus has put his stamp of approval on our project. As a fingerprint is a mark that identifies and legitimizes one’s identity, so perhaps does his handprint , then mine, identify us as the legitimate authors of our butterfly book. They also affirm and ritualize our commitment to see it through to publication. My animus and I seem to have made a deal! Let’s do this! Whatever your dream may mean, thank you for sharing it, along with your process of working on it.
Elaine Mansfield
I agree, Jeanie. I’ve been working with Active Imagination, and my dream man is definitely my mature writer animus and we’ve made a deal to do this. I’ll see how it unfolds. There are so few butterflies of any sort this year, but sometimes they show up in August. I can work with all my old stories, but there’s nothing like the inspiration of those beautiful wings and butterflies in the flowers planted just for them. I am committed to the project with no clear vision of how it should unfold. Even more I’m committed to getting well which also takes patience and persistence. I’ve struggled with illness a few times in the past, but not for such a long time. I take Vic as my model to simultaneously do the work and care for the body. I’m glad you’re having a wonderful summer in the mountains.
Marian Beaman
I agree with you and Deborah: “. . . the act of putting your hand in the bowl of ink, feels like your psyche has issued forth its own seal of approval.” The tone of your post felt dreamy, Elaine. And I join you in hope for two dreams to come true: Monarchs on your home turf and a Monarch book in your hands when it is time. May you experience a flash of orange wings and total fixes for your website, which seems to be working fine on my end. 😀
Elaine Mansfield
Thank you for hoping that my two dreams come together. Two eggs are changing, so I keep running into the kitchen to look in their container and watch for a little black head to emerge from the eggs attached to milkweed leaves. A big part of my book issue has been my struggle with health. The pulmonologist gave me a new, less strong medication, and I have an appointment with a well-regarded herbalist on Aug. 1. I’m persistent! Others tell me my website looks fine to them but it looks scrambled in my WordPress view, so it’s causing extra work. I want to trim it of unneeded old material. That will also happen in early August. I hope you are well in every way.
Lauren Cottrell Banner
Cool dream Elaine. The butterflies not coming is part of the story. Sad if they never come of course, but no less interesting in the larger picture. The book is about you and the Monarch saga. You certainly have left your imprint on our minds about them through your experiences. Maybe there can be some pages at the end like a workbook people can fill in their experiences and drawings of Monarchs in their area. They can leave their imprint too. As always I so appreciate your attitudes and intentions to let nature speak to you.
Elaine Mansfield
I agree it’s part of the story, Lauren. Eventually the Monarchs and I won’t spend time together because they’re gone or I’ll be gone. It’s only a matter of time. Meanwhile I was out looking for them this morning. They still might arrive late since Matt thinks he saw a few in the Joe Pyeweed in the swamp a few days ago. Who could resist a name like Joe Pyeweed? Thank you for your encouraging thoughts and ideas. Because of inner and outer stormy weather, I haven’t explored the dream with active imagination, but I will. Sending you love from the land of rain storms.
Deborah Gregory
Wow, Elaine, what a truly remarkable dream you’ve had! Perhaps it’s just me, but a black butterfly instantly came to mind when I look at, and think about, those mysterious inky handprints. In addition to their life-death-rebirth cycle symbolism, black butterflies are considered to be “harbingers of change.” Well, whatever the meaning, I agree with you, the act of putting your hand in the bowl of ink, feels like your psyche has issued forth its own seal of approval.
I’m sure you’ve already considered using Jung’s tool of Active Imagination with the business man. I can already imagine the wonderful conversations you will have. I love how your publishing team, otherwise known as your ‘inner’ resources, not only show up but also reassure you that support is there from ‘within’. I’m guessing that, as the Monarchs returned on the 15th last year, they may return within the next few days. I really hope so! Love and light, Deborah.
Elaine Mansfield
I hope you’re having a rejuvinating summer, Deborah. The handprint didn’t feel like a butterfly, but more like the seal of a sacred agreement. I’m unclear about the exact symbolic meaning but it will reveal itself. It’s now a few days later and I haven’t seen one Monarch and haven’t had the quiet I need for Active Imagination. Yesterday we experienced huge storms here and power outages, so my son was here much of the day. I had a hard time getting focused and I’m still struggling with my website. My blog didn’t go out last night, so that has to be dealt with today. It will get fixed somehow. Change will come, one way or other.
I’m out to take a hike to see what I find in the milkweed fields other than wet trails. I keep hoping for a flash of orange wings. I do have many Fritillary in some of the flowers, but few Swallowtails. It’s been a strange summer in many ways–wet, hot, and it’s best for me to spend less time reading news. Sending love on this outwardly peaceful morning. Out I go to fill the birdfeeders and search for Monarchs.
Deborah Gregory
The weather here on the south coast has turned warm and sunny, so lots of writing getting done in the poet’s wife’s garden! From your reply to Lauren, I note that Monarchs are in your area, so hoping they’ll flutter your way real soon and leave lots of eggs for you to harvest. No Monarch butterflies (I would go crazy!) here but in the last few days our butterfly watch list has risen to twenty different varieties spotted now. Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that you’re still having problems with your website, just to let you know here in the UK, everything looks great this end. Sending much love and light across the ocean and oak tops between us, Deborah.
Elaine Mansfield
I’m glad you’re seeing many butterflies. They lift the spirits. I see some flitting and floating over my fields, but they are too far away to identify. I’m just glad they’re here, although I think they’re Swallowtails and not Monarchs. Jill will visit in early April and we’ll get my website sorted out, mostly by simplifying. She also says it looks fine in her view, but it’s cumbersome for me to work with revisions are needed in some areas. Sending love, light, gorgeous flowers, butterflies, and long bike rides to you and Lin.