The Chinese New Year arrives this week. A culture with so much impact on the world can hardly be ignored. “The Year of the Dragon” suggests an energetic shift on the planet. The protective and powerful dragon symbolizes wisdom and prosperity. Generous, benevolent, and lucky, the dragon can transform into any type of creature and overcome all challenges.

Taming and transforming the multiple myeloma beast takes more than a dragon, but inspiration helps. Sometimes the dreams that occur during sleep can lead to new meaning and ways to see how the mind and body work together.

The science of medicine does not pay much attention to mythology, astrology, or dreams. Many consider dreams as nothing more than chemical phenomena of the brain.

I was reminded of “chemo dreams” when I read Kevin Jones’ recent Beacon column, Me vs. MM: The Psychological Barrier ^[1].

Daily life is a waking dream that we call reality, but the activity of our sleeping mind produces an alternate reality that often feels just as lively. The chemo dream seems to be a combination of the two – a parallel universe of sorts.

I experienced some drug-induced dream states during my treatment days, especially during a hospitalization. These seem to have been triggered by the powerlessness that comes with being a patient.

One such dream took place in the very room in which I was being treated. Staff streamed in and out checking and measuring me, and the machines kept beeping. This sounds fairly routine, but in the dream, I believed that I was locked in the room and the victim of a sinister experiment.

The condition of serious illness does leave one in a state of suspended understanding. We really do not know what is happening to us. The origination of the term “patient” implies an individual who must wait, and wait – and wait even more. The only option is patience.

The dreams tapered off, but they resumed long after I discontinued all medications. A rich dream life emerged to include lions, tigers, and bears. All sorts of non-human life forms have entered my dreams –  fish, rats, birds, spiders, beasts. I consider these my survival dreams.

Engaging with the natural world in dreams has connected me more solidly to the life force. Shamanistic cultures have always known this.

Another dream featured frightening, but humorous-looking, Dr. Seuss-style mythical creatures moving toward me as I was backed up against a wall. It was a moment of active dreaming where I intentionally called out to them, “Go away!” Surprisingly, the beasts turned around and left me alone.

Dreams of creatures have stopped, but dreaming has continued.

People commonly dream of being in unfamiliar places, wearing the wrong clothes, etc.

Just last week, one of those dreams appeared to me. I was walking down the street when I realized that my hair was falling out in clumps (a frightful moment for anyone who has ever lost their hair during chemo). I wanted to head back to the place where I was staying, but I did not know which way to go. I was going to call someone, but I did not have my cell phone. I was also wearing no shoes.

We’ve all been in similar dream situations. Waking up to our “real life” is a relief. Finding meaning takes more time and effort for those who choose to go there. Messengers within and around us have wisdom to share. I regard my dreams as an extension of my waking life.

If the dragon year can inspire transformation and rising to the challenges of the day, I’m listening. Drink some tea, and open a fortune cookie. Cheers!