Indian Dreams

I held tight to a dream this morning to assess it: figure out what it means. I found myself at a gathering of Indian women, having climbed up winding stairs to a room where they had gathered and were getting dressed in regalia.

My regalia was at home, and I was chagrined: I didn’t realize we were supposed to have our regalia, and while I was thinking this, a hand-crafted bag with beaded details flew from a chair and stuck to my back. One of the women walked over to me and gently told me that I needed my outfit, and I apologized, and then said the bag had found me.

She took the bag and a few moments later another garment flew through the room and landed on my back. So the woman began gathering clothing for me to wear, and I told her I was Osage. Oh, she said, and mentioned a man’s name who was also Osage. Then the men began to arrive, and a few lads came over to introduce themselves, cuffing one another like boys in a story.

And then I woke.

I’ve decided not to interpret the dream, but rather, let it take its own gentle time to tell me what it means.


About Cynthia Coleman Emery

Professor and researcher at Portland State University who studies science communication, particularly issues that impact American Indians. Dr. Coleman is an enrolled citizen of the Osage Nation.
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