The Tigers Come at Night

Image from National Geographic 

Last night I had a dream. It was intense. I dreamt that I was wrestling a tiger. I saw the animal walking in the street, with its golden fur and black stripes. There was a crowd of people around, and I knew I needed to protect them, and save them. I quickly jumped in front of the crowd, and wrestled with the beast. It was a violent fight; I could feel the pain physically in real life as I laid in bed.

As I struggled to take out the tiger, there was nothing to grab onto. There was no way to pull it down -- it was too powerful. I was on its back, and the only thing I could grab was its mouth, to try and hold it shut. But I would not let go, because as I wrestled, I gave everyone else enough time to get away from it, and run to safety. I continued with the brawl, but I was losing my strength, and my will to keep fighting. I was not going to quit until I was dead.

And then, out of nowhere, there was a man who came to help me. He jumped on the tiger and allowed me a break for awhile from the struggle. I was lying wounded on the road, but I was able to breathe and rest, as he protected me from the ferocious animal. I watched this man as he fought the tiger with great strength and courage. I watched him and wondered who he was; who was this man who came to protect me? Who was this man who saved me from the tiger? I needed to know...

And then I woke-up.

As I laid in my bed in the middle of the night, my mind and body were spinning. I felt like I had actually been in the tiger fight; I felt beat-up and weary from the struggle. I tried to process what I had just beheld, because it was so real and so intense. I thought maybe I should get up, and write it down, because it was so profound. But then I decided there was no way I would forget the dream, and I didn't. It was the first thing I thought of when I woke-up to my alarm.

Before I could fall back asleep, my mind had to process what just happened. Some dreams mean nothing, and some dreams mean everything. This dream was important. As I was considering the dream, the lyrics to a song came to mind, and kept repeating themselves over and over...

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hopes apart
And they turn your dreams to shame

I felt very strongly that the "tiger" was trying to defeat me. I had been feeling ill, and weary, and vulnerable, and my mind was not as strong as it normally is. When you are weak and weary is a great time for fear and worry to sneak in. The tiger was symbolic of: fear, worry, grief, despair, pain, etc.

Those "tigers" have been whispering in my ears a lot lately, trying to tear my hopes apart. It has been hard. But I will not let them win. As sorrow and grief scrape and claw at my soul, I will continue to scrape and claw back. I have dreams. I have beautiful dreams for the future. My heart is filled with hope in my waking hours, though my fears often become manifest at night. It is a struggle. It is a fight. Happiness is not felt without an opposing force. And I have felt both, intensely.

Though I grow weary in the battle sometimes, I will never give up the fight for my dreams -- no, not ever. 

I will never stop fighting for joy. I will never stop hanging on to happiness. I will never stop clinging to courage.

There are some other song lyrics that apply to my fighting spirit...

I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire
Cause I am a champion, and you're gonna hear me roar
Louder, louder than a lion
Cause I am a champion, and you're gonna hear me roar... 

You're gonna hear me roar!

Oh, and the man who stepped in and saved me from the tiger? Who is he? 

That is something I would sure like to know...