The longer I walk the symbolic path, the more it becomes evident that everything is up for interpretive grabs, including, of all things, carnivorous plants.
When I’m impressed with something consistently, more than once, I know there’s prized meaning in my midst.
These special carnivores came thrice, each appearance serving as a new layer of awareness.
First in dreams (prime awareness), next in meditation (observing awareness), and lastly, I saw a pitcher plant in an ancillary exhibit whilst visiting the museum last week (physical awareness). See the gradual surfacing of presence in multi-layers of consciousness? Cool, yes?
So where does the symbolism come in?
At first, I reasoned I was the fly because I’d been entertaining some really base thoughts lately (small, pesky, primitive, consumptive).
The first of the year had me “all a-buzz” over some grandiose propositions. Since then, my mind was as askew as the flight pattern of the fly, zipping in and out of possibilities (often leading to a complete lack of focus).
It turns out, those propositions were all smoke & mirrors. All illusion. All hype.
So, symbolically I had succumbed to the sticky sweet siren call of the carnivorous pheromones. I got lured in by an illusion. Lulled into the bowels of the digestive juices of the pitcher plant.
I got consumed by the bile of a dream that was not what it seemed.
However, the concepts of “dreams” and “illusions” kept knocking on my psyche’s door. Closer inspection revealed there were never any flies or insects in my dream, meditation or physical experience. Why should I add insect symbolism to the symbolic message if they had not even been presented?
So, I dove back in. Into the intoxicating wiles of the carnivorous plant realm for more meaning.
Epiphany: The plant is the dream.
Consider. Carnivorous (as all) plants are closely aligned with water; the element of dreams, imagination and emotion. Carnivorous plants are masters of wild, dreamy presentation. Their entire design is built on exotic foundation. Otherworldly. Extraterrestrial, almost.
Fodder for the dreaming mind.
These plants typically catch their snacks (insects, primarily) by emitting wooing scents, shimmery bling, and psychedelic charm. They are irresistible.
The call of our dreams is irresistible too. You know what I mean. We all have a dream. It beguiles us. Calls to us. Charms us. The call of our dreams is as irresistible as the narcotic-like trappings of the carnivorous plants.
But, like these plants, our dreams can be wicked in their demands. It’s not enough to be lured in by the dream. The dream needs to be fed.
And our dreams will not tolerate fluff for consumption. No way. Like the pitcher plant, our dreams need meaty sustenance. Real food. Protein. The stuff that builds hearty growth and strudy foundations.
If not fed properly, our dreams can consume us. Indeed, some carnivorous plants ingest themselves. Self-cannibalization. Tasty.
I find it curious I keep honing in on a specific carnivorous plant, the pitcher plant – who is also known as the “pitfall plant.”
And that leads me to some parting symbolic impressions about carnivorous plants:
- Avoid “pitfalls” by identifying the dream,
- nurture it,
- feed your dream REAL food,
- and let the dream charm your socks off
- (just don’t be cannibalized by it).
Wikipedia has a nice article on carnivorous plants (here) if you’re interested.
Photo by Blmurch on Flickr, viewable here.
Some other pages that might capture your imagination:
Post script: For you vegans & vegetarians, I’m not implying meat is “real food” – it’s just an expression for creative purpose. :-)