the phoenix rising out of the ashes

I've completed yet another long Trans-Atlantic flight, and I'm proud of myself for completing the plane trip. "It wasn't that bad," I told myself proudly. Then I looked down at my body. On the whole front of my left thigh, traveling down my leg is a huge tattoo of a phoenix in flight, rising out of the ashes. On my whole right arm is the same tattoo, and a small tattoo on my lower belly, on the left side. At first I'm intrigued, mesmerized, fascinated, then I'm totally freaked out. TWO HUGE TATTOOS ON MY WHOLE BODY? I'm scared - they're permanent, what am I going to do with those things on me for the rest of my life? I'm scared. I like the little one on my belly (I can't remember what it looks like)... then I wake up.

Now, I don't know dream analysis all that well, but I know that the phoenix and the peacock are both the same, in mythology. They symbolize newness rising out of the dead, transformation, renewal. But man oh man, on almost my ENTIRE body? Phew - that was intense, I'm not even going to lie. Couple that with an almost sleepless night, and you have a laser-focused day of walking the razor's edge, reality-wise. Phoenix? Any thoughts? Or is it just me that thinks it means something? Brightly colored phoenixes, their graceful feathers swirling around them, their flame red bodies sleek and muscular, their beaks screaming in silence. What oh what? I just don't know.