(Sunday, February 8, 2026)
I am nightly incubating, hoping for a story dream and a healing dream. I did see a surprising web post yesterday about the huge benefit that biking, even electric biking, has for cognition. I strongly felt that way in the summer and fall when I biked for miles and miles. I am ready to bike at the end of winter, once the temperature gets close to 35/40 degrees and the streets are clear of ice.
(Sunday, February 8, 2026) third quarter moon Scorpio / tarot Hanged Man
My memory of the dream begins in a giant residence with many, many stories. Maybe endless. My mother and sister Jo are around, but I am not interacting with them at the moment. The rooms are very bright white, as are the hallways and staircases. I don’t see any windows, maybe because I am focused on a hallway, heading downstairs. A bunch of us have decided to go play together in a gym. Jo is not going to join. My old boss Louis seems to be in charge, the “captain” of the sporting event.
We walk outdoors. The environment is quiet nature, not a large city. Prairie, not a forest. Kitty Snowball is walking alongside me.
We arrive at the gym. Two open doors are wide and tall (as large as the garage doors I see at our local Nicollet fire station). We enter the court on the left. There is a court on the right. They are connected by another huge, open doorway that can be closed with draped partitions. The floors are wood, like old basketball courts. Yet there are no hoops, and there are no tennis/pickleball/volleyball posts.
Each of us has brought a box with a brand new ball inside, different kinds of balls. Mine is a tennis ball. I am ready to hit it with a racket to begin playing with Louis. But I see white Snowball sitting in the middle of the court and I worry he will get hit by a ball. I hold him and head back to our home, our mansion.
We reach an area close to the human residence, containing multiple animal shelters that are narrow little towers. I open a door to the first one. I see birds inside, and a small, square wooden cabinet-door near the ceiling. It gets dramatically pushed open by an angry, evil man who leans out and threatens to kill. He accidentally falls, caused by his emotional aggression, hitting the floor and dying. I am deeply relieved for our safety although I am sorry for his death. Any death.
Day notes:
On Friday afternoon I went for a walk with Cullan and he fell backward on a thick, smooth patch of ice along the sidewalk at 49th and Lyndale. It all happened right in front of me. Shocking. He hit his head and his upper back. He had so much pain in his back, neck and arms that I took him to Park Nicollet Urgent Care. Fortunately his X-ray found no damage to his spine, but the doctor said his pain will last about one week. After we were done at Urgent Care we stopped to let the homeowner know what happened on his property. Hopefully he salted the ice.
This is the second dream I have had lately about worrying about the danger of being hit by a ball.
Synchronicity: Hanged Man. The tarot card I drew after recording my dream seems to symbolize the man who falls (upside down) from the cabinet door. Although in the tarot he symbolizes suspension, change, reversal, sacrifice and rebirth.
(Friday, February 6, 2026)
From February of 2022: “There is a narrow, round shelf inside my clay kiln that is stacked with thick, white, toddler-size square books. Surprising! Under the shelf I see a small, bright-white being, dressed in white, with no hair. Bald. The being perks up from under the shelf and greets me. I have never seen a being like this before. He/she feels like the combination of a cheerful, friendly alien and a tiny, energetic magician. A jester-child from another dimension.”
In the last few days I have been thinking about using clay again for my Edie book. I made two small, simple clay books in the past (toddler-size). But for this one I am considering a different process: make clay left-hand pages that are imagery for the story, then place the writing on paper on the right-hand pages. My green-man clay sculpture inspires me to use native plants over the clay, an unusual procedure. But it works for me. After all, Edie is an HERBALIST! Maybe Bonnie would be able to take flat photographs of the clay pages for me. I can use my years of design experience to create the written pages in Adobe InDesign, then combine the photos and the text. A printed book for my grandkids.
When I reread and reread my dreams, they are written well enough that it is hard to consider how to recreate them into a new story. I might combine elements of my original Edie dream, my Black Sow dream (sow: plant seeds for growth by scattering them upon the earth; sow: a female swine that has born at least one litter of piglets) and my Good Witch of the North dream.
There is a Cornish folk tale called “The Witch’s Pig.” I have two sow dreams:
https://thedreamstersunion.org/black-cat-black-sows-silver-charms/
This dream contains a “female elemental, who is shapeshifting from fairy to sow and back again.”
https://thedreamstersunion.org/black-sow/
In this dream, “I turn to my left to see a giant, black, velvety sow. I am gripped by this vision. The sow stands quietly, patiently, peacefully: luminous with power.”
Day notes:
Edie does remind me of Edgar Cayce. Many of his treatments are homeopathic. They both have full access to the Akashic records. And the meanings of their names are similar.
I put a heater in my basement studio. Now I am spending more useful time here!
