(Saturday, November 7, 2020, Joe Biden is President-Elect) third-quarter moon Leo / tarot Strength
I have been riding buses and trains in Minneapolis for years, with no permanent, final destination. Finally, I arrive at my Grand Mother (godmother) Marguerite’s home. I enter a private room in an area of the house that is not well-known, crawling onto a single bed where I fall asleep, conversing with my Grand Mother in dreamland. I also perceive my unconscious, sleeping mind. I watch myself sleep.
A very tall man stands beside my Grand Mother. He is the Spiritual Master who has entered my dreams over the last few years.
Marguerite and I discuss house chores. She invites me to stay in this house, a house she has known for decades. She insists it is now MY house. There is so much for me to do, it is overwhelming. I awake and start contemplating all the tasks that need to be accomplished. I perceive a clock that floats in another dimension.
As I move from room to room and organize my list of projects, a fluffy, energetic English shorthair kitten appears. Her name is Susie. She is powerful! She can climb the highest pieces of furniture, she can enter the tightest spaces, she rolls and flips and hunts like a magical little beast. I guess she reminds me of Wyn, who is physically strong, highly perceptive, and dramatically creative. My miracle grandson.
The dream shifts outdoors to the most mundane part of the dream. Chris and I have placed some project parts and equipment on a wooden shelf near the front veranda. Our neighbor Joe (whom I have not met in real life) supports our process and is very positive. He assures me that the house needs a bit of cleaning, but nothing major. He points to a neighbor across the street and says THAT is the house that needs real work.
The dream makes another shift. I am inspecting large, expensive homes with a man who is new in my life. All of the houses have flaws that distress me. Suddenly, the man embraces me from behind and fills my body, mind and spirit with the deepest love. He is my millionaire soulmate! He is going to gift me with a beautiful, perfect mansion that is hundreds of years old. This brings great peace to my heart.
Day notes:
My experience with Jill Purce continues to bring light into my life. In the Vancouver Healing the Ancestors retreat, I called my godmother Marguerite my “true mother.” Now I live a mile from her old Tudor-style house and the Gill Brothers funeral home where her wake was held in 1965. I remember walking together down Lyndale to catch the bus to Annunciation Catholic Church. Our beautiful Washburn watertower that Cullan, Wyn and I visited yesterday reminds me of the Glastonbury Tor (I met Jill at her Glastonbury retreat). Just like the Tor, the Tower is on a high grass bluff with views that extend for miles and miles. There is a walking path on two sides of the Tower, just like the Tor. Washburn sculptures of old knights with giant swords remind me of King Arthur and Excalibur, whose mythology is prominent in Glastonbury. My clay sculpture of the Tor is in my new living room, by the front door. My first memory of the Tall Man is from shortly before my trip to England. The Tall Man and Jill’s husband Rupert Sheldrake were in the same dream.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Washburn_Park_Water_Tower
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glastonbury_Tor
One of my big dreams happened in Glastonbury. I dreamt of a black wolf on my ancestral lands. Several years later, my Ancestry DNA came up as 70% British (Irish, English, Scottish, Welsh). At the time of my dream, I had no idea. Now I know about my 15th century ancestor named Thomas Coxwell whose large estate still exists near Glastonbury. My godmother’s last name was Wolfe.
November 11, 2021: The kitten seems to be a prescient aspect of this dream. Eric Wargo’s book “Precognitive Dreamwork” points out that precognition can often occur one year in advance. In waking life, there is a feral cat I have been feeding since September, and this week I was able to coax her inside for a few minutes. The dream kitty name of Susie strikes me: my grandmother Helen had a lovely little Papillon dog named Susie who was exactly the size and color of the feral cat, mostly white but with large calico spots. The feral calico cat has long white fur. Her golden eyes are round (not slanted), like an English shorthair cat’s eyes.