Horse Ranch, Family Compound

(Thursday, April 21, 2016) full moon Libra and Scorpio / tarot: Hanged Man

Prince Rogers Nelson passes at his Paisley Park “compound”

 

I arrive in my vehicle at a dusty, unpaved parking area surrounded by a rough-hewn timber-rail fence. Western style. The afternoon sun shines golden in a calm sky.

There are two ranch-style homes on the property, a family compound which covers many acres. The house nearest the fenced pen is “the kid’s house.” A boy and a girl are running outside of it, laughing happily together. In this house I sense the connection, the presence of Alea’s mother and stepfather, who own a house in Jackson Hole, Wyoming.

I walk across a small field of wild prairie grass to the home that faces the kid’s house. It has a connection to my mother and father. It is the small ranch-style tract home where I grew up. I spend some time inside, conversing with my parents and doing little chores.

The back side of this house is connected to a large earthen dolmen. At first I assume it is just a hill that cozies up to the building, but when I step outside for a few moments, I notice a square hole cut into the sod. A window of another much older house is visible inside the dark square.

I return to my parents’ house and discover a passage to the dolmen house. At this point in the dream everything becomes finely visual and profoundly real. Not dreamlike at all. Is this an aspect of lucidity? I wish I knew.

The house is constructed of square-cut logs that are weathered and grey. The fibers, the grains of the wood are very sharply detailed to my eye. Handmade, heavily varnished wooden tables near a stone hearth are etched with images of horse heads. Almost like branding-iron icons, roughly carved with a knife, then stained. Flaming kerosene lanterns populate the great room, casting a warm light. The room is lived-in, but empty.

I know that this is a horse ranch somewhere out west, and I know that the time period is around the turn of the last century, perhaps as late as the 1920s. I am able to verify this by two souvenirs from my parents’ house that are perched on top of a bookcase. The souvenirs look almost like detergent bottles, made of clear glass or plastic, and are printed with lists of names of people famous near the first World War: Bertrand Russell, Gertrude Stein, T. S. Eliot, Georgia O’Keeffe. The bottles are filled with deeply colored liquid, purple and blue. Elixir.

I have had enough of these dreams now that I know for certain, while still dreaming, that this is a past-life memory. Within the dream, I experience the emotion of satisfaction and peace around this growing awareness. When I awake, I feel blessed by the power of the dream.

Day notes:

The kids move into their house next week. Alea’s mother and I both made donations to help cover closing costs.

Interesting to me that Prince passes on a Scorpio full moon (culmination), and I have a powerful past-life dream the same day. I do breathwork in the Salt Caves in the evening and feel very connected to the sorrow of all. Minneapolis has lost artistic royalty, our dancing muse.

I have quite a few dreams of dolmens, an ancient funereal structure. Dream dolmens lead to magical spirits or to past-life memories. Liminal space. The dolmen that was Sabine’s house was the size of a mountain.

The prevalence of wood could be a reference to the Tree of Life or family tree.

West in the medicine wheel is autumn, black, the womb, the cave. Also home of the cleansing Thunder Beings.

Horse: driving force, vitality

Why Bertrand Russell? “The world is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.” He said.