New Earth Moon

(Saturday, May 7, 2016) new moon Taurus / tarot: two of wands, reversed

Yesterday afternoon the new moon was exact in Taurus. There was a trine in the earth signs, and astrologers have been saying that dreams would be particularly abundant. I went on the St. Croix Pottery Tour with my mother (in celebration of Mother’s Day), which I thought was a good way to spend a day marked by earth energy.

I pulled the High Priestess card in my Friday morning tarot, and so expected meaningful dreams. “The thinning of the veil.” I wasn’t disappointed. I awoke two or three times early Saturday morning and had maybe a dozen vivid dreams. In one dream my friend Sem from the Netherlands is in love with me. In another powerful, lucid dream:

The oval-shaped body of water that often appears in my dreams is blue and choppy. I stand on the shoreline as it begins to rapidly expand. The intent of the water is to grow from a pond into an ocean, to flood thousands, millions of acres of land in an instant. I perceive the intent of the water, and for a moment I am overcome by violent, tremendous fear. But the part of me that is connected to the intelligence of the water is also able to muster enough emotional strength to stop the expansion, and then contract the water back into its original peaceful formation.

More and more, my dreams have aspects of lucidity. I am beginning to wonder if all dreams are lucid. Perhaps it is our dimness of memory upon awakening that makes us lose our sense of awareness/lucidity.

I also dream that I am trying to do “soul breathing” with Terri. We are breathing in a room near my father and mother, and I know that they will be shocked by that spiritual practice, so I ask Terri to move to a different space with me. We move several times.

After spending much of the day with my mother on the pottery tour, and then a few minutes with my father, I had a renewed sense of the chasm that exists between us. Their world is very ego-bound. Which is not a judgement, but I think that their continued drinking is affecting their personalities in a way that is noticeable even when they are sober. One afternoon last fall, my father was walking out to the mailbox and witnessed a terrible car crash on the road in front of their house. He ran to the cars involved, and my mother called 911. A young man whose blood alcohol level was above the legal limit had hit a car carrying a young mother and her three small children. The two boys were injured but able to exit the car when my dad opened the door for them. They were screaming at my dad to help their mother. Their three-year-old sister was unconscious and bleeding from the mouth. She was air-lifted by helicopter to Children’s, and is still paralyzed from the waist down. The children’s mother had to be cut from the car with the jaws of life. She has had multiple surgeries on her legs.

When my dad was five years old, he sat in the front seat of a truck with my grandfather on their farm in Brewster, Minnesota. My three aunts, Lois, Mary and Carol, were in the bed of the pickup. It was Carol’s sixth birthday. Carol fell off the back of the truck and was run over by my grandfather. My dad said that the accident by the mailbox brought back the horror of Carol’s death as if it happened only yesterday: the memory of his father carrying Carol’s lifeless body back to the house, to my heart-broken grandmother.

The Creator works in mysterious ways and I cannot presume to understand the connections between these events. “If it were my dream,” I would take that car crash as a message to halt my own drinking. But more likely, it has been a justification to continue drinking, to drown those memories of Carol and the tiny girl with a river of blood flowing from her mouth.