(Tuesday, November 22, 2022) new moon Scorpio / tarot three of cups
The dream begins inside the house that Chris and I own, but the first memory is of me standing outside, facing the front door. I am making adjustments to a grey and black plastic box that fans air outside its base. I open the hinged top of the box and place a directions card inside a clear, plastic, fitted rectangle. The card deck is thick; the card I choose looks like the High Priestess. I fiddle with some knobs next to the card so the air quiets down. It radiates more gently, and I am satisfied. I grab the electric box and bring it inside.
Our front door is plain wood, mid-century modern, and so is the inside of our house. The floor is wood, the rooms are wide and open, the furniture is classic modern. All is simple and relaxing.
I show Chris the tool I am carrying in my arms. There are no closets on the main floor so I will need to store the box in the basement. I look about the first level of the house to see if there is a space where we could add a closet or a large wardrobe cabinet. I notice the upper floor, a small bedroom loft with a wooden ladder. There is a low, overhanging ceiling next to the ladder that might be a good spot to build a closet.
I gaze some more at my pleasant house. The furniture and the architectural design please me perfectly. Chris feels the same. I grab three handmade rugs and walk to the front door to lay one down. Two of them need to be thrown in the wash, but Chris and I agree on the third clean, colorful rug.
Now I walk down to the basement. The stairs are in the middle, and I turn left. This section of the underground is brightly lit. A man in his twenties stands next to a boy near the age of ten years. They are playing together. There are many toys and tools strewn along the basement floor.
What astonishes me is the amazingly tall brick structure. It seems at least thirty feet high, maybe more. The walls are obviously ancient, as there are multiple arched windows, sealed with bricks, stacked from the bottom to the top. The brick walls are not just vertical, either, as there are erratic sculptural layers along the edges. Mounds. The bricks are all newly covered with beautiful purple and ultramarine semigloss paint.
I turn to my right and walk to the unlit, private part of the underground. I pay attention to the cathedral-style sealed windows and the inspiring purple-blue stonework. This space is open to me, available for my needs.
Day notes:
This dream ended as sleep paralysis. Paralysis felt like it lasted an hour. It made me focus on my breathing. I was afraid to have a blanket over my mouth. Sleep paralysis confirmed the lucidity of the dream, though. The sensual, visual details were profound. I was able to revisit the basement during paralysis. I had a nice email exchange with Ryan Hurd this week, who has written books about sleep paralysis.
The space where the man and young boy played reminded me of Cullan’s hobby when he was in his twenties. He and his friends would explore deep beneath the old urban buildings in Minneapolis and Saint Paul. He took spectacular photos. They celebrated a birthday in a huge cave that they filled with candles from bottom to top.
Our Edwardian-era house has only one closet on the main floor. The design is very open and sunny. Many of the windows have been sealed with paint. The upper floor is a half-story, which I guess you could call a loft. The basement walls are limestone and brick. The furniture left over from our Wayzata house is mid-century modern.
The box reminds me of my electric mower or my electric snowblower. It’s the same shape and size.
Another one of your great house dreams! I loved that the dream ego was first outside and then inside on all three levels. The box that was blowing air out too forcefully is interesting. The High Priestess’ wisdom did the trick. Like breathing- our breath connects our inner and out selves. When it is slow and deep, we can get in touch with our inner selves.
I like the colorful rug at the front entry. You have bought a couple of handmade rugs when we have gone to the art leap. It feels like a welcoming symbol. (Like Rumi’s poem!)
Looking for a place to put the box and ending up in the basement because there are no current closets sounds like that is where it needs to be. I wonder about the bricked in windows and the tall, irregular, walls with the vivid colors. Feels so different from the fist and second floors. Is this a different part of myself that helps me get my needs met? The young man and boy playing feels like such a happy scene.