(Wednesday, February 5, 2025) first quarter moon Taurus
My first memory in quite some time of a long dream:
I am in a very large space full of floor-to-ceiling windows. It reminds me of the meeting room we used for the dream workshop taught by Victoria when she came to town a few years ago. There is an expansive white table and I stand at the edge, where Victoria stood to give her presentation. The edges are curved, shaped like my big, waking-life office table from Ikea.
I have helped organize this upcoming event. A couple dozen people will participate. My reputation is linked to a book I have written. Eventually we will all have a delicious and fancy meal together, but since my diet is limited (gluten-free and vegetarian) I eat a small veggie pizza ahead of the meeting.
Someone is with me. I have no visual memory of what they look like, who they are. Their presence feels very strong. A spirit? They are always on my right side, like my frequent male spirit guide, although this one is not as tall. We leave the meeting room and head to my own room. A hotel? An apartment? My home? The ceiling, walls and floors are white, like the table. I start switching on ceiling lights but at first they are all so dim they add no illumination. I click and click. Finally I find a switch that brings light and vision to my space.
The two of us leave for a walk to my mother’s house, my childhood home in Fridley. Perhaps I wish to coax my mother to join our meeting. We walk up the short, grassy hill and enter the side door. Inside is pure chaos. My mother is emotionally out of control. The house is full of lovely, expensive furniture yet none of it is organized in the appropriate rooms. Mess!
We decide to leave without my mother, but I first brush my hair in the bathroom and pull it into a ponytail.
Day notes:
I had a conversation with my sisters this week about how emotionally erratic my mother is right now.
The meeting reminds me of all the work ahead at the Mayo (traveling on Sunday to a “booked” hotel for a Monday meeting). Cullan is required to join me each time. The guide did often feel like it might be Cullan. Lots of Mayo members will be participating, like the group at the large white table. Sometimes behind the scenes. “My reputation” might be about the dozens and dozens of complex tests I have already contributed to the study. Telling my story. One of the neurologists said that an unusual number of his patients with semantic dementia have been writers or English teachers. One was a college professor. I think of Emerson again.
I have considered telling Victoria I am ending working with her Saturday/Sunday dream group. Too much stress in my life right now. I don’t have the energy. On the edge!
Sometimes I think “mother” in my recent dreams is Hillary. Or me.
A ponytail: brushing my hair, my mane, tightly around my crown chakra. My skull and brain. I take Lion’s Mane mushroom supplements for help with memory loss.
“Finally I find a switch that brings light and vision to my space.” A cure? Not expecting one.
It seems like at the beginning of the dream, the dream ego is organized, professional, etc. Then when she gets to her private space it takes effort to get the light bright enough. However, she does. She sees the light. I like the decision about leaving without the mother. That part of me or Hillary is not what I need now. I also like the brushing of the hair and putting it into a ponytail. It seems like I am getting my thoughts in order. And maybe there is something to do with “pony”- a horse/personal power.