Author: Denise

(Friday, November 12, 2021) waxing gibbous moon Pisces, tarot High Priestess

Hundreds of humans live in a small city nestled in a wooded, hilly, natural environment. We are visitors to a foreign planet. The beautiful town is a colony. A few dozen of us are now ready to travel back in space, back to our home planet, but we have to take a long journey through the mountains.

A strong, middle-aged woman is the captain, the leader of our trip back to the space station and beyond. We are confident in her ability. We start to amble along the city streets together. I point out my lovely, two-story home with a veranda that freely opens to the lighted interior of the house. The clear openness has inspired me. I hope others feel cheered by it, too.

I want to bring my vehicle along with me in the large spaceship, but cannot. In my hand I hold a steel ignition key with a patterned hexagon top. I have affection for the classic, charming car. I will miss it. There are many aspects of the colony we will all miss and we take our time to visit people and places to say good bye and then, to discuss the process of being in space together.

We need to travel to a planet that is fairly close to this colonized planet, and from there we will fly to the earth. As we make it past the border of the friendly, populated town, we enter a very tall mountain range, the height of the Himalayas. Our captain instructs us. We must slide our bodies down the spectacularly steep, barren snow ridges, thousands and thousands of feet to a valley below. That is how the dreams ends for me. I am shocked by the dramatic angle of my pathway, but I obey. I slide forward at tremendous speed. Not everyone is able to race as directly and easily as I do.

(Monday, October 8, 2021 / waxing crescent moon Capricorn / five of pentacles tarot)

A long, elaborate dream. It seems to be the working details of the retreat center dream. A group of us are deeply involved with our personal retreat tasks. Our goals. We are all indoors, inside classrooms with large drawing table-style desks.

I really only remember the story at the end of this dream. I share a dual drawing table with a male dream-worker or friend. Our table is at the front row of the classroom. He is struggling with his ability to draw on a large white sketchpad. His strong irritation causes me to move away from the desk, to take a quiet, personal break. I want to allow him to concentrate.

The woman who is teaching the class walks over to tell me that my creativity is off the charts. I am completely skeptical but she shows me the data. My creative ability is at least twice as high as 100%, which must be statistically impossible. I can’t even see my exact numbers because the top of the chart seems soaring into infinity. That life-changing chart soothes me and gives me tremendous peace of mind.

Tuesday, October 19, 2021 (granddaughter Oona Jane’s birthday)

I’ve joined a conference with a large group of younger people: Gen Y, Gen Z and Millennials. We are at a large retreat center with multiple buildings, in the wild, very much like Hollyhock in British Columbia.

The group moves on without me, the old woman. They have their own agenda, which does not surprise me. I decide to walk up a small, L-shaped wooden staircase in a private two-story cabin.

As I open the left-facing door at the top of the stairs, I am surprised to see John Lennon, sitting in a simple wooden chair, holding and gently kissing another man in a chair directly in front of him. Paul McCartney? I leave Lennon to his privacy, although he acknowledges my presence.

I reconnect with the young retreaters. They have decided to meet John Lennon. I tag along behind them and am the last person to enter John’s cabin upper floor. His partner is gone. As before, the retreat members don’t pay much attention to me, but John laser-focuses on my character and mission. The youngsters respectfully move away from me to observe Lennon’s teaching.

He tells them that I am able to move between the dimensions of life and death, the soul transition space. That is my next task, my new lifework. I leap into the black, empty Cosmos and fly far, far away.

Day notes:

Lennon in Irish is Leannán (lover) and Lonáin (blackbird).

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free
Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of a dark black night
Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of a dark black night
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

My middle name is Lenore, so ravens (black birds) are one of my spirit animals.

This is the third dream I have had this summer/fall about famous creatives. One dream was about Bob Dylan, another dream did not reveal who the famous person was. Secret.

The week that John Lennon was killed, I had a lucid dream. He asked me to send a letter to Yoko Ono, to let her know he was OK.

Prescient elements, November 11: I visit the children’s bookstore “Wild Rumpus” to do some Christmas shopping. Behind the desk is a huge print of a crowned white Queen Cat, and that catches my attention, since the feral white calico slept on my blue velvet couch for an hour on this day. But the other odd thing was a thick box, at least four inches deep, that held two books of Paul McCartney’s song lyrics. Why was that at a children’s bookstore? It reminded me of my black bird dream. In addition, “60 Minutes” is showing films tonight of the Beatles that have never been shared on TV before.