Author: Denise

(Tuesday, March 21, 2023) new moon Aries / tarot 10 of cups

I never have nightmares, but here is one. It was so vivid it felt like waking life. My spring equinox dream.

Raven:

I am standing in the basement of my childhood home, in front of the thick wooden door connected to the underground garage. The door is open, and the two outer garage doors are also open. It is 1965. I am 8 years old. The F5 tornadoes are coming.

A raven the size of an eagle has flown in to warn me. It feels like an attack. He flies with his head upright and his tail underneath, elevated like a human superhero. His wings are wide open, flapping wildly. He tries to pick at me with his talons and sharp beak. I pull away at every lunge, remaining unharmed. Eventually, I am able to coax him to return to the storm, and I shut the safety door.

Hurricane:

I belong to a small community in a well-constructed, well-designed building. We meet together in the basement. Two of the four walls are floor-to-ceiling windows, made of thick, resilient glass.

I look outside and notice dark grey clouds flying at a dangerous speed. A hurricane is coming.

Two children, Wyn and Oona, clammer to have me open a door. They are two or three years older than waking life, and excited to explore the yard. I let them stand outside for a few seconds, then I bring them back in.

I warn our community about the hurricane. I stress that we all need to move away from the glass, to the safe interior of the structure, but most people are more interested in watching the storm. They stay close to the windows, in spite of my attempt to protect them. Suddenly I see the grey clouds turn pitch black, and I scurry into a closed, wooden room with my grandchildren. I am absolutely terrified of the black hurricane. It is roaring like a train.

I hear some of the glass shatter. A few members call out that they have been hit. Luckily the glass is so strong that only tiny star-shaped pieces pop out, injuring no one.

Day notes:

Saturday night Cullan and Hillary and two of their neighbors heard gun shots along West 48th. Casings were on the street and sidewalk. Nothing hit the houses. The police were not able to catch the shooters. The neighbors are all going to update outside cameras.

Wyn and Oona have strep for the second time this year, and their daycare closed again because of covid.

March 23: At least 26 people have died from a massive tornado in Mississippi. Pluto entered Aquarius (air) on this date.

Poem (from Victoria’s workshop):

I can become empty or protective. I embrace deep soil and hard stones.

I am designed for safety, although sometimes my natural source can crack.

I am a roaring green swirl, connected to earth and sky. Death will come.

I am wise and in love with my grandmother’s old name. As her new self, she visits me in my dreams.

I am alone, the odd one, the wild one. My crystal blue eyes are open. Too open?

I am the youthful trauma that leads to independence.

(Sunday, March 19, 2023) waning crescent moon in Pisces / tarot 9 of swords

I’m moving through a square building that has been mortared. Bombs destroyed it. The original structure had an open central courtyard. The architecture reminds me of the building at Rolduc Abbey in Kerkrade, The Netherlands, where the IASD conference was held in 2011.

I happen to see a large mural of a battle scene at one edge of the courtyard. My fellow laid-off coworker John D. is in the middle of the photo and he is actually standing near me, so I ask him about it. Our conversation confirms that the destruction was an attack, not a natural disaster (like an earthquake). This must be my former workplace.

I move on and pay attention to the rubble, the sorrow. As I pass through the courtyard and enter one of the four hallways, I notice that my former coworker Mary is following close behind. She is chatting obsessively to me, but I ignore her. I never even turn around to acknowledge her presence. I was able to get her hired last year and now she has been given functions of my old job of eighteen years.

I am focused on finding the door that leads to the outdoor sculpture garden, such as Rolduc had at the convention.

Day notes:

Rolduc Abbey may have entered my dream because I recently listened to a Scott Sparrow interview. In 2011, I remember learning that the abbey had been attacked by Napoleon‘s army, killing many residents. This dream also reminds me of Ukraine.

Yesterday there was a major news story connecting raccoon dogs in China to the origin of the covid-19 virus. One of my pandemic dreams (Dire Wolves Return) was about canines spreading the pandemic. For years the global hypothesis was that bats had infected humans, but I always wondered if we would find out a different story.

A second prescient element in that dream was the promise from the wolves that my family would not be harmed by the virus. Three years later, Chris and I, Cullan and Hillary, Wyn and Oona have always tested negative for covid.

I had an earlier dream about attacking wolves (Prehistoric Backyard With A Dire Wolf Pack And One Elephant). I didn’t know about covid then, but I did one month later.