Author: Denise

(Sunday, September 13, 2020) waning crescent moon Leo / tarot six of cups

My boss, creative director Louis, is ridiculing me and slowly working toward getting me removed. Fired. I resist by leaving our workspace, heading outside and crawling onto the rooftop. I lie along the very peak of the roof, wrapped in a pure, white linen gown that covers my feet, hands and face. The boss heads outside too, peering up at the roof, but my white fabric garment keeps me hidden from him.

Irritated, exacerbated, the boss starts to stroll aggressively down the city sidewalk. He is talking out loud about all of the reasons he wants me gone. I roll down the roof and begin to walk on the opposite side of the street, keeping my distance.

In this dream I am most conscious of being the Observer Me. Observer Me warns my escaping, highly feminine self to be much more careful, to turn onto a side street and head inside the safety of the old Holy Angel convent on 66th and Nicollet.

Day notes:

My work computer crashed on Friday. And our Chief Marketing Officer seemed to warn us on Thursday that layoffs could be coming.

Last week our beautiful white linen drapes arrived from West Elm. My bedroom does feel like I sleep on the top peak of the house.

The fires are out of control on the west coast.

(Labor Day 2020) waning gibbous moon Taurus, tarot Lovers

I am viewing Mother Earth from outer space. She is on fire. Red-orange flames. Something about France floats in my brain, maybe the Paris Accord. This is an overwhelming experience. Terrifying.

Day notes:

When I wake up, the first news story I see is about the 121 degree temperature in Los Angeles. Wildfires. The climate is burning. Our democracy is burning.

(Saturday, August 15, 2020)

Since childhood I have had dreams where I am covered by the heavy blankets on my bed. I can’t breathe. I struggle to flip the comforter away from my mouth and nose. It feels like it takes hours to become safe. To breathe again. It is something like sleep paralysis, but not quite. I had the same experience early this morning. When the dream blankets are finally off of my mouth, I have to concentrate on inhaling deeply for several minutes.

As a child it often was a real experience. Sometimes it was a dream. When awake, I would lie in bed wondering if someone had pulled the covers over my face. Or was I so cold I overcompensated with my blankets?

Maybe these are health dreams about my “reactive lung” diagnosis. Maybe this dream is about the stress of COVID-19. My aunt Lois just died last week of pneumonia, at the age of 90.