Author: Denise

(Saturday, February 18, 2017)

Long, complex vision of the dream conference:

I arrive in the registration lobby. Under my right arm I carry the doll-sculpture I call Edie. She is created not by me but by the great ceramicist Akio Takamori (who passed away unexpectedly last month). Rather than the rough, textured surface of my actual piece, the dream doll has the smooth, graceful, raw surface famous to Takamori. Beautiful!

From registration I move to the gallery, where I have volunteered. I am not well-received. I don’t fit in. I don’t exhibit the standard, middle-class academic sensibility that is desired here. But there is a set of mounting tools needed by the gallery that I am able to fire, to temper, so that they are strengthened and made more useful.

I move through other rooms in the conference, rooms full of people. Out of the corner of my right eye a transparent tarot reading appears, floating in the air above the heads of the dreamers. It is hard to decipher the cards because they are not fully manifest. They arrive from the spirit realm. I think The Fool is at the top of the spread but I can’t be sure. All cards seem to be from the major arcana.

It is time for the dream hike. I head out with the group but am diverted. Off the beaten path go I, walking alone up a dirt road to the top of a hill where I lie down, nestling in the soft warm sand. I love the smell of the moist earth. A black crow flies low, fluttering his wings over my body and laughing loudly, crow-style. We are kindred spirits.

I rejoin the hikers. They have reached a large, rectangular reservoir. Richard W. and another man push through a wire gate and dive into the pool of water. This makes me happy. I appreciate their playfulness and sense of physical freedom. Bravo!

Day notes:

Crow is shape-shifter, trickster. Protector of the Akashic/Ogallah. “All things are born of women” is signified by Crow. Crow lives in the void with no sense of time. Crow sees past, present and future.  Crow’s eye is the gateway to the supernatural. Walk your talk and speak your truth.

(Saturday, February 18, 2017) moon third quarter Sagittarius/ tarot Temperance

Again I am present in my grandmother’s house, in its square, two story dream format.  The house sits in a wide-open, empty field at grey dusk. “I” stand in the upper level. “I” am a spirit being of elevated height. My feet rest peacefully on the wooden floor but my head and torso reach out of the roof, into the eternal sky. Infinite tranquility.

(Monday, February 13, 2017) moon waning gibbous Libra / tarot ace of wands

As usual I left the breath session on Saturday with a mix of skepticism and deep healing. This morning I had a dream even Robert W. of the IASD would treasure.

“I” am in a very high place, floating in a heavenly, pale blue sky with wispy white clouds, in such an immense, open atmosphere it could be categorized as a Tibetan clear light dream. A translucent rainbow glows far below, to my left.

I do not know if “I” have a body. Perhaps not. I have access to the awareness of this elevated being. But I have NO sense of the ego and identity of being Denise. I don’t even have that ordinary dream sensation of The Observer Me. I AM this fantastic, illuminated spirit.

This inter-dimensional being is guiding two humans, far below on the earth plane. I separate from the elevated Spirit, into The Observer Me, and float through the sky down to the earth.

The light and landscape on the earth are extraordinarily beautiful. Beyond description, beyond compare. Heaven on earth.

The two guided souls are Cullan and Denise, and the timeframe is about twenty-five years ago. They each have a book that they are following, but they have the freedom to deviate from their plan, their Akashic contract, as they see fit.

Cullan and Denise live at the edge of the sea, near the delta of a small, pure river. The coast is protected by miles and miles of barrier islands. The waters are tropical and warm. The beach sand is pale and soft.

Young Cullan is standing in a second-story sunroom overlooking the ocean, in a house nestled next to the right bank of the inlet. His book directs him to leave his house and visit a playmate, but the river now runs where the friend’s house was supposed to manifest. He looks out through the huge windows to one of the shelter islands. His mother is repainting her little Caribbean-style cottage. Years ago it had been a bright, minty green. Now she is painting it a deeper, more avocado-toned color.