(Tuesday, January 17, 2017) moon waning gibbous Libra / tarot Devil reversed
Many vivid dreams that flow into each other:
Dream 1:
My house is a blue, square French-style two-story, built before the twentieth century and set on a large, flat treeless lot. The neighborhood is gentile and elegant: it could be New Orleans or even Summit Avenue in St. Paul. The house has arisen from the matrix in my Akina dream (Akina actually arrived from China this week). I walk up the stairs to the upper floor. The staircase is enclosed by wooden walls, positioned in the center of the unfurnished top story. All of the outer walls are covered by carved square wooden panels. One side of the room’s panels are magenta and gold leaf, the other side of the room’s panels are a dark powdery blue and turquoise with gold leaf. I really love this room.
Dream 2:
I’m a passenger in a large plane. I decide to use the bathroom before we land, just in case it takes awhile to exit the plane and make it into the airport terminal. But I have no sense of urgency.
The restroom area is as huge as a hotel lobby. The bathroom stalls are enclosed rooms, like old-fashioned outhouses or European water closets. The lobby is so busy that I have a hard time figuring out which stalls are available. Doors open and shut, open and shut, people rush in and rush out. Finally I find an unused room. It has two seats, two round openings carved out of the top of a wooden box, outhouse style. The chambers beneath the seats are filled to the top with layers and layers of clothing, floating in human urine. I search through all of the other stalls, only to find the same strange circumstance. Shocked and perplexed, I return to my seat in the passenger area.
Suddenly the plane nosedives. It heads toward the earth at a terrifying speed, as if the engines are still full-on. It’s not a free-fall. I realize that this means death, so I begin to pray and clear my mind. Readying for the end. I feel sorrow for the children onboard.
In the nick of time the pilots lift the nose of the plane and make an emergency landing in a field near a city far from our original destination.
Dream 3:
I am walking in the city where the plane has landed. The city has a French heritage; most of the residents are tall, thin and brown. Am I somewhere in Africa? Algeria?
A bus approaches, filled with rescued passengers and luggage. I step inside to retrieve my little blue suitcase, then continue on my walk.
I begin to feel very vulnerable strolling out in the open with my suitcase on wheels: an old, white woman tourist. I take a few items of clothing from the suitcase, tuck them into a small fabric bag, then discard my luggage.
I keep walking. It is a beautiful, sunny, exotic city. The residents are elegantly dressed and move with tremendous grace. The pace and energy of the land is slow and relaxed.
Eventually I realize I need to find a restroom. I duck into a fancy public bathroom decorated with curly wrought iron, tile floors and adobe walls. The decor feels Moroccan. I sit myself onto a colorful ceramic toilet seat. A shadowy man tries to get into the room through the main wooden door; fortunately I remembered to lock it behind me. He then finds a way in through a hidden passage in the alley at my left, like a ghost filtering through a wall. I am able to enter his soul and sift through every aspect of his being. I find the dark, heavy, malevolent threads of his psyche. A sexual predator, he is equally charming and charismatic. A manipulative magician. A genie out of the bottle.
Dream 4:
This scene merges with a dream of the man who attacked Alea in her house. In my dream, he is tall with curly blond hair. He sexually assaults her in her own bathroom.
Dream 5:
I am in a house like the one in my first dream but this time Joanne Blaylock is helping me peel off sheets of white wallpaper so I can paint the walls dark powdery blue. A gallon of paint rests at my feet. I am excited.
There is a framed piece of white art on the wall. I pull a small rectangle of cotton from the surface.
I worked with Joanne many years ago; she passed from lung cancer before the age of 50.
Day notes:
Yesterday a cargo plane crashed in Kyrgyzstan, destroying an entire village.
Bonnie just published a long series of dreams. I have not had a chance to read them all, but one of the themes is bathrooms. Physical relief. The whole idea of urine is in the news because of Trump’s Golden Shower story.
Cullan said Alea sent him an email today thanking him for all of the good things in their relationship. She said he taught her a lot. She seems to be recovering from their breakup, and also from the attack by the man she met on the online dating “service.”
Today I read a great article by Dr. Mercola about what happens to clothing donated to Goodwill and similar charities. Most donated items end up in landfills, ground up and turned into carpeting, or shipped overseas (which affects local textile industries). Clothing sales in America are up 500% since 1980. Human waste.
Chris had a canine tooth removed yesterday and I have helped him peel open small rectangles of cotton to absorb the bleeding, the same size as the dream cotton.
Themes: French, blue, squares, wooden walls and doors, flight, urine, discarding clothing and baggage. The colors from my Spain dream are repeated in this dream: gold, turquoise, blue.