Fragment: Dream Prize

(Saturday, October 1, 2016) new moon Libra / tarot six of wands

I enter a room where two of my coworkers (Katie and Alysia?) are working very hard, with many long hours yet to go. I climb into a white feathery bed at the edge of the room. Cloud-like and heavenly! I need to nap and dream for just an hour, and then my work is complete. When I awake from my dreaming, I am awarded the prize I have been hoping for.

Day notes:

I check my emails today as soon as I get out of bed. Sylvia from the IASD tells me I have been chosen to be an art volunteer at the 2017 conference. Dream prize!

Dreams have been even more precognitive than usual. I had a dream on September 15 called “No Password, No Passport.” In it, I struggle to get a password for my (Apple) iPhone, which is stolen twice and in the end replaced by an older, “un-smart” phone. Later in the dream Bonnie and I take a river journey to the Netherlands where I discover my passport is missing. In real life, my (Apple) Macbook died shortly after the dream and I was given two replacements, each of which required me to dig around to find the passwords to access the drives. Later, our tech team gave me a workaround for my own Macbook which involved attaching a device called “My Passport.” It is the shape and size of a passport.

No Password, No Passport

(Wednesday, September 14, 2016) moon waxing gibbous Aquarius / tarot Sybil (ace of swords)

Chris and I have arrived at a large conference in the Netherlands. We are moving through the ballroom, mixing with the crowd at the opening reception. As I walk, I am trying to connect my phone to the wireless network, with no success. Frustrated, I go back to the registration desk for help. The registration volunteer tells me the password is “getthesalt” (get the salt).

But even though I now have the correct password, I cannot get my phone to work. It keeps cycling through my apps and will not stop at the settings app. Sometimes Siri kicks in, shouting at me in a ghostly male voice so loudly aggressive I hide my phone to keep others from being disturbed. I give up trying to connect, temporarily, and put my phone in the back pocket of my hiking trousers.

Chris and I walk outside to join hundreds of conventioneers at a yoga practice. Before we reach the exercise field, I pull the phone from my pocket and try it again. It’s not my phone. Someone has stolen my iPhone and replaced it with a tiny, old “un-smart” phone.

We stand in the field in formation together. Lou H. of the IASD is in the line behind us. He is an expert at yoga but his ankle is injured. He is deferential to my skill: he calls me a master. I feel much less than that.

In the dream I am never able to see Chris’ face, and he never speaks. He has the presence of a doll or a mythical character. Not a living, breathing human being. He has two arms and two healthy legs: no physical impairments as in waking life.

The dream shifts. Bonnie and I are entering a simple wooden boat with a broad hull. We are on a river cruise with several dozen people and will be staying onboard at least one night. We know that our cabin is at the rear of the boat, the stern. But at the moment there are only spare wooden benches for us to sit on. There are no cabins. I don’t even see an engine. I wonder if this boat will be replaced by another, or if the cabins will manifest at the appointed time. It feels like a magical ship, motored and steered by the consciousness of the passengers.

We head down the wide river. It is full of people from all over the world, of every race and nationality. Mostly young, beautiful women. They are standing in the shallow water, splashing and bathing, speaking all languages. We near a fork in the flow and stay to the right. We travel to a small toll station at the edge of the river. An older Dutch workman is there to collect our Euros and review our passports.

I have no passport! How have I made it out of Schipohl Airport to the conference and the cruise? The toll agent is willing to let me pass. I fill his open palm with shiny silver Euros. He is not looking for an under-the-table fee: I just don’t know how to count Euros. I am very worried I will not make it past the next tollbooth. I consider leaving the boat so as not to hinder the timing for the rest of the travelers, and maybe find a way to the left fork of the river. Yet I have made it this far with no password and no passport …

Day notes:

Salt in alchemy is the earth. Get the salt (gestalt?) = get grounded. Which is a bit ironic: connect to “the cloud” without a grounding wire. A complicated idea!

I have been on Skype calls every morning this week with Kleopatra in our Amsterdam office. She is from Greece, and is a strikingly beautiful young woman who speaks Greek, French, Dutch and English.

I think the lack of password and passport are reflections of the fact that I have made it this far in the world without any paperwork, without a degree. It certainly affects my level of self confidence. Un-smart.

Nether: lying or believed to lie beneath the earth’s surface; infernal: the nether regions. The River Styx?

September 15: My Mac started acting up today. First came the “out of memory” message followed by more issues. The IT guys are trying to fix it tonight.

September 16: My Macbook is still in the shop. My boss Louis (Lou?) found an old, slow Macbook for me to use temporarily. It took three people to get the password to work. Even once I got in, it was pretty worthless because the software was outdated.

 

Fragments: Soul Train

(Saturday, September 10, 2016) moon first quarter Capricorn / tarot Spider Woman (Wheel of Fortune) reversed

Fragment 1: Chris and I are moving out of a mobile home. We need Cullan’s help, but he is finishing up his own project and has yet to arrive. I am packing clothes and bedclothes. Our cotton duvet cover looks very much like the one I bought at West Elm this spring. I undo safety pins that secure the “hospital corners” (something my grandmother taught me about bed-making as a child). I roll the duvet cover and our clothing around a large wooden pole.

Fragment 2: I am with Cyndi at her oversized RV. It is at least 20 feet tall and 80 feet long. The interior is empty. She has neglected to tell me that King Kong is on his way for one of his periodic visits. I find out and I am terrified. There is no place to hide, nothing to grab onto that would assist climbing a wall to get away from the giant gorilla. Cyndi sits on a chair outside the RV, playing with her iPad. Unconcerned.

Day notes:

There is a theme of homes on wheels, the soul train. Leaving. Chris was playing John Prine’s Pandora channel this morning and together we sang Arlo Guthrie’s version of “I’m the train they call the City of New Orleans.”

I listened to a webinar today by Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche called “Living with Joy, Dying in Peace.” Part 1 of a six-month presentation. He talked several times about his teacher in France who is “packed and ready to go.” He used the word “packed” over and over to describe being ready to die. He finished the talk with a very powerful meditation that brought back the memory of my birth-stroke, opening up sensations of the lifelong struggle with the damaged left side of my body. It made me consider how to let go and accept the power of my left hemisphere and the weakness of my right. When I work in clay I use both hands, but primarily my left. When I draw or paint I use my right hand. I thought of Pat and wondered what he has been experiencing.

Gorilla in the room. Death. Hospital corners. Safety unpinned. The clothing rolled around the wooden pole reminds me of the solar shade that saved Chris from being cut when he broke the window during his fall on Tuesday.

Chris was runover by a train when he was 19. His first NDE.

The Dreamsters Union