Author: Denise

(Saturday, August 27, 2016) moon: waning crescent Cancer / tarot: seven of swords reversed

I am at my grandmother’s farm near Wabasha. The house is designed like an Italian palazzo, not a midwestern farmhouse. The floor plan is perfectly square: two stories with very high ceilings and a flat roof.

My sisters and I are asleep in the upper level. Our beds are situated in a corner of the large open room that has no interior walls. I awake, sit up in bed and notice the brilliantly shiny, golden wooden floor. It looks like the surface of a ballroom, a dance hall. There is a dark seam that runs through the middle of the room. The wood has begun to split at this seam (perpendicular to the grooved slats) and each side of the floor is gently angled, starting to fall away from the center. I get out of bed, kneel and press my hands firmly along one edge of the fault line, excited at the idea of the house breaking in half and toppling. But the floor and the entire structure are still very solid.

I head outside. My coworker Angela is present in her director role, here to protect. Guardian angel. Taller than I, boisterous and joyful.

It is morning, time for me to get dressed for the day and I do so out of doors, in front of many other souls who are doing the same. I have chosen an outfit I would not normally wear, a black-and-white-striped Italian or French style long-sleeved tunic with black sweats. Like the gear of a mime or beatnik or artist. In the dream I wonder about this choice. Am I in Italy? Amatrice?

Day notes:

People are living outdoors after the devastating quake in Italy. There was a 6.8 quake in Myanmar as well that killed 4 and damaged 200 temples.

Angela S. has appeared in my dreams before. Her title at work is Channel Marketing Director. She does have an extroverted, happy disposition. I think the dream character, though, is one of my spirit guides. I am quite sure I heard her beautiful voice a year ago during the last meditation we had at Peace Valley, Arkansas.

Why am I so happy about the the fault line? The family split? The eventual outcome has presented itself but is many years, perhaps centuries, away. My parents’ 60th wedding anniversary is in October.

Yesterday was the second anniversary of Kay’s passing. It was a frightening day. Chris’ skin looked grey and his breathing was extremely labored, shallow. He took a short, loud, small breath every two or three seconds. He slept till 9:30 in the morning and went to bed at 7. I wanted him to go to the doctor but he said he was fine. I thought he seemed better today but he says he has aching in his back, and he is still having trouble breathing. I suspect his heart, that his atrial fibrillation is acting up.

(Thursday, August 25, 2016) moon: third quarter Gemini / tarot: four of wands

I awake from what feels like a pretty mundane dream. I am in a large communal space, maybe a hotel. It seems to be just one level, ground level, covering a very wide swath of land. Many acres.

I am Chris’ caregiver. I want to refresh, to take a shower. But each shower room I enter in the complex is unavailable in some way. Under repair or remodel or rented by another guest.

So I go back to see Chris in his suite. His mental condition is severely deteriorated, as it was in the years following his craniotomy. Traumatic Brain Injury. To me that always felt as though his mind had completely lost anchor. Like his thoughts were constantly being erased by huge electrical waves, storms of emotional upheaval.

Day notes:

I get up at 5 to feed kitty. I am ready to head into the bathroom but Chris beats me to it. I have to wait to take my daily shower. I recognize immediately the precognitive element of my morning dream.

Later in the day the second half of the dream appears. My boss Louis comes over to my desk and I can tell he is having one of his blood sugar episodes. He is very aggressive and irrational. I have to keep asking him firm and direct questions because I don’t understand his train of thought. He is asking me to perform tasks that the web team have been doing for years, not me, and he is completely surprised to hear my explanation of who does what. He challenges me over and over. I don’t back down. He scribbles a bunch of notes on a sheet of paper outlining what he expects me to do but then begins to walk away with those notes. In frustration, I ask him to make a copy for me, and that angers him.

(Saturday, August 20, 2016) moon: waning gibbous Aries / tarot: two of pentacles

I fell back asleep after this dream, which was incredibly vibrant, but has faded because of my sleep pattern:

Chris and I are at home. Others may be with us. Our brother-in-law (married to Chris’ sister), a wild and violent man, tells us he will assassinate Chris. Following the dark threat, he stalks out of our house, into the night.

I feel terrible shock and fear. I have no doubt the man is a murderer. Even so, I look about the comforting interior of our house. It is a beautiful and eccentric environment, full of unusual color combinations and well-loved art. It’s a bit like our living house, but more so. To the next level. Like a painting by the surrealist Leonora Carrington.

It is time for me to go to work, so I travel the rather long distance to the office. I settle in, and the murderous brother-in-law reappears, amplifying his threat against Chris.

I know it is urgent that I buy a gun. It is urgent that I get home as quickly as possible, before my brother-in-law harms Christopher. A few of my coworkers want to help, and we leave the office together.

I make a quick purchase of a very deadly handgun. Large, heavy, powerful. We all jump into my car and speed onto the highway together. The clock is ticking, every second is critical.

The murderer is following us. We decide to pull off the road, to try to trick him into a situation that we control. We run over hilly, green terrain, into a thick woods. As he searches for us, I point my handgun at his chest, but either I miss or the gun doesn’t go off. I realize I have never shot a gun in my life and cannot expect to aim with any success. In a stand-off, I will be the one killed, not my opponent.

We decide to flee the forest, to rush back to the house. Once home, I run from lovely room to lovely room, calling Chris’ name. No answer. Finally, I stumble into a bedroom and find him dead on the floor, a bullet through his heart.

Instantly, I perceive a second, overlapping layer of the dream. No bullet has pierced his heart. Chris rises up from the floor to greet me, as if waking from a nap. Is he a ghost? Or a sentient being?

Day notes:

The tarot card was accurate: two of pentacles is about balance. I fell out in Chaska today and now can barely walk on my right foot.

I know there is an episode in this dream where I notify the police and ask for protection, probably on my way to the office. I don’t remember their response. It seems they do not help. But I can’t be sure. 

Members of my not-so-close family are angry and destructive. It’s Chris’ birthday next week and I have been wondering if his sister will bother to mail a card.

Another dream with contrary content: the house is inspiring and evolved, the distant relations are dangerous and full of hate. 

What to do when I retire? I have thought about selling the Wayzata house (too big!) and buying a tiny one or two bedroom house in the city, plus a small adobe in New Mexico. But these dreams of my present house seem to be telling me it is important to stay where I am. There is more here than I realize on a conscious level.