Author: Denise

(Monday, August 15, 2015) moon: waxing gibbous Capricorn / tarot: three of cups

Night dream:

I’m in a hallway of a huge conference center filled with people. The campus is bigger than any real-life events structure. There are many levels that are not visible from where I walk.

I am able to perceive a distant conversation. Remote viewing. Cyndi, my coworker suffering from stage four breast cancer, is standing along the edge of a corridor with a group of people who are commiserating with her story. I am at my most powerful one-on-one but Cyndi is motivated by intimate social groups. I don’t even sense peer pressure. Cyndi is enlivened by it.

Cyndi tells her friends that she and her boyfriend have just broken up. I have influenced the ending of this relationship in some way, according to her tale. Yet her bitterness has no effect on me at all. It causes no fear or hesitation. I walk up to her and embrace her warmly, wrapping my left arm around her shoulder with honest, healing affection.

As we converse, a tall, thin man strides down the hall towards us. Cyndi’s ex-beau. He has silver hair and the air of a mountain man, a man from the West. A bit like Harrison Ford. He is distinguished, an elevated soul. He clarifies his relationship with Cyndi to the group: they only ever were friends, not lovers. He is kind, but firm.

This man and I walk together down many corridors, until we enter a quieter space. We are alone. Suddenly he falls to his knees and begins to weep. He caresses and kisses my hands, confessing his deep passion, his true love for me. I am shocked. Equally in love.

Waking dream:

Thursday afternoon as I left work, Cyndi was sitting outside the office door, soaking up the warm sun. I could see she was in tremendous physical pain. Her last radiology session was causing her nerves to burn all over her upper body. Friday morning she sent me an email apologizing for being “weepy” and I wrote: “Don’t be sorry. Be real. Pain is pain.”

She was unable to work on Friday and today. I had to step in and finish a large project she had underway with Kleopatra in Greece. There were problems with the files Cyndi had created so I was in a virtual conversation with the printer in Amsterdam named Marco. After we got everything sorted out Marco sent me a LinkIn request! That made me laugh and think of my dream. A proposal, albeit for business. From the east, not the west. Lowlands, not mountain highlands.

Day notes:

This dream has elements of contrariness like many of my recent dreams. Cyndi’s tale is opposite the truth, the expression of love from the beautiful mountain man is opposite my expectation. I awake with a physical sensation of opposites.

 

(Saturday, August 6, 2016)

I had a long dream following the Sheehan family reunion last Saturday. Even when I awoke, the dream was in fragments. I haven’t had time to record it till now, and have had no dreams since. Which seems to be a message from dreamland that I must write down what remains:

Chris tells me he will be leaving soon, and wishes to show me two places he once lived. One is a modern high-rise, but, paradoxically, his flat is several hundred years old, with a lovely brick fireplace in every room. The other flat is in an old stone warehouse. The building foundation has been recently painted glossy brick-red. Chris’ old ground-floor apartment is devoid of any walls or decor, like an abandoned storage warehouse. The concrete floors are chipped and worn. Used.

I begin to walk a long trail, on my way to a family reunion. I come up over a low rise of green grass and see the main building at Rolduc Abbey. My dream-family reunion. Three giant sea turtles are making their way, rapidly, to the front entrance doors. Their large flippers experience no resistance to the earth – they move as if they are in deep ocean waters. Swimming.

Day notes:

My waking-life family reunion was powerful. Cullan and Alea came, which made me very grateful. I have 25 or so Sheehan cousins, and when we get together, time dissolves. There was great affection in the room, colored by the loss of loved ones and the physical challenges of growing old. For several days following I felt the presence of our family members who have passed. They were peaceful and loving.

At the reunion, I could also sense the pain I had caused my own son when trying to raise him alone. I made so many terrible mistakes. I also realized that most of the joy I experienced as a child was with my cousins and my friends. Not with my angry, controlling, alcoholic family. For a couple of days after the reunion, I felt a strong wish to never incarnate on this earth again. Not from fear of what my own life might contain, but to ensure that I cause no more harm to any being.

Turtles are an ancient reptile, older than crocodiles, older than dinosaurs. The sand prairie near my grandmother’s farm is now managed by the Nature Conservancy and is home to a rare, protected creature called Blanding’s Turtle.

I had a deep, brief conversation with my cousin Tom (his is a family name that goes back several generations). Tom was an only child and his mother Marguerite was my godmother. She died on July 5, 1965 of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. He told me he has just retired after being a language professor at Superior for 30 years. I said I often consider retiring to the bluff country, because I have such connection to the sand prairie of our ancestors. The heat and sparseness of it, I think, is why I love New Mexico too. He said that he and his wife Gretchen have settled on a sand prairie in the north, and also think of moving back to Wabasha. I received a lovely email from him a few days after the reunion.

Terrapin symbolizes peace and is the oldest Native American symbol for Mother Earth. The Sheehan family crest is a white dove, also a symbol of peace.

Chris and I went out for dinner today. I asked him what he wants for his birthday on August 24. He said, “To live one more year.”

(Sunday, July 24, 2016) waning gibbous moon Aries / tarot: maiden of blades reversed

I am in the middle of Arkansas, in a high rise building. So probably Hot Springs. I am riding a bicycle over conglomerate floors that are formed like cloisonne mosaics. There are gold or brass borders separating each color. I ride over a sunny yellow stone surface. There are also areas of red, white and turquoise conglomerate.

My bike is very low, like a recumbent. I decide to raise the seat and handlebars to a normal level. I ride into an elevator, which takes me to the ground floor of the building, where I exit. I am on my way to a retreat with Terri Peterson, my breath coach.

I ride quite far, on a road into the Ouachita National Forest. I begin to climb a very long, curved slope. Higher and higher. The road comes to an abrupt end and I sail into an endless abyss of clear light.

Even though the dream is obviously evolving into what Tibetans call a clear light dream, which they find highly desirable, I become lucid and change the end of my dream. I wish to remain grounded on my Mother Earth. I ride my bike, happily, along a dirt trail.

Day notes:

When I awake I am surprised at my decision to leave the infinite space, the clear light. Was that really the right choice? I guess I prefer Earth Magic to Sky Magic.

Yesterday I received an invitation from Terri to attend another retreat at Peace Valley in Arkansas this fall. Last year’s retreat was an amazing experience, but too ethereal for me right now. Even Robert Winn, who was partnering with Terri, made comments that people needed to bring the universal into the heart center, into the body. Some people were too disconnected from their bodies, according to Robert, who has taught yoga for almost 40 years.

There is a symbolic connection between the shape of a bicycle and the infinity symbol.

This road is identical to the road in my Harry the Magician dream, but I am riding it in the opposite direction: left to right instead of right to left.