Author: Denise

(Wednesday, May 2, 2013)  I’m walking up a sidewalk on the edge of a hilly street in Santa Fe. I take a playful skip-step and a group of 20-somethings in the crosswalk behind me do the same, laughing. The man walking in front of me turns his head back and smiles at me. We are all in a very joyful mood. I think to myself, this is why I am happiest in the mountains: the people I meet are open and friendly.

I turn into a restaurant doorway, Café Pasqual, which has the reputation for being one of the best restaurants in Santa Fe. (I met the owner when I took my first class at Santa Fe Clay in 2006. Anne and I ate there last year, and Cullan and I a few years earlier.)

It doesn’t look like Pasqual’s, though. It’s much bigger, with several dining rooms instead of one tiny one (the real café is so small that patrons who have never met are seated at tables together). The hostess greets me and brings me to a small square table at the center of the main room. I feel really lucky to get in the door, much less have my own table at this legendary restaurant. The smiling man from the street is seated across from me, to my left. He looks like Dr. Sparrow of the IASD (a lucid dreamer).

I have a few tarot cards wrapped in silk in my left hand, which I place on the left side of the wooden tabletop. The waitress comes up on my right to greet me. (The entrance is at my back and the register is to my right, near a large bank of windows. I can see another row of windows in front of me.) I look up at her and begin to place my order. When she moves away, I gaze at the cards and notice that the stack has increased in depth; it appears to now be a full deck. The waitress returns, coming up from behind me this time, and silently places a tarot card, face up, on the right side of the table, near my right hand.

The top edge of the card is torn off. It’s a minor arcana card that depicts a woman standing alone, wearing a long, draped dress. When I awake, I don’t remember which card it is, but the only Rider options are the 8 of swords and the 9 of pentacles. I drew the 9 of pentacles this morning in my meditation, so I have to suspect it was that card.

Day notes:

Yesterday Bonnie sent me a photo of the card spread from our birthday party.

The form of this dream is the same as the Puma in the Meadow dream: a square shape (dining room/walking path) with a dream character in the center (me/puma). The character of the man on the street looks back at me, as does the puma. The terrain of both dreams is rolling hills; both dreams have kitchens that feed many people.

Pasqual: Easter child, Passover

9 of pentacles: self-discipline, ability to mother yourself, to give birth to a good life for yourself

(Tuesday, April 30, 2013)  The Dreamsters Union has arrived for an overnight stay. I have plenty of rooms for everyone; no need for anyone to share. Each dreamer’s room is on its own level, built on a concrete slab, giving it the feeling of a step/steppe. The house is narrow but deep and all the bedrooms are at the back. Step back.

The visit is unexpected. My rooms are not ready for guests: bathroom vanities are full of make-up and sundries pulled from the medicine chests. Beds are unmade; blankets and sheets are torn loose from the mattresses. But we make do.

Claudia is the first to wake up in the morning. She hasn’t slept well and feels a little ill. I realize I must go out to find breakfast for my guests. I prepare to depart with my sculptor friend Anne-Francois Pattis (from Provence, in the south of France, by way of Highland Park, Illinois). I leave my infant daughter behind in the care of one of my visitors. Baby can’t speak yet, but I give her a big hug and promise to bring home an M&M muffin. In my mind I see a fat, fluffy muffin covered with colorful, happy candies.

Anne and I start walking to the shopping district. I tell her there is a lovely bakery just a few blocks from my house. Being French, I know she has extremely high standards for pastries (and everything else!). But we walk and walk and walk. We end up in a large retail store, Macys in St. Paul. We hurry through the store so we can continue our search for the neighborhood with the tiny boutique shops. I begin to grow anxious. I’m lost and Anne has a short fuse.

I decide to circle back toward the house. In frustration, I burst through the alley door of a small shop, stumbling upon the arcade full of boutiques, completely by accident.

It’s a fabulous experience. Each emporium is exquisitely decorated and stocked. One room is particularly beautiful, with rough plaster walls the blue-green color of shimmering Lake Michigan on a calm, sunny day. The proprietors are equally handsome, attired in Bohemian garb, delightfully serving each customer with theatrical panache. It could be 1991 at the Loring Bar, or Paris at the turn of the last century.

Even Anne-Francois is enchanted. We notice the petite French pâtisserie in the farthest corner of the market. We head back to see the pretty, dark-haired woman behind the glass bakery case. She shows us the most gorgeous delicacies, including a lacy, curled-up waffle full of fruit that melts in my mouth and caresses my nose with a heavenly perfume.

It would be scandalous to ask for an M&M muffin! We fill a white paper bag full of pastries and return contentedly home.

Day notes:

Monday night I shared my dream of the house with 53 bedrooms with my fellow Dreamsters.

I was reading an article in the IASD magazine about shamanic dreaming. The author said that counters and other types of barriers can signify the border between worlds. Hence someone on the other side of the counter could be an ancestor or visitor from “the other side.” This barrier, the bakery case, is glass: transparent.

A stern, dark-haired woman has been a recurring figure in my dreams for 30 years. Dream-Anne is like the stern, dark-haired dream woman, but Anne is grey now.

This dream and “Puma in the Meadow” both have the action of leaving a house, walking out into the world with a female friend, then circling back. Both dreams end before I re-enter the house.

The dream plot: Very special visitors arrive, inter-dimensional visitors (dreamers). I am unprepared. Part of me is newly born, but I must trust the care of that part of me to the dreamers. I leave my home to search for bread. I don’t need to go far, but in spite of that I get a little lost. I can’t find what I need in the Big Store, in Big Business. My treasure is in the Small Store of the Handmade (Hand Maid). I have a stern guide who is nevertheless delighted when I find the beauty and sweetness I am looking for.

Claudia sent me an email this morning asking about the hypnotherapist Eric Christopher. She has to fly to a wedding in California and she is feeling anxious. It’s activating her flight phobia. “Claudia is the first (dreamer) to wake up…” Wake up spiritually?

(Tuesday, April 23, 2013)  Christopher has purchased a home for us from an older gentleman who lived there with his beloved wife until she passed away. The house sits in the middle of an open meadow.

I enter the house with my friend Michelle to show her around. Chris is in the kitchen, chatting with Dan Connor. I notice for the first time that the kitchen has two stoves, two refrigerators, two sinks. It’s built to entertain many guests, as is the whole house. The rooms are expansive and the upstairs has dozens of bedrooms. For some reason I think there are 53. Each bedroom has as many beds packed into the space as possible. The house has been empty since the death of the gentleman’s dear wife so the furnishings and decor are a little tired. When she was alive, however, it was quite sumptuous.

Michelle and I go outside for a walk in the meadow. Lots of other people are doing the same, enjoying the beautiful, sunny day. We are walking on a path that forms a large square. We reach the farthest point from the house when I see a huge mountain lion in the center of the grassland. The cat looks over its shoulder, directly at me. It’s prehistoric in size, an ice-age feline, yet I don’t fear for myself. I fear for the other people in the meadow, especially the two young women nearest the cat. Until I realize the puma is a mythic beast and that any danger it may pose is not physical. (Lucid moment?)

Day notes:

Meadow: open field, field of opening

My second recent big cat dream. “White Lion” was the first. The book “Mystery of the White Lions” proposes that one reason for the reappearance of white lions in South Africa is as harbingers of a new ice age (caused by climate change). Snow Lions.

The Tarot reader Julie Cuchia-Watts told me I could work on my marriage in dream-time. She also said Chris would write about his amazing life-death experiences (he’s already started). This seems like a past-life dream to me.

Michelle and I went to see an East Indian dance program Friday night, put on by our friend Suchitra Sairam. Michelle has long dark hair like Julie. She is a writer and also coaches other writers.

I am not that close to Michelle so it’s curious to me why she appears. She is always dressed completely in black, I wonder if she is Lola in disguise. I think of the Beatles lyric “Michelle, ma belle.” Belle is one of Lola’s many nicknames.

 From the web:

People who have identified the puma, mountain lion, and/or cougar as their animal totem are people who typically come into this world with a spiritual knowing. Those who attract this animal totem have a deeper understanding of spiritual things. They are very psychic, intuitive, and are likely to be artistically inclined.

Furthermore, the puma is a very protective energy. If you have this creature as your animal totem, you are blessed to have such a fierce and aggressive guardian with you. When called upon you will be amazed at the resourcefulness and assistance the puma meaning can offer.

Native American Mountain Lion Symbolism and Lessons

These felines, with their take-charge energy, symbolize leadership, physical grace, strength and coming into one’s own personal power, which is similar to black panther symbolism, reclaiming one’s own personal power. Mountain lion’s cycle of power is year ‘round. She teaches people that leadership doesn’t equate with dictatorship. Dictators are tyrants who abuse their power and prevent followers from doing things on their own and being part of the decision making process. True leaders listen to and enable their followers. The key to personal power is confidence in the direction in which a person has chosen to follow.

The mountain lion teaches people to learn the ability to be so true to themselves in terms of responsibility, honesty, responsibility and to trust their inner knowledge and sense of personal responsibility, so that the voices of their detractors are no louder than that of a whisper. She balances responsibility, intention and strength and shows people how to do this.

Native American Mountain Lion Qualities

The Cherokee people considered the mountain lion and the owl sacred because they have the power to see in the dark. Their attributes vary with Native Americans. Positive qualities are proper use of power in leadership, self-confidence in dealing with problematic people, balancing power, intention and strength, needing freedom and cunning which can be positive, like the weasel’s, in that it means being clever in showing inventiveness and skill and negative which is being crafty and skilled in deception.