Author: Denise

(Sunday, October 20, 2024)

I attended two parties for Oona’s third birthday yesterday, so I was not able to write down my dreams. Details have faded, but they both have powerful elements I want to record.

Dream 1: Wyn’s Daimon

I am helping my grandson, about 10 years of age, make an informational phone call. I think it is Wyn. We are using an old-fashioned landline and listening to an instructional guide. I feel like the conversation is expressly for Wyn, so I click on a button to remove myself from the call, but both of us get “hung up.” That makes me a guilty grandma! Yet, the guide immediately arrives in person. He is thin, at least eight-feet tall. He is much more visible than the spirit guides I often dream of. The details of his face, body and clothing are clear to us. Blond-haired instead of dark-haired. In person, a loving friend.

Dream 2: The Thinning Veil

I am in my tall castle and this one seems to be made of fragile drywall covered with pale, flowered old wallpaper. There is no furniture, no yard, just one tiny window. Nearly empty. Even the staircase needs a railing. The rooms are haunted but I push the annoying ghosts away. I go in and out. Each time I come in from the street I find hand-painted artwork that I quickly made before heading out the front door. I am stunned by the beauty and skill of the paintings. Speedy little masterpieces.

Day notes, October 29:

I shared this dream last night and this morning this thought came up: The thin wall of the castle reminded me of the veil between this life and the next. And me pushing the ghosts around means it is nowhere near time to leave this life, even though in the dream “I go in and out.” 

We all wrote haikus last night about our dreams. This is mine:
My home feels royal
Ancestral spirits live here
Creativity is joy

Little sculpture I did for our Monday night dream group (October 28).

(Wednesday, October 9, 2024) moon first quarter Capricorn / tarot Strength

I am heading to hear a speech by Kamala Harris, driving on a long, straight road in St. Paul. Summit Avenue? There are huge castle-style buildings like those I knew as a teenager. I used to take Catechism at Latino-Grace and we would often go to workshops in a beautiful old manor-house in St. Paul. Catechism there was a politically liberal environment.

I reach a railroad and turn to the right, parking outside of a new, large hotel. Surprise: I meet Kamala in person at a tall table provided for a private meeting with a few other women. I am the first to arrive and I sit next to her (she is on my left). She gives me a sweet hug. She has my back for the entire event. Overwhelmed, I begin with small talk about St. Paul. “It has such a different vibe than Minneapolis,” I say. We continue to chat about different parts of the country as more women arrive to sit at our table. We are to discuss climate change.

A much younger woman with blonde hair is at my right. She holds a magazine she designed and asks me: “How is your job going?” Perhaps she is my younger self. I admit that I have been forced to retire. Two sympathetic Secret Service men standing at my left are very angry about my unplanned professional fate.

When our conversation about climate change begins the dream shifts. I walk to the top of a steep mountain and transition into a middle-aged man with dark hair. My family owns this property. A drought has taken over the region. We need to put out large steel buckets just to save a little bit of rain for garden beds. It feels like death. I am afraid my children will not survive.

Day notes:

Hurricane Milton is terrifying. It arrives in Tampa early Thursday morning. There are already tornadoes in Florida.

St. Paul is the capital of Minnesota. Governor Walz is Harris’ running mate. I lived in Lowertown when art was a big part of my life. The State Capital is near the St. Paul Cathedral.

I am watering my backyard today. We have a drought. Rustic Lodge is on a steep hill above Minnehaha Creek.

Maybe the dark-haired man is Cullan. I do very much worry about what my grandkids’ lives will be like with dramatic, dangerous climate change.

Day notes November 16, 2024:

After Kamala lost the election on November 5, I was horrified to realize the deepest meaning of this dream. It feels like our democracy is dead, that autocracy and the Christian Right are taking over our country. I shared this dream with Cindy B. and she shared it again with Victoria’s dream circle. We discussed it yesterday. Everyone confirmed that we hadn’t realized the precognition of this dream. Until now.

(Monday, October 7, 2024) waxing crescent Sagittarius / tarot queen of cups

I am working in the upper story of a castle, painting and decorating. I move towards an edge of the room that is angled by the eaves. I nearly scrape my head because the ceiling there is close, not as tall as in the middle of the room. It feels like my bedroom in Rustic Lodge, triangular. I am low-energy from all of the design chores I have been doing day-after-day.

I take a break. I need to rest. I walk down a floor and notice a group of workers in the center of the mansion. They are small and remind me of dwarves, but also of the Richfield Latino residents. Many in the Richfield Hispanic community do all kinds of good, hard work: mowing, painting, construction, roofing, etc. Some of them are only 5 feet tall.

It is a huge relief to me to find a talented bunch who can help me with my projects. We chat for a bit and I tell them they are welcome to live in the castle.

I head outdoors, where I can now see the exterior of my manor. It is made from large rocks, not carved stones or bricks. This tells me it is very old, from the Early Middle Ages (also called The Dark Ages). There is a narrow moat at the front, coupled with the ocean.

The sky is full of somber clouds and the sea is murky, nearly black. I find a motorboat and drive across a large bay that is connected to the wide-open ocean. After a few minutes the rising waves give me anxiety, hesitation. I turn around and see the giant sailing ship that belongs to the castle. It is moored in the moat, at the front of the palace, large enough to be a traveling home for many people. It appears to be as ancient as the stone manor house.

Before I reach the moat, I see a man and a woman on separate rafts, floating outward towards the sea. Smiling, they are paddling by hand, but sinking, sinking, sinking. Soon they have completely disappeared from my sight. Gone.

Day notes:

Snowball got me up at 3 a.m. today! I am very tired. My numerous painting projects please me but also exhaust me. Tomorrow I paint the fireplace. Bob is going to make shoe molding (baseboard trim) for me next month.

I went to the Walker Art Center with the kiddos on Saturday and Oona bumped her head on one of the outdoor sculptures. It made her cry for a few minutes. I bumped my head yesterday when I was cleaning the bathroom floor.

The drowning couple are obviously my parents.

Who are the dwarves, I wonder? I have help, it seems.

My “Early Middle Ages” absolutely were “Dark Ages” because Chris had so many dire health issues.