Category: Denise

Minnetonka Animal Hospital is advising that I take Lola to Blue Pearl for neurology and ophthalmic exams. She needs an MRI, perhaps to diagnose cancer. This made me really think about the little shutterings I have been noticing in her face. I have found videos of identical tremors on Google and they are of cats experiencing focal seizures. So I took a video of Lola’s twitching face.

Last fall I saw her shaking quite violently as she slept. I “saw” smoke waft from her body. I called it one of my waking dream. At the time I wondered if it was her aura but now I remember Chris’ first temporal lobe grand mal seizure. He woke up with an overwhelming sense of smell of something burning. An hour later, he fell into a seizure at Regions (that caused his heart to stop) and was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Temporal lobe seizures are also called focal seizures.

In a nightime dream I had in December I was able to heal her dilated pupil.

(Holy Fool’s Day 2018) full moon Libra / tarot nine of pentacles

It’s Easter, Passover and April 1.

I sent Dr. Lucas an email last month about my statue dreams. They reminded me of her “past life container” dreams. Here is what she replied:

“The statue dreams you are dreaming about are archetypal representations of the past life overview process. So apparently, you too are at the end of your reincarnation cycle. Congratulations!”

I certainly do not feel as enlightened as the Buddha! But I do cherish the dream of my bodhisattva partner that I had last fall. The most powerful dream of my life, I think.

Bodhisattva: the Sanskrit term for anyone who has generated bodhicitta, a spontaneous wish and compassionate mind to attain Buddhahood for the benefit of all sentient beings. A divine being worthy of nirvana who remains on the human plane to aid the salvation of others.

Sabine recently posted the full “A Row of Tombs” video on YouTube, in order to preserve it for posterity.

(Tuesday, March 27, 2018) moon waxing gibbous Leo / tarot Tower reversed

This whole dream roils like the ocean. Throughout I feel connected to the tide and the rhythmic power of the sea. It is a lucid dream by the nature of its stark physical awareness. I feel immersed in an ancient, earth-like realm that is a sister to this dimension. Or a twin.

Grey is the color of the sky, the sea, the rocky cliffs. But the mood is not grey. I am a passenger in a car being driven by Peter R. He is wildly adventurous and guns the engine, flying the vehicle over a tall stone shore into a deep bay.

Somehow we are freed from the plunging car before it begins to sink. Another woman, Sara or Bonnie, joins us as we float on the strong, dark, fizzing waves. I am surprised at the soothing, warm temperature of the water. Swimming is a joyous experience, even though the harbor is hundreds of feet in depth. I am not afraid.

The dream shifts. Peter and I are at a large cottage or inn, preparing for a journey on a boat. I need his help with this process, and he is very supportive. At one point my focus drifts and I find myself standing in the story above the bedroom where we have been packing our supplies. An unconscious man lies on the wooden floor, facing away from me. Is he a corpse? He has a cocoon-like aura. He exists in another dimension, and I have to move through a soft, web-filled portal to return to the lower level. I am pleased at how easy this is for me. Relieved.

We travel to the beach and load Peter’s boat with our gear. It’s a small powerboat, a Boston Whaler. He gives me a complex, expensive camera to use to take photos while he captains the little aluminum ship. It is important to him that I capture ocean images on our journey. It is my mission and my gift. I don’t enjoy cameras, but I respect his request. It has a metaphysical component. What?

The sea is active. We ride the large grey waves. It feels like waking life. Real, yet perceptively metaphorical at the same time. The sky is overcast, mirroring the formation of the ocean current. We love being gently tossed by the Creative Unconscious, by the Maternal Divine. La Mer.

I sit behind Peter, beginning to fiddle with the camera. There are a series of tiny dials that need to be rolled into a specific position, a specific measurement. They look almost like little black plastic vertebrae. Spine. I struggle because I can’t remember the exact settings, but Peter is not worried. He believes in my engineering skills.

Day notes:

I have been listening to Peter Gabriel’s “So” album when driving home from work. Nearly every song mentions dreaming. “Mercy Street” is dedicated to Anne Sexton, my favorite poet in my twenties. I stumbled on his award-winning YouTube video “Sledgehammer” on a day that I felt quite depressed. The beauty and humor of the Nick Park animations (creator of Wallace & Gromit) filled me with ecstacy and energy. Then Chris dug up the CD for me. I wore out my copy years ago.