An Upcoming Meeting On A White Round-Edged Table

(Wednesday, February 5, 2025) first quarter moon Taurus

My first memory in quite some time of a long dream:

I am in a very large space full of floor-to-ceiling windows. It reminds me of the meeting room we used for the dream workshop taught by Victoria when she came to town a few years ago. There is an expansive white table and I stand at the edge, where Victoria stood to give her presentation. The edges are curved, shaped like my big, waking-life office table from Ikea.

I have helped organize this upcoming event. A couple dozen people will participate. My reputation is linked to a book I have written. Eventually we will all have a delicious and fancy meal together, but since my diet is limited (gluten-free and vegetarian) I eat a small veggie pizza ahead of the meeting.

Someone is with me. I have no visual memory of what they look like, who they are. Their presence feels very strong. A spirit? They are always on my right side, like my frequent male spirit guide, although this one is not as tall. We leave the meeting room and head to my own room. A hotel? An apartment? My home? The ceiling, walls and floors are white, like the table. I start switching on ceiling lights but at first they are all so dim they add no illumination. I click and click. Finally I find a switch that brings light and vision to my space.

The two of us leave for a walk to my mother’s house, my childhood home in Fridley. Perhaps I wish to coax my mother to join our meeting. We walk up the short, grassy hill and enter the side door. Inside is pure chaos. My mother is emotionally out of control. The house is full of lovely, expensive furniture yet none of it is organized in the appropriate rooms. Mess!

We decide to leave without my mother, but I first brush my hair in the bathroom and pull it into a ponytail.

Day notes:

I had a conversation with my sisters this week about how emotionally erratic my mother is right now.

The meeting reminds me of all the work ahead at the Mayo (traveling on Sunday to a “booked” hotel for a Monday meeting). Cullan is required to join me each time. The guide did often feel like it might be Cullan. Lots of Mayo members will be participating, like the group at the large white table. Sometimes behind the scenes. “My reputation” might be about the dozens and dozens of complex tests I have already contributed to the study. Telling my story. One of the neurologists said that an unusual number of his patients with semantic dementia have been writers or English teachers. One was a college professor. I think of Emerson again.

I have considered telling Victoria I am ending working with her Saturday/Sunday dream group. Too much stress in my life right now. I don’t have the energy. On the edge!

Sometimes I think “mother” in my recent dreams is Hillary. Or me.

A ponytail: brushing my hair, my mane, tightly around my crown chakra. My skull and brain. I take Lion’s Mane mushroom supplements for help with memory loss.

“Finally I find a switch that brings light and vision to my space.” A cure? Not expecting one.

Fragment: I’m Not Dreaming

(Friday, January 31, 2025)

Today I have a small memory of a dream where I sit up in bed and say, rather loudly, “I’m not dreaming.”

I am experiencing nothing more than tiny dream fragments since moving out of my upper bedroom and since Cullan and Hillary have separated. Lots of stress and sorrow. I am sleeping well, but I get up early (4 or 5 am) to not arouse Chris from his long morning sleep.

Courtroom, Upper Story, Flight And Ocean Roots

(Tuesday, January 7, 2025) first quarter moon Aries / tarot Moon

A vivid, long dream early this morning:

A group of family members, siblings and a few cousins, are standing outside, near the edge of a walk-out basement (very much like my old Plymouth home). There is a narrow overlap of a room on the first floor, so we are in a slightly dark space. Not much sunlight. We are near my mother, and she is in her most fowl of moods. Angry, aggressive. We all tell her she is like a historical villain (from real life or a book), but I can’t remember the evil name when I wake up.

In fact we move on to the courtroom where she will be tried. It is in the lower level of a building. Three judges enter and begin to seat themselves at the elevated bench. Maybe we are the jury. Maybe we are the attendants. We all raise our hands up and start to whoop. We want our testimony heard!

Then the dream shifts to an upper story. I am sharing a bedroom with my cousins from Winona. They are about to begin acting a play or playing a game, but I grab my clothes and pack them into my suitcase. I am preparing for a journey in an airplane.

The dream shifts again. Now I am standing on a tiny, rocky bit of land between two ocean inlets. I look forward and see a very interesting trail just a few inches below the water. It is made of complicated, rhythmic roots that are about three or four feet wide. Beautiful. A coral reef made of wood? Suddenly I see granddaughter Oona and a group of her young friends stride quickly along the roots. They are strong and balanced, but I panic. I make them turn around and head back to dry land. I explain how the tide could rise and push them into the deep sea.