Category: Denise

(Thursday, August 25, 2016) moon: third quarter Gemini / tarot: four of wands

I awake from what feels like a pretty mundane dream. I am in a large communal space, maybe a hotel. It seems to be just one level, ground level, covering a very wide swath of land. Many acres.

I am Chris’ caregiver. I want to refresh, to take a shower. But each shower room I enter in the complex is unavailable in some way. Under repair or remodel or rented by another guest.

So I go back to see Chris in his suite. His mental condition is severely deteriorated, as it was in the years following his craniotomy. Traumatic Brain Injury. To me that always felt as though his mind had completely lost anchor. Like his thoughts were constantly being erased by huge electrical waves, storms of emotional upheaval.

Day notes:

I get up at 5 to feed kitty. I am ready to head into the bathroom but Chris beats me to it. I have to wait to take my daily shower. I recognize immediately the precognitive element of my morning dream.

Later in the day the second half of the dream appears. My boss Louis comes over to my desk and I can tell he is having one of his blood sugar episodes. He is very aggressive and irrational. I have to keep asking him firm and direct questions because I don’t understand his train of thought. He is asking me to perform tasks that the web team have been doing for years, not me, and he is completely surprised to hear my explanation of who does what. He challenges me over and over. I don’t back down. He scribbles a bunch of notes on a sheet of paper outlining what he expects me to do but then begins to walk away with those notes. In frustration, I ask him to make a copy for me, and that angers him.

(Saturday, August 20, 2016) moon: waning gibbous Aries / tarot: two of pentacles

I fell back asleep after this dream, which was incredibly vibrant, but has faded because of my sleep pattern:

Chris and I are at home. Others may be with us. Our brother-in-law (married to Chris’ sister), a wild and violent man, tells us he will assassinate Chris. Following the dark threat, he stalks out of our house, into the night.

I feel terrible shock and fear. I have no doubt the man is a murderer. Even so, I look about the comforting interior of our house. It is a beautiful and eccentric environment, full of unusual color combinations and well-loved art. It’s a bit like our living house, but more so. To the next level. Like a painting by the surrealist Leonora Carrington.

It is time for me to go to work, so I travel the rather long distance to the office. I settle in, and the murderous brother-in-law reappears, amplifying his threat against Chris.

I know it is urgent that I buy a gun. It is urgent that I get home as quickly as possible, before my brother-in-law harms Christopher. A few of my coworkers want to help, and we leave the office together.

I make a quick purchase of a very deadly handgun. Large, heavy, powerful. We all jump into my car and speed onto the highway together. The clock is ticking, every second is critical.

The murderer is following us. We decide to pull off the road, to try to trick him into a situation that we control. We run over hilly, green terrain, into a thick woods. As he searches for us, I point my handgun at his chest, but either I miss or the gun doesn’t go off. I realize I have never shot a gun in my life and cannot expect to aim with any success. In a stand-off, I will be the one killed, not my opponent.

We decide to flee the forest, to rush back to the house. Once home, I run from lovely room to lovely room, calling Chris’ name. No answer. Finally, I stumble into a bedroom and find him dead on the floor, a bullet through his heart.

Instantly, I perceive a second, overlapping layer of the dream. No bullet has pierced his heart. Chris rises up from the floor to greet me, as if waking from a nap. Is he a ghost? Or a sentient being?

Day notes:

The tarot card was accurate: two of pentacles is about balance. I fell out in Chaska today and now can barely walk on my right foot.

I know there is an episode in this dream where I notify the police and ask for protection, probably on my way to the office. I don’t remember their response. It seems they do not help. But I can’t be sure. 

Members of my not-so-close family are angry and destructive. It’s Chris’ birthday next week and I have been wondering if his sister will bother to mail a card.

Another dream with contrary content: the house is inspiring and evolved, the distant relations are dangerous and full of hate. 

What to do when I retire? I have thought about selling the Wayzata house (too big!) and buying a tiny one or two bedroom house in the city, plus a small adobe in New Mexico. But these dreams of my present house seem to be telling me it is important to stay where I am. There is more here than I realize on a conscious level.

(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.