Friday morning I had a long dream, most of which has disappeared. I remember playing on a large field, the size of a soccer field, with my coworker Bill, his five children and a few dozen more kids. Everyone having fun. We took a break, left the field, and when we returned there was a giant evergreen tree in the middle of the grassy playground. A conifer the size of a redwood.
Redecorating My Ancestral Home
(Saturday, July 25, 2015) Moon: waxing gibbous Scorpio / Tarot: Chariot reversed
First of two dreams.
Chris, Cullan and I have just moved to our palatial new residence: like an ancestral home of the English nobility.
I dive in, with great enthusiasm, to the massive task of redecorating. I don’t seem to have any concept of the size of the house (hundreds of rooms on multiple levels) and I assume I can manage it all on my own. The structure has the appearance of many decades or even centuries of abandonment. Has it been waiting for my arrival? My awakening to its presence?
My first design idea is to paint the walls grey and the wood trim white. But as I start to inspect the carved wood that covers columns, fireplaces, doors and walls, I see that the wood is beautiful golden oak from ancient forests. It would be a crime to cover it with paint. Instead, I decide to gild the walls with rich, metallic copper, a perfect complement to the oak.
After working feverishly and enthusiastically for a long time, a sense of overwhelming begins to creep in. I take a break and walk outside. Chris and Cullan are sitting on two large stones. Cullan makes a negative comment about Chris’ and my love-life, in the tone of a sulking ten-year-old, the age he was when Chris and I met. I ignore him. I am too happy about the house to be influenced by his mood.
When I go back inside, I enter a completely different area of the estate. Every inch, every corner, is covered in white paint or white stone. Calming, pristine. I love it!
Day notes:
I spent 6 hours today in my neglected garden beds. The size of this property is so often overwhelming to me, since there are only a few tasks that Chris can manage. The bulk of the work is mine. Still, I’m happy when it’s done.
Who Stole the Pickle from the Pickle Jar? Who Me? Couldn’t Be!
(Saturday, July 25, 2015) Moon: waxing gibbous Scorpio / Tarot: Chariot reversed
Second dream.
I’m at a dream event at someone’s home. I am part of the outer ring, not the inner circle. I see Arthur from the IASD, a founder of the organization.
To pass the time, I go to the kitchen to see if there is anything to eat. Someone has brought a two-gallon glass jar full of miniature dill pickles. The pickles are accessed through little glass drawers on the side of the jar that one pulls open with a tiny silver handle. As I try to open a drawer, it pops off the jar, landing on the linoleum floor.
I get down on my hands and knees, searching for the small piece of glass, with no luck. Of course I feel guilty, but there is nothing to be done. The drawer is nowhere to be found, at least by me.
I walk back into the living room, with the intention of moving on, leaving the meeting. Walter B. is seated at the end of a long table, facilitating a group of dreamers. As I pass by him on my way to the door, he grabs my right hand. He turns to me and says, “Please sit, I would like to talk with you when the meeting is over.” His demeanor is warm and gentle. Very supportive. I feel loved. I sit slightly behind him, to his left.
Day notes:
I had a lovely parting experience with Walter in Virginia Beach. We came down into the hotel lobby at the same moment. I gave him a big hug and he was fine with that. He thanked me for “my presence.” I thought he meant my presentation, and I said, “but I didn’t give a presentation.” He made a swirl with his hand, like he had done when he was describing a crazy New Age woman he had dated to Bonnie and I at lunch one day. But he was very serious and respectful. “Your electrical presence,” he said.
My second dream of Walter in a couple of weeks. In the first dream he was a Trickster figure. Pickles seem like Trickster food.
Arthur ended up not being able to be seated at the table his partner had saved at one of the IASD lunches. She had offered chairs to Peter and I but then Rachel’s friend showed up a bit later and took Arthur’s chair. With no sense of guilt whatsoever when he showed up with his plate of food.