(Monday, March 23, 2015) Waxing crescent in Taurus / tarot: queen of wands
I’m walking along a dusty, desert market road that runs through hilly terrain. A few sage bushes cling to the golden sand. The market is very simple, nomadic: a single row of square tents made of rough canvas, dark green in color. Like army-issue.
To my right is the market, to my left a high-wire prison fence. Maybe Guantanamo. More likely an American Iraqi or Afghani facility. Secret, black ops?
A dark-skinned young man dressed all in black runs up to the edge of the fence, yelling for my attention. I immediately think he is a member of ISIS. He has something vitally important to communicate to me, an issue of life and death.
I run to the fence and face him, ready to listen and take whatever action is required. But instead of imparting a brief and urgent directive, he starts to tell me the long story of how he ended up in a terrorist organization like ISIS. He is now clothed in a worn, ripped pair of khakis and a simple cotton shirt in earthy brown tones. Either I understand his dialect or he is an American teenager who speaks English with a slight accent.
He has my sympathy but we are both in great danger conversing in the open. I run across the road to hide myself in the market. Two men come running over the hill toward the young man; one from inside the fence, a fellow prisoner; one from outside the fence, holding a loaded pistol. They both mean him harm. The pistol is fired.
Day notes: The main news story tonight is about ISIS publishing the names and addresses of 100 US soldiers on the internet, urging jihadists to pick them off, one-by-one. I am in the middle of Ann Baring’s book “The Dream of the Cosmos.” She is outlining how The Myth of the Fall (the story of Adam and Eve’s eviction from the Garden of Eden) has created murderous misogyny in Christian and Muslim cultures (burning of witches in Europe and America, beheading and stoning of women in the current-day Middle East). It makes me sad that the name of the great goddess Isis is now associated with the horror of murdering innocent journalists and aid workers. This dream also reminds me, a bit, of Bonnie’s dream “Finding Abandoned Baby Boy.” Her dream character has a tail, mine has a tale.