(Santa Fe dream from Tuesday, September 9, 2014) Full moon in Pisces: spent the day doing dreamwork and collage with Victoria Rabinowe and Freya Diamond, then the early evening with Sabine Lucas listening to a processed sound recording of my voice.
Nightmare:
I am at home with Chris, tending two birds that live with us in our small, comfortable house. There is a mama bird and a smaller, frailer bird. The feathers on the backs, wings and heads of the birds are brilliant cerulean-turquoise blue. The breast feathers are luminously golden. Like an Eastern Bluebird. For the first time I am feeling guilt about their domestic captivity and I talk to Chris about releasing them to the freedom of the outdoors. He stands in the shadows on my right side. He is softly amenable.
I open the front door and carry the birds out in my hands, raising my arms up rapidly to release them into flight. Mama bird flies safely off to my left but baby bird flutters weakly ahead and lands on the pure white gravel road that runs past the house. He is so out of touch with his instincts that he has no fear of the dangerous road. I hesitate for a moment, expecting mama to come to the rescue but she waits quietly in the wings. I run out onto the white stone pathway, placing my right arm up in a “halt” motion to stop traffic while I scoop up the bluebird with my left hand.
It is too late. I stand in the green grass, holding the injured bird in my open palms. My grief turns to horror when I see that the head, wings and tail are already missing. Decomposition has been instantaneous. Only the trunk of the bird remains, breast facing up. The torso is black and leathery with an orange pattern that reminds me of the Kabbala Tree of Life. Eight strange, spindly black appendages, like spider or scorpion legs, are attached to the torso but they, too, decay and fall away before my eyes. And even though the creature is now headless, I can perceive breath and a beating heart. This final vision is like a sword being thrust through my own heart.
Day notes:
This is the dream I shared with Victoria and Freya. I told them the story of Chris’ recent hospitalization with sepsis (infection of the blood). They both felt it was important to complete living wills on my return home. Sabine also found the dream ominous.
Victoria and Freya were going to do a Tree of Life workshop at their synagogue that Sunday.
After my day with Victoria and Freya I was heading down Paseo de Peralta to Sabine’s house. I was stopped at a red light but the vehicle ahead of me backed up and hit the front of my rental car. When I finally made it to Sabine’s house, two hours late, she said: “Don’t let any more men hit you.” She also said the bluebirds were Soul Birds.
White stones have become a dream theme. These stones were smooth and rounded, like river rock. When my grandmother passed many years ago, I had a dream of watching her cross the river of death.
