Last night I met with Bonnie, Jeanne, Peter and Patrick. I was the dreamer and Bonnie was my guide. I shared a dream from April 18, “My Transitional Space.” We decided to work with the dream by having the group ask me questions and then have each of us write a response based on different symbols (Pat: empty house, Bonnie: windows, Peter: stairs, Jeanne: red brick house, Denise: my back).
Introvert that I am, Bonnie often asks me what new ideas I have about my dream after our work together, and I always say I am still percolating. This morning I have had insights I did not expect.
Both Bonnie and Pat interpreted the sculptural plaster as art, a reminder of all the work with clay I have done in the past. Peter responded to the phrase “top story” (which is why he worked on the stairs symbol). Now I understand that this dream is an answer to a question I have been asking my dream guides (based on my 2025 Resolution): “what stories will I write?” I have been planning for a renovation in my life, moving from sculpture to storytelling. I’ve reorganized my basement studio for writing instead of for clay. My empty dream castle is in very early transition from art to writing. The stairs lead me up to many stories. Even the wall “paper” is a symbol of writing, journaling. Perhaps the old English house is a clue to fairy tales. Because at the very end of the dream I am an observer of my back, it confirms that this is a reply from my spirit guides (who often “have my back”). The smooth, healthy back reminds me, too, of the back cover of a book. Done and done.
A dream of sleep paralysis: I am lying on my back with the comforter covering my mouth. I feel it is hard to breathe. I don’t realize I can just breathe out of my nose.
I can flip my head back and forth but I cannot move my body. I turn to Chris and ask him to touch me, to help me be able to move. But he doesn’t hear me, he is asleep.
In another part of the dream he is lying on his stomach under the bed. Sideways. He asks me to turn on the light, and then turn it back off. He cannot move. I push toward him some kind of electrical tool that is inside of one of my shoes. That is the cure.
Chris and I have a giant, multi-story house that is being completely renovated, down to the plaster walls. The mansion is nearly empty because of all of the work that is being done. Almost no furniture, no pictures on the walls, no drapes. It is perhaps centuries old because the plaster is very thick and not drywall-smooth.
I am working on the walls, spackling and painting. I enjoy the sculptural texture of the plaster. In some rooms I plan to add wallpaper, so those walls need to be flattened, smoothed. It is curious that many of the rooms have no windows, perhaps because of how huge the house is. Some rooms may only be attached to other interior rooms.
The windows that I do notice are positioned in areas where windows from neighboring houses do not access the inside of my house. They cannot see my interior from the installed angles. As the dreamer I think of my windows as having the function of visual reversal. Mirrors?
I am finishing up my work because Chris is planning for an upcoming, casual party. He is in his thirties or forties, the age when we met. He owns a business and has the same extroverted personality he had back then. As I finish, a bunch of his employees, men and women, enter the house and bounce up several flights of stairs to have a meeting together on the top story.
To get ready for the small party, I head into a bathroom for a shower, to clean up after my project. But the bathroom is completely empty, no shower or sink or toilet. It is under construction. I look out one window and see a beautiful, antique, English-style red brick house.
I search for another bathroom and find one that is part of a bedroom with twin beds, yet still with no completed plumbing facilities. I find a hose on the floor, take off my clothes and give myself a spray.
I am in a hurry because I know our guests are on the way. I am naked and stressed. I have to bolt up the stairs to try to find underwear and clothes. I hear Chris explaining to recent arrivals about a card game we are going to play. Winners get chocolate rewards.
At the end of this dream I become an observer. I am viewing my back, naked but in perfect condition. As women’s bodies often are in our twenties or thirties.
Day notes:
My friend Travis is finishing skim coating and painting my entryway.When he is done my friend Denisea will apply wallpaper.The wallpaper is a pattern that includes flowers, ravens and psychic third-eyes. “Weird” wallpaper. Chris likes it. Denisea and I love it. I am painting the heavy second door that will be reattached to the entryway.
This seems to be a dream about a radical change in my life.
Yesterday when I came home from the Mayo I sat across from Chris in the living room and listened to music for a while. I remembered most of the lyrics and sang along. I had a deep spiritual experience (again) about the Mayo. I felt OK with the upcoming transition in my life from coherence to confusion.
I so often dream of backs and spines. I wonder why. I think of my painless Mayo spinal tap, but it is probably a kundalini element. I have been dizzy lately.
My writing from when this was shared with The Dreamsters: “My Back” In this dream, I have had anxiety about my body being exposed. There are dozens of people in my renovation project, yet none are around when I am naked. Perhaps my own insight is more clear, more open, more real and without cover, than what others can see. Or being open to all, regardless of my fear, is what can be healing in the end. My back, my spine that travels all the way to the top story (to my brain) is in good health. Kundalini brings eternal youth and energy and connection to the multiverse. Like Bonnie’s magic snakes. I am my own guide. I have my back, as I say in so many dreams. And I am going back to the beginning, as are we all.
