Category: Uncategorized

(Friday, February 18, 2022) tarot: Tower

I am sleeping in my upstairs bedroom, but the dream seems to take place after the house was first built and decades before I moved in. The owner, possibly the woman who helped design 100 Rustic Lodge, stands in the corner near the right foot of the bed. She is attractive, clever, warm, strong and healthy. The attic area is unfinished and cluttered: wood rafters, wood floors, strewn extra furniture, cedar chests and old wardrobes of clothing.

I am aware of my dream within this dream. Lying on my back, my body becomes charged with electricity. In the dream I try to understand the physical experience. It is not painful, but it is overwhelming because it is so mysterious and powerful. The circuitry between every cell is complete.

I decide to wake up. I have a friendly conversation with the beautiful, calm woman. She is hosting a large conference and has invited me to stay in her house for the event. I tell her about the sensation of my body being fully charged. Not just tingling, not just vibrating. She is a good listener, perhaps one of my spirit guides.

A small boy has come with me to the conference. He rested in the attic in a toddler bed when I was lucid dreaming.

I Sing the Body Electric, by Walt Whitman:

I sing the body electric,
The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45472/i-sing-the-body-electric

Day notes:

One meaning of the Tower tarot card is electricity. Today I got my second electrical bill that had double wattage compared to a year ago. I am trying to figure that out. Using more power.

When I consider my spirit guides, I always think they are in the right corner of the bedroom, near the foot of my bed. I don’t know why.

I am in charge? My body? My soul? My ancestry?
Or I am charged, with what responsibilities?

(Wednesday, February 9, 2022) tarot: Strength

Chris and I walk down our old wooden stairs to the basement. We know kitty Snowball is roaming around underground, exploring the lower level, but it is dim and we don’t see him. A twin set of wooden stairs is next to our stairs, parallel. We sit on the bottom of those steps. Snowball comes toward us. We assume he will skitter away, as usual, but he actually rubs us around our legs, affectionately. His fear is gone. He is pure white, no spots, and has beautiful, fluffy lamb’s-wool fur. He heads up to the landing at the top of the steps. I see no door, but the staircase door in our house is on the side wall, so that could be true in the dream. Snowball meets his mother and small siblings, who are having dinner together on the landing. His mother faces us, a bit stern. She has human eyes. Her patterns and coloration match Snowball’s in waking life.

Day notes:

I asked for a dream message, incubation, which never works for me, but this time it occurred at 5:30 in the morning the day I had to decide if I would confirm surgery for our feral cat, or let him go. I filled out a long, online application to donate him as a barn cat, but then I called SCRAM and had an hour-long conversation with a woman who has worked with feral cats for 18 years. She told me barn cats usually live less than 2 years, and after remembering my grandmother’s suffering barn cats, I knew that was true.

(Sunday, January 2, 2022, sister Jamie’s birthday)

I did not sleep past midnight on New Year’s Eve, so the first dream I remember of 2022 is a fragment from this morning. I’m facing a wide mountain range. The slopes are covered by pines and small boulders. I see no roads or pathways but I do see a shiny black vehicle that is larger than a Jeep. It has specially-designed wheels and tires. I watch the upper right wheel spin in a demonstration focused toward me. The entire truck, in fact, is engineered to travel effortlessly along the long, steep ridge.

As I write this fragment, a second one comes up of me working on some art projects. A book?

A fragment from Saturday includes an older woman and man who are the couple who designed our Rustic Lodge House in 1903. They are intelligent and well-suited to each other and their family. The man has a twin soul aspect: he is a married man that I have current fondness for. Most of the dream takes place along a wooded lakeshore, which is the theme I have been having lately. The oddest aspect of the dream shows young children being put inside square, clear plastic boxes. The boxes will somehow transfer them across light years of space.

Wednesday provided a waking dream. I drove past 58th and Lyndale to pick up a bowl of soup at Lakewinds Coop that I brought with me on my trip to visit my parents in Cambridge. A few minutes after I arrived, my cousin Tom Wolfe (Richards) called and the four of us talked for about 45 minutes. It was his mother (my godmother) Marge’s 100th birthday. Her old house is at 5725 Bryant Avenue South.