TheDreamstersUnion

(Monday, June 17, 2024) first quarter moon Scorpio / tarot Moon

I am sleeping much better, enjoying more dreams. This morning it was an expansive dream. Some of the details are gone and perhaps in the wrong order.

First scene: I am fussing with lots of decor and cleaning chores in a very large house. A mansion. I take a break, walking on a miles-long trail that often follows busy roads. At one point it seems like I am near Bde Maka Ska. A large lake or an ocean shore. There is a special path for pedestrians that makes crossing in front of vehicles safe. The sides of the roads are wild and full of natural grasses. A pleasant outdoor journey. It feels like the map of the pathway is stored in my mind and I am able to make quick decisions about how I wish to hike it.

The middle of the dream is quite odd. I re-enter a room, perhaps a cottage or shed on the mansion property. My old coworker Charlotte is there, but she is not human. She is a tiny, living thing with no head, no arms, no legs. She is deeply sad. I tell her my story of cleaning and show her some spots that were a lot of hard-scrubbing with a big brush. I am trying to cheer her up, which seems impossible. I keep finding things to do.

The third part of the dream is at dusk. I enter my Grandma Lenora’s mansion, through the open back entryway. I am surprised that the door is unlocked. I walk through a few rooms to greet her. Her personality is different than it was in waking life: she is tall, wealthy and reserved. In charge. Her new incarnation? Her deeper self? I notice that two strangers, a man and a woman, also come in the back door. The white-haired woman is grieving and needing of help. Charlotte again? The short man has jet-black hair. He is working with an organization that is trying to create global dictatorships. One thing I am conscious of during the dream, especially during the walk, is that authoritarianism is on the rise in the outside world. In my dream I use the word “Nazism.” This is disturbing, but at this point of the dream I am also preparing for a beautiful vacation. An inspiring journey by flight. I am beginning to be conscious of a whole new aspect of my life.

Day notes:

The open back door reminds me of the dream I shared with Pat and Bonnie. In that dream, strangers, a man and a woman, enter my front door unannounced.

Charlotte was laid off years ago (we are the same age) and in 2023 and 2024 many more people have been kicked out by my old employer. The new ownership (in Houston) is autocratic, in my opinion. People are making their own decisions to leave, in droves. Maybe my dream of Charlotte is really about Mary. Her job is over next week. In this dream I am lucky to have a wealthy grandmother, although in waking life I am struggling with my reduced income from Social Security. I do not have enough monthly income for vacations.

I worked five hours on a clay project for Wyn yesterday. There were mounds of leftover white clay that remind me of non-human Charlotte. Brain?

Yesterday the doorbell rang. I met a woman who lives on the same street, at 16 East Rustic Lodge. Her husband’s name is Don Luther, and they got some of my mail by accident. I will ask my parents if he could be a relative. One of our neighbors on West Rustic Lodge calls us all “lodgers.”

(Thursday, June 6, 2024) new moon Gemini / tarot Star

Chris and I are standing in our living room. The space is long and narrow. It feels horizontal, dim. I notice that we have forgotten to lock the front door. It opens. A very tall, dark-haired man enters with his smaller female companion. They appear to be early middle-age, attractive and fit. But they say nothing. They each hold one large, wrapped gift box, which feels to me like the potential offering of scam, theft.

Because they do not speak, I panic. Chris and I are able to pull down a large, curved clay door and trap them inside, next to the wall. The stonework’s function is similar to a garage door but it feels ancient, like the rough seal of a cave. I worry these strangers may escape, so we head to our next-door neighbors’ house in order to safely contact the police.

We knock and our neighbor Mike opens his front door. Inside is brightly lit. The living room is enormous, like a conference or party room, full of dozens of students. Celebratory and cheerful. We are welcomed inside. We wander through their house, phone the first responders, then return to our home.

I check the old clay door again. I worry that the edges had been broken off years ago but I see that I have repaired them. There is no way the strangers can escape.

Still waiting for the police, I walk outside to our backyard. I notice the neighbors have turned their yard into a farm field. The crops are just starting to pop up. The fertile black earth is flat, ready to feed a new harvest.

Day notes:

Cullan and Hillary are spending the weekend planning Wyn’s fifth birthday party. Our neighbors are planning for their daughter’s graduation party.

I so often dream of tall, thin men. This one is about seven feet tall. I listened to a podcast interviewing Whitley Strieber. He believes that our suicidal climate change will bring those he calls “visitors” to the forefront of our reality. Soon.

I spent three hours yesterday (as did Cullan, Hillary and my sister Jo) attempting to apply for the Minnesota e-bike rebate. The site kept crashing. At one point I was able to finish the form, which included my social security number, and then it crashed again. Not good.

Dream group, my take on this dream:

“My Living Room is at dusk. True enough at this stage of life. My Guide, who so often enters my dreams (and holds my back), walks in the open door without my permission, as I often feel in my dreams. But he brings a gift. Every dream is a gift. A Visitor stands beside him. Perhaps she is an element of my own being. This time the Guide brings overwhelming information, and my fear of the truthful story makes me want to hide the messengers. I want protection to come from other strong human beings, but that cave door I made myself must open again. The Guides are not imprisoned. Humans imprison themselves. Connection to the earth needs to be deeper. New growth must come from the fertile planet. A new harvest, a new phase of existence is cropping up.“

Bonnie reminded me that I kept saying “first responders.” Pat used the word “earthenware” to describe clay. I like both of those.