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11/26/24 Deb Had a Miscarriage

Deb had a miscarriage. She is with a group. We are to do a ritual. Earlier, someone from the group put the fetus in a bag along with the ritual objects. I remember a large, metal mask and some flat rocks. Deb is to sleep under these three, large trees. She has done this before. The group and I will bring a bed from the house for her. In the past, there had been a bed under the trees. Deb does not tell me about the miscarriage, but I guessed that it happened. I tell her that it is good to grieve, even thought having a baby at her age would be difficult.

I worked this dream with Kathleen and Shaney on 12/6/24. I became Deb. I am in shock and out of my body. There are five women around me. They help me outside. A bed is brought from the house and put under these three, large, old trees. I am laid down on the bed and a cover is put over me. I am in a simple, off-white gown. It looks old, like from the middle ages. The women create a half circle on the opposite side from the three trees. The middle woman holds up the mask that has a masculine face. It is for protection on that side of the circle. The trees are the protection on the other side. The women then, one at a time, put the flat, warm rocks on my body-legs, torso, arms and forehead. These help me ground and get back into my body. The emotions comes up and I cry. It is a blessed release. The baby is laid on my stomach. I hold and kiss the baby goodbye. The other women put a hand on the baby. Then I put the baby back in the bag. I get up. The bed is removed and a small hole is dug where the bed was. I lay the baby in the hole. I put a red rose on the body. The other women take turns and put a flower on the body as well. I shovel some dirt on the baby. The other women take turns and shovel dirt on the baby as well. The baby is now under the protection of the trees.

Five years ago, Deb had laid under the trees. Rowan was born five years ago and that is when the “abuse” started with Kevin and Antonia. Losing Kevin feels like losing Conor (still born) 36 years ago.This was a healing experience. This ritual is helping me to move on and start living my life again.

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11/25/24 Two Dreams: 1. Paul Dies 2. Wanting to Impress a Woman

  1. In the middle of the night I had the dream where Paul dies but do not remember any details.

  2. I am new in town. I want to impress/get in with this group of people who are intelligent. One woman stands out. She has written a poem and sends it to the group to be published. I go to where the group is meeting. There are about eight people in the group. I stand at the door and listen in. A member of the group notices me and asks me to leave.

The woman poet is emotional about something and I hold space for her.

I am now at an elementary school. A little girl who is dressed up in a costume falls down outside in this wet sand and gets her face covered with it. School has just been let out and all the kids are on the way to their buses. I go inside a house where the man and the woman live. I ask for a cloth to wipe the girl’s face. I tell the woman what happened. With a purple marker, she writes Get Well. (I also had started to write Get Well). The paper had an impression of the mansion the man and woman live in.

I go outside, find the bus the girl is on and wipe her face, soothing her. I then ask the woman bus driver to let me off. Later, I am on a bus with a couple who know about me. They are rude, especially the guy who is a middle-aged, overweight person.

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Dreaming About Dreaming, Cartoons And Clay

(Saturday, November 30, 2024) new moon Sagittarius / tarot Death

In my dream I wake up from sleep, but dreaming continues: I am walking along the edge of a river to my right, a scene from a dream I had years ago about the Virginia Beach IASD conference. That dream has moved behind me. It is in my past. I enter a large “building” that has elements of nature. In some areas, the floor is earth and grass. It is dim, evening light.

There are lots of people working on creative tasks. I used to be an employee, but now I am just a helper. There is a stone wall above a fireplace on which I carve a simple piece of artwork. Later it is covered in clear glass.

I am getting ready to go. People do move in and out, like an eight-hour shift. In my third-eye I see art elements made of paper and bright paint: rooms deep, deep in the underground. Cartoony characters are hiding there. The art rooms look very much like the dream-castle I made out of cardboard, but they are truly many feet below the surface. The cartoons represent people who feel they need protection.

We workers move around and chat here and there. People know that I am getting ready to leave. I have two big plastic deli containers, full of delicious food. One is a wonderful, colorful salad, the other is a mix of nuts and spices. I am trying to find some sturdy, decorative ceramic bowls, like the ones my family and I have from the old Red Wing Pottery, and it takes a while. As I am searching, a hefty, smiley woman comes in a door to tell me she is getting a “fire document” ready for me. Protective, legal paperwork in case of a blaze, but I make a joke about “getting fired.”

Finally I find the two clay bowls I need for my offering of food. I place them on a very long wooden dining table, filling them with tasty veggies and nuts, then head out to a hallway. There is an open door on the right side, and I enter it to talk to the woman with my paperwork.

Day notes:

It was seven degrees this morning. I just noticed that the long fireplace crack that I fixed with putty and paint last month came back. So I filled it again, this time with caulk, and will repaint it tomorrow.

Even though we are all working in a huge, single story building, the dream feels like we are outside. Nature. The space goes on for miles. This dream seems to be a reminder of my dinner with former coworkers on Friday. In the summer we eat outside at Sea Salt. My former employer is a global company. I would always walk along the Minnesota River on my lunch breaks.

As a child, when we were on our way to the southeast corner of Minnesota (near Rochester), we would sometimes stop at Red Wing Pottery. On Thursday I brought two handmade clay bowls with cranberry-orange sauce and herb-nuts to our Thanksgiving dinner.

I am starting to have dreams about creative work. My goal for the future. I wonder if the cartoon characters are symbolic of my anxiety about my upcoming diagnosis? Unconscious, underground. Is fire a symbol too? Or is it about firing my clay? I feel safer having my pieces fired by female professionals instead of at home. I need to fill out legal documents every time I ask them to fire for me. Fired ceramics are stone, surface glaze is glass.

I woke up at 4 am and was thinking about some members of the IASD I met years ago. Then I fell back to sleep and had this dream. I am no longer a member, so the IASD is behind me.

Monday, December 9: I am considering taking a Zoom class with the Jung Archademy. The female instructor has a PhD in psychology and is a ceramic artist. I just finished combining my three bits of fired clay into a single piece of ceramic wall art.
https://www.chantalpowell.com/works-1

I had a small salad at my former coworker event on Friday. And I am going to buy a fancy salad from Wise Acre for Christmas Eve. My friends talked a lot about getting fired, as they worry about it every day.

This dream was shared with our dream group and I wrote this after working on it together: My dream begins and ends with past and powerful dreams I have not forgotten. Even though most of the people on the planet, as Toko-pa says, dismiss dreams, I never do. It’s time to move on and spend less focus on the physical realm. The imaginal realm is the journey of elders. The journey that leads us to the divine. As we pass on, we lose our memories of previous lives, just as we often lose memories of our dreams. But dreams provide us with infinite recalls of our past, and visions of our future. The open doors. Let go of fear, the underground cartoons. Elevate and fly.

The Dreamsters Union