(Friday, August 25, 2023) first quarter moon Sagittarius / tarot 8 of swords
A long dream. It starts in a large, one-story business building full of people. I sit in a small office right next to the entry/exit glass doors. Cullan has communicated a design task to me, and I work on the desktop computer. I am supposed to combine multiple decorative icons into a banner, but the plastic banner material is missing so I cannot print it out. I try to find Cullan to get his advice for moving forward, but he is “out of office.” A worker I don’t know casually tells me someone else has taken care of the project. I feel unwanted. Sadly, I leave.
The scene shifts to a square, elementary-style classroom. I don’t see the teacher, but I sense he is standing at the front of the rows of desks, near the old chalkboard. I am looking at a rectangular, white audio device laying on the floor. I hear my former coworker Casey talking out of the plastic box, and I kneel next to the speakers. I am very excited. I exclaim: “Casey! It is so good to hear your voice. I miss you!” He must not care about me, because he hangs up, like a negative phone call. Again I feel disrespected and deeply unhappy. Heartbroken.
I move on outdoors and connect with my old friends Bev and Don, who in waking life live near me on Wentworth Avenue. I have known them since before Cullan was born. Bev and I worked at one of my first design jobs, the co-op we called WordWeavers. That is the name I came up with.
We wander and wander together on a country road along beautiful green hills. Don is busier than Bev and I. He moves in and out of different big red barns, doing animal farm-work. I walk inside of a few. Watching his chores means a lot. It teaches me. His is dark-haired and tall. Perhaps he is my frequent dream guide.
Eventually he transitions to his real-life construction job, at which he has excelled for decades. He is designing and building charming, two-story wooden farm-style houses. Some are bright red, some are grass-green. All have white trim. They completely inspire me. Colorful, brand-new. Made with compassionate attention and tremendous skill. They are creating an emotionally connected new neighborhood on the right side of the road.
Day notes:
Of course much of this dream is reflective of the past eight months of my life, “forced retirement.” There is a new beginning. My next clay project is three houses. I have been waiting but can probably start it next week.
The classroom section might be about the required duties I have had to fulfill to qualify for Unemployment Insurance. After one of the classes (“job club”) the instructor admitted there are very few graphic design jobs out there.
Cullan being “out of office” might be because he is a remote worker.
This dream makes me feel I should contact Bev. I haven’t seen her in three years. She retired last year.
Some of this dream seems to answer my incubation question, although I haven’t officially asked it yet.
Glassdoor is the website recommended for reviews of potential employers.
September 13 (prescient?): Today I walked past Bev and Don’s house and it had a for sale sign in the front yard that said “pending.” Interesting that I would dream of them when I haven’t seen Bev in three years. So I texted her today and we plan to go for a walk soon. They have a lake home but also moved to a high-rise apartment one block from my first design job in Saint Anthony West.
