TheDreamstersUnion

(Friday, July 27, 2018) blood moon eclipse Aquarius / tarot four of wands

I have a quick, dissolving memory (dream) upon awakening that deepens over the course of the day.

I move along a hallway in a bustling building, perhaps a hotel or a hospital. I am interacting rapidly but peacefully with many individuals. The corridor is the entry point for souls who have just died, who have left the three dimensional realm. I am here to assist people with their transitions, as are the multitude of other entities in the busy space. We work together in this guiding process. The mood and the environment feel normal. Not frightening or dark. The lighting, in fact, is sunny and colorful. Every soul has passed through this place a thousand times or more, so there is nothing stark or cataclysmic about it. There are tasks to complete, that’s all.

I have a sense that when I finish my final incarnation on earth, this is where I will be fulfilling my mission. A physician in the ER, so to speak. This doesn’t feel like a dream.

(Thursday, August 2, 2018)

A few days later I have two related dreams.

In the first, I am with my male spirit guide. Bodhisattva? We are in a passenger plane that crashes into the ocean, near the shore. My guide and I observe dozens of boats rushing to the crash site. To the rescue. I don’t know if they save lives or retrieve bodies. I have a dream (within the dream) about the experience and my guide tells me that some dreams are memories. Past life memories, Sabine would say.

In the second dream I am again with my guide. I look inside of a new shed on my property. I discover a tool and as I hold it in my hands, memories of a past life enter my thoughts. My guide points out that poignant physical elements can trigger past life immersions.

(Friday, July 20, 2018) moon waxing gibbous Scorpio / tarot High Priestess

I awaken with the recall of three dreams that have the same level of detail and appear to last an equal amount of time. I don’t remember the order. It’s possible they are simultaneous. They have identical value, emphasis.

Dream of black water:

I stand on the shore of a lake charged with dangerous, turbulent waves. The water is black and holds shimmering, star-like lights. These tiny twinkles flow and bob with the churning, stormy current. The sky is dark as night. This ominous atmosphere could be from the power of the weather, not from the time of day. I watch dozens of men scrambling on boats, struggling to keep them safely afloat. They are heading to the middle of the lake.

Dream of aunt Mary:

I dream of a small square building that is the same size and style as the old wash-house that existed on my grandmother’s farm. The interior shed walls are raw wood siding. No fancy plaster or drywall, and the floors are wood planks too. The space is packed with trinkets left from my aunt Mary’s lifetime of collecting simple, utilitarian items. Nothing has much value. Nothing would show up on Antiques Roadshow.

My cousins Pat and Tim Murphy (her sons) are in the storage shed with me. I am wondering where the nice old print Mary had promised me is located. My cousins don’t know where it is, or are unwilling to let me have it. It was originally owned by my wealthy great aunt Olivia (my grandmother’s sister).

Dream of the greenhouse cage:

I am in a crowded office with my coworkers. The atmosphere is chaotic. Louis (the Creative Director) pulls me aside. We walk outdoors. He has designed a new workspace just for me, adjacent to the back wall of the office building. He is very excited about it. The introvert in me appreciates this new level of privacy. It is a large area, maybe 20 feet by 20 feet. There is no floor. My desk sits upon the lush, green lawn. The walls and ceiling are constructed of thick black iron piping, as would have been used in a playground swing set from my childhood. It feels like a metal greenhouse but there is no glass sheathing. The piping rests on a foundation of very old, rotting landscape timbers.

Day notes:

Black water: a news story on Friday was about the 17 people killed in a storm on a lake in Branson, Missouri.

I looked at Chris’ MRCP results on My Chart. Many tiny “stars” showed up in his kidneys. The doctor wrote that it was probably a result of longterm lithium use. It could also be small tumors. His abdominal aorta was expanded to 3.9 cm. Normal is 2 cm. Doctors become concerned when the numbers are above 5.5 cm, but since he nearly died from an upper aortic dissection in 2011, I wonder why they are unconcerned. Below 5 cm they call it dilation, above 5 cm they call it aneurysm. 

Aunt Mary: my second recent Mary dream. Today is the Feast of Mary Magdalene. My cousins Pat and Tim never handed over the print Mary promised me. I sent Pat J. an email three days ago asking about the money he owes me from Victoria’s workshop in April. No reply.

Greenhouse: 

I immediately thought of a work cage when I woke up from this dream. Prison.

 

(Saturday, July 14, 2018) waxing crescent moon Leo, one day after new moon partial solar eclipse in Cancer opposing Pluto / tarot two of pentacles

I had my eye surgery on Thursday and today I am completely exhausted. My kiln ran all night and that did not help. I burned my left index finger at 3 a.m. when I removed a 1700 degree kiln plug with my bare hands. Stupid. But the erratic night opened up interesting dreams.

Dream 1:

I am with my coworkers in an office that feels like a warehouse district loft. The floors are old hardwood and so are the rafters. The rooms are unusually formed. Open. They flow into each other and into other levels. Some have low ceilings. Some have high ceilings. There is virtually no furniture. No desks, chairs, tables. Few computers. The lighting is muted. The walls are sandstone brick.

I recognize Bill, Cyndi, Rick and Louis. Also David, our new VP of Marketing. David feels very distant. Bill, one of our web designers, walks up to me with a laptop and shows me a file. It is completely empty, containing no imagery, no text, no coding. We scroll together through multiple files and all are the same: empty, devoid of work. There is nothing for any of us to do. The group commiserates about their loss of employment and responsibility, but I leave on my own, out a door and onto the street.

Dream 2:

I am in my backyard with beings that I am in deep relationship with. I don’t recognize them as any of my waking life friends.

The yard is rectangular, not the piece-of-pie shape it is in real life. This geometry came up in my recent dream of the white Sedona vortex. The rectangle is proportionate to two stacked squares, and it flows vertically to the western horizon.

Everything is lush and green. My soil is wildly sprouted with grasses, shrubs, flowers and healthy trees filled with singing birds. The land rolls a bit; it is not flat. I sense that clear springs flow beneath the property, rising up from many miles below. The water is pure, holy, healing. We are working to bring it to the surface and create a beautiful Garden of Eden with streams, pools and fountains. Heaven on earth. I think this is interesting because an astrological formation during the Thursday/Friday eclipse was a Star of David: a trine in earth signs and a trine in water signs. Merkaba. Heart chakra.