TheDreamstersUnion

Two nights ago I have a strange, psychedelic dream. No linear plot. I am floating in an ocean of vividly colorful cartoon-like heads. Not human. Not animal. Devic? They are all smiling in a slightly devious fashion. Not purely joyful. Smirky. Brilliant. The wisdom of clowns.

As I begin to write this, a bluebird lands on a branch of the red birch outside my window.

Bonnie and I attended Victoria’s morning dream group at the IASD conference last week. On the first day, I shared the Black Wolf dream I had in Glastonbury. The next day, another woman shared a wolf dream. And the next day, a third wolf dream arose. Then I had this short dream, which I also shared:

I am with my Black Wolf. I stroke his beautiful, pearly teeth. White fangs. We are in love.

I worked this dream sequence throughout the conference. A tarot technique taught by a woman named Athena was especially helpful. The cards I pulled for that reading were the Sun, Lovers, Heirophant and Hanged Man. The deck I chose was The Enchanted Tarot. In Victoria’s group, I connected my first dream to the Strength card, where the maiden gently opens the jaws of the lion. Athena said the lion’s jaws are the opening to the rabbit hole. The Hanged Man is that psychedelic rabbit hole experience. My time in Glastonbury was the most shamanic of my life. It seems a confirmation of this happened when I entered the Anaheim hotel elevator (going down!) with the famous Stanley Krippner, whose lecture on shamanism I attended. Stanley told me my dress was beautiful and “ethnic.”

07.03.2017: A video appears on my YouTube app about a black wolf named Romeo. He lived in Juneau, Alaska and loved to play with the local dogs. He even had his own toys that he would bring to the park. I feel like my second dream, perhaps even my first, was about Romeo. Is he my spirit guide?

(Tuesday, June 13, 2017) moon waning gibbous Aquarius / tarot six of pentacles

I am standing in an upper story of an office tower. It must be a huge metropolis like New York or London because I am on the 200th floor. The room lighting is dim. There is a rectangular bar full of men who are drinking following an all-day sales meeting. They are my coworkers but I do not work in their department. I am not in sales.

I know, and the men know, that an explosive attack on the tower is imminent. Most of them leave in a kind of organized panic, but a few remain seated at the bar with grim expressions on their faces. They are making sure I depart safely. One man is willing to risk his own life.

I am struggling to capture Lola in a small cardboard box. She uses all of her feral cat power in an attempt to fight her way out of the box. I push hard to close the four top sections over her wild head, then lift the box up to my forehead, pressing with my third eye to keep the top sealed. I dash out of the room toward the stairs, holding the cat container in this odd posture, hoping the last few men escape now too. And that I can keep Lola secured in the box.

Day notes:

An element of this dream reminds me of my struggle to ship my clay piece Edie to the dream art show. I took her to FedEx to have them create a custom box. So far it has cost $280 and I worry. I pray she will arrive unharmed.

Perhaps the Anaheim hotel is a tower. I don’t know.

Keeping Lola inside of her cat box is a lifelong struggle. She prefers to pee on top of four rubber-backed rugs I have had to put behind the television. Sigh. I should try working with an animal intuitive, perhaps. I think Chris’ wheelchair pisses her off.

06.14.2017: Devastating fire in a London high rise today.