TheDreamstersUnion

(Saturday, September 10, 2016) moon first quarter Capricorn / tarot Spider Woman (Wheel of Fortune) reversed

Fragment 1: Chris and I are moving out of a mobile home. We need Cullan’s help, but he is finishing up his own project and has yet to arrive. I am packing clothes and bedclothes. Our cotton duvet cover looks very much like the one I bought at West Elm this spring. I undo safety pins that secure the “hospital corners” (something my grandmother taught me about bed-making as a child). I roll the duvet cover and our clothing around a large wooden pole.

Fragment 2: I am with Cyndi at her oversized RV. It is at least 20 feet tall and 80 feet long. The interior is empty. She has neglected to tell me that King Kong is on his way for one of his periodic visits. I find out and I am terrified. There is no place to hide, nothing to grab onto that would assist climbing a wall to get away from the giant gorilla. Cyndi sits on a chair outside the RV, playing with her iPad. Unconcerned.

Day notes:

There is a theme of homes on wheels, the soul train. Leaving. Chris was playing John Prine’s Pandora channel this morning and together we sang Arlo Guthrie’s version of “I’m the train they call the City of New Orleans.”

I listened to a webinar today by Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche called “Living with Joy, Dying in Peace.” Part 1 of a six-month presentation. He talked several times about his teacher in France who is “packed and ready to go.” He used the word “packed” over and over to describe being ready to die. He finished the talk with a very powerful meditation that brought back the memory of my birth-stroke, opening up sensations of the lifelong struggle with the damaged left side of my body. It made me consider how to let go and accept the power of my left hemisphere and the weakness of my right. When I work in clay I use both hands, but primarily my left. When I draw or paint I use my right hand. I thought of Pat and wondered what he has been experiencing.

Gorilla in the room. Death. Hospital corners. Safety unpinned. The clothing rolled around the wooden pole reminds me of the solar shade that saved Chris from being cut when he broke the window during his fall on Tuesday.

Chris was runover by a train when he was 19. His first NDE.

(Saturday, September 10, 2016)

1: Yesterday I got a Facebook friend request (proposal) from a man named Michael Spinner. He is not friends with anyone I know, we have no links I can identify. When I go to his page I am not able to view anything about him except his photo. He wears a white leather mountain-man hat with silver decorations. He has silver hair. I think of my recent dream where a silver-haired mountain-man proposes to me. Even more amusing is the fact that the Facebook page never connects fully, it spins and spins. Michael Spinner.

2: Yesterday I told Chris about my Jacob Wetterling dream. He did not seem surprised. He said, “The aliens find people like you. They mean you no harm. They always know where you are.” This from a man who never believed in UFOs, much less encounters of the third kind.

(Wednesday, September 7, 2016)

I am at a large retreat center with coworkers. The property slopes into a long oval lake or pond. The atmosphere is foggy and grey. Every bit of the soil is covered by brilliant green turf, like a golf course. (Just as in waking life, this is very upsetting to me. I have seen shocking maps of the Gulf of Mexico dead zone, which is caused by fertilizer and chemicals flowing in from the Mississippi River. When I drive through my newly-gentrified neighborhood, the perfect, weedless green lawns make me heart-sick, even angry. I am just fine with dandelions and creeping charlie.)

Everyone in the dream is working an app on their cell phones, me included. In one scene, Cullan and I are sitting in the back seat of a car (am I a child too?) and he demonstrates the functions of the app to me. Presumably Pokemon. I hold my phone in my left hand and a young boy’s sandal in my right. Even the sandal is running the Pokemon app on its sole (soul).

In another scene of the dream I am sitting in a room with my coworker Michelle as she trains her new hire. (In waking life, as in the dream, Michelle is morbidly obese. She has a kind, generous temperament, but it is obvious that the stresses of her job as Director of Communications are causing physical damage and great danger.)

I decide I have had enough. I cannot live in this culture any longer, with its toxic, fake green grass and its destructive work demands. I grab a bag of bread slices that others intend to put in the garbage, but I plan to salvage and feed to the birds. I head out the door. A shadow anxiety arises and I am afraid to scatter the bread crumbs till I have walked far away from the “monoculture” (fields without wildness).

Day notes:

As I age I feel more and more at home with spiritually-focused people and ideas. Less so with the capitalist, patriarchal, material world. I don’t even feel comfortable calling that world “real” any longer.

There is a Pokemon spot across the street from our house, at the edge of Circle Park. When we moved into the house 18 years ago, we found a young boy’s sandal. It still hangs in the garage on a nail.