TheDreamstersUnion

(Wednesday, September 7, 2016) moon waxing crescent Scorpio / tarot Queen of Wands

It is twilight dreamtime. I sit in a small room or building, across from Jacob Wetterling. Between us is the old round walnut table from Denmark that is stored in my garden shed. We may, in fact, be seated in the shed. He is 11, the age he was when he was sexually assaulted, then murdered.

Jacob hangs his head in great sorrow and slowly tells me the entire story of his abduction. I reach my hands across the table but cannot quite make physical contact. I listen with the fullest heart.

Day notes:

Yesterday Jacob’s murderer finally confessed. So many hearts feel broken. Even the national media made this their lead story. I awoke from this dream feeling very blessed by Jacob’s visitation. Holding some of his grief in my living body. Now his spirit is free to move on.

I went into our shed yesterday to get Chris’ wheelchair. The walnut table (from Chris’ Danish father and mother) seemed to seek my attention. Wetterling is a Swedish and Danish surname, according to the web.

In the dream of my grandmother’s funeral some time back, we all sat at round tables. Dream dictionaries say round tables are about relationship, reaching out. Some say they represent heaven.

 

(Friday, September 2, 2016) new moon Virgo / tarot: crone of blades reversed

Long dream with beautiful art images. Vivid, maybe lucid in some respects. Does not feel like a dream.

I am visiting Bonnie and Paul up north, but we are at Jeanne’s house, which is under construction. Bonnie and Paul are the architects and contractors for the project.

The order of the dream has dissolved, and does not seem particularly important.

In one scene, I sit in the middle of a large king-sized bed, on white sheets. I am naked, folding my arms protectively around my breasts. The room has open, two-by-four walls: drywall has yet to be applied. Although my body is quite slender and fit, I feel slightly exposed. In one version of the dream, I put on my magenta yoga top. In another version, I put on my short, red-flannel nightgown.

In a second scene, Bonnie and I admire artwork created by Jeanne’s daughter. One edge of the room, connected to the center of the house, has a wide, roughed-in wooden arch. We stand perpendicular to the arch, near two outer walls with large windows. Below the windows are numerous, expensive flat-file art cabinets, filled with drawings and paintings by Jeanne’s daughter. Gouache paintings on large sheets of watercolor paper are strewn on top of the cabinets. I leaf through them. I am impressed, less so by the quality than the overwhelming quantity. The skill level is that of a gifted middle-school girl, still under development. But the astonishing quantity of work demonstrates deep, profound commitment. She will succeed. There is no doubt.

In another scene, Bonnie introduces me to a man, perhaps a relative, that she has invited up to keep me company, or maybe to help heal my masculine side. He and I enjoy spending time together but we are both married. So I hesitate to become too attached to him, even though I am relaxed and happy in his presence. He is athletic, handsome and warm. Calm and funny. His feminine side is evolved — he is very balanced.

Day notes:

On Sunday I am heading up north to the house Bonnie and Paul built in Walker. Yay!

Jeanne’s house. Wooden arch. Jeanne d’Arc. Jeanne/Joan of Arc was both warrior and martyr/victim. Last night (before making this verbal connection) I looked up the miracles the Catholic church accepted to canonize Joan. What is the implication of having a “saint” as a past life? Too overwhelming to even consider.

The solar eclipse yesterday was promoted by astrologers as being a difficult one. Suddenly, life at work is getting complex again. On Thursday (her birthday), Cyndi found out her beloved cat Lucky had cancer and had to be put down. The same day, she was told she needed immediate surgery, so her operation is scheduled for Tuesday. The surgeons will be threading through her sternum to repair vertebrae which are compressing from radiation treatments, threatening serious nerve damage. Akina, another coworker (in China), is on indefinite medical leave. Early in the week, my boss Louis told me we would be hiring more designers soon. Because I have done such a good job mentoring Alysia in Phoenix, he asked if I wanted to move into management. I don’t. Yet I don’t want to be managed, either.

Neptune was in opposition in Pisces for this eclipse, therefore powerful dreams, perhaps of past lives, have been suggested.

I think Jeanne’s daughter in the dream represents my path as a ceramic artist. A long learning curve, still much progress to be made. Perhaps I am midway to mastery. But I am committed. Jeanne Peppel’s daughter has a doctorate.

I do have a large king-sized bed with white sheets. Chris calls it The Veranda. King beds are perfectly square. North = white in the medicine wheel and in alchemy.

Bare wood. Bare naked. Exposing my core. Interesting that the dream architects (Bonnie and Paul) are so prominant. Not just a hidden assumption. Active, visible.

 

(Saturday, August 27, 2016) moon: waning crescent Cancer / tarot: seven of swords reversed

I am at my grandmother’s farm near Wabasha. The house is designed like an Italian palazzo, not a midwestern farmhouse. The floor plan is perfectly square: two stories with very high ceilings and a flat roof.

My sisters and I are asleep in the upper level. Our beds are situated in a corner of the large open room that has no interior walls. I awake, sit up in bed and notice the brilliantly shiny, golden wooden floor. It looks like the surface of a ballroom, a dance hall. There is a dark seam that runs through the middle of the room. The wood has begun to split at this seam (perpendicular to the grooved slats) and each side of the floor is gently angled, starting to fall away from the center. I get out of bed, kneel and press my hands firmly along one edge of the fault line, excited at the idea of the house breaking in half and toppling. But the floor and the entire structure are still very solid.

I head outside. My coworker Angela is present in her director role, here to protect. Guardian angel. Taller than I, boisterous and joyful.

It is morning, time for me to get dressed for the day and I do so out of doors, in front of many other souls who are doing the same. I have chosen an outfit I would not normally wear, a black-and-white-striped Italian or French style long-sleeved tunic with black sweats. Like the gear of a mime or beatnik or artist. In the dream I wonder about this choice. Am I in Italy? Amatrice?

Day notes:

People are living outdoors after the devastating quake in Italy. There was a 6.8 quake in Myanmar as well that killed 4 and damaged 200 temples.

Angela S. has appeared in my dreams before. Her title at work is Channel Marketing Director. She does have an extroverted, happy disposition. I think the dream character, though, is one of my spirit guides. I am quite sure I heard her beautiful voice a year ago during the last meditation we had at Peace Valley, Arkansas.

Why am I so happy about the the fault line? The family split? The eventual outcome has presented itself but is many years, perhaps centuries, away. My parents’ 60th wedding anniversary is in October.

Yesterday was the second anniversary of Kay’s passing. It was a frightening day. Chris’ skin looked grey and his breathing was extremely labored, shallow. He took a short, loud, small breath every two or three seconds. He slept till 9:30 in the morning and went to bed at 7. I wanted him to go to the doctor but he said he was fine. I thought he seemed better today but he says he has aching in his back, and he is still having trouble breathing. I suspect his heart, that his atrial fibrillation is acting up.