TheDreamstersUnion

(Wednesday, April 13, 2016) moon: 1st quarter Leo / tarot: three of pentacles

Wednesday morning I drew a card from my round tarot deck, the three of pentacles. The background image is the Andes mountains. A woman wearing an Inca-style alpaca cap builds coil pots and fires them in an outdoor mud kiln while her little papoose observes.

Along my daily river walk there stands a tall, dead cottonwood tree where eagles often perch. Yesterday (Wednesday) as I neared the white bones of the tree, an eagle flapped his wings and landed on the very tip of the uppermost limb. I had been watching him soar with his mate. A third eagle was following the pair and I wondered if it was their yearling.

I was astounded and ecstatic when the second eagle joined her mate on the pale treetop. They both began to chortle and call and whistle loudly together. Their wonderful song went on for several minutes. I couldn’t believe my luck. No other human was around to experience this beautiful, joyful event.

I once took a silly online quiz: “What is your spirit animal?” Condor is what came up for me, and the website said the North American equivalent of the Andean condor is the eagle. When I checked my email yesterday evening, I had received a link to a lovely video by Alberto Villoldo, founder of the Four Winds Society in Chile. The logo for the Four Winds is a condor with outstretched wings.

http://www.labyrinthina.com/prophecy-the-eagle-and-the-condor.html

 

 

 

 

(Good Friday, March 25, 2016) moon: waning Scorpio / tarot: six of wands

I live in a row-house that faces a large cobblestone square. The square is surrounded on all four sides by nearly identical old row-houses. It feels like Europe.

The light inside and outside of my home is distinctively dim: twilight, with no artificial luminosity. I am reminded of a dream I had of my sister-in-law Kathy where my soul seems to be the only source of illumination (sole/soul source). Or perhaps the light is coming from my eyes. All is clear and colorful at the focal point of my vision, but surrounded by grey or fog or possibly lack of physical structure.

Even so, there is energetic activity in the square. Hundreds of people have gathered to take trips on mystery tour buses. Dozens of buses are parked haphazardly along the edge of the square, and the tourists are enjoying roaming from bus to bus, interviewing the drivers and other passengers, making decisions about which tour they wish to join. The tours are guided by physicists, artists, writers and other people of elevated talent and great insight.

I am wandering about the square. I have narrowed my choice to two very famous tour guides. One guide is a brilliant man I have known for awhile. Mathematician? Barrister? Not an artist. He is extremely tall, slender, dark and handsome. We are falling in love. We stroll together back to my row-house.

Once inside, he puts his right hand around my waist and pulls me close to him. I feel deep comfort and peace in his arms. I turn to face him and we share a gentle kiss. As we begin to kiss more passionately, I notice that Chris is standing in the room, at my right, watching us.

I pull away, distraught. I fear that Chris will attack. But he responds in a calm and generous way. He is leaving me, and he is grateful that I will not be alone, that I have a loving and respectful new partner. Even in the dream, this feels like an omen.

It is time for my partner to leave as well, to start leading his tour. I decide to not be a distraction to my new lover and to not be distracted by love. I decide to take the alternate tour, which is guided by a gentleman even more evolved than Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome. I twist my way through the celebratory crowd and climb onto my chosen bus.

My only memory of the tour is of a house full of beautiful cloisonné artwork and furniture. Two rather stern women docents present the highly unusual collection. Normally in cloisonné the colored enamel is bordered by tightly controlled golden wires. But in these pieces the enamel and glass spill out of the metal frames in a free and painterly fashion. Like works by Monet.

Day notes:

I had this dream in the early morning, then fell back to sleep. So the intensity has softened. The strongest images were the light itself, Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome, Chris’ supportive presence, and the Impressionist cloisonné.

British mystery tours are short bus trips where the destinations are unknown to the passengers.

(Thursday, March 24, 2016) moon: full in Libra (lunar eclipse yesterday) / tarot: seven of wands

I arrive at the IASD conference registration desk in Kerkrade, Netherlands. The desk is set up outdoors, overlooking an ocean harbor, and is made of four long tables that form a square.

One of the IASD members working behind the desk, inside the square, hands me a schedule. I look through the pages and am upset to discover that I am committed to work as an AV volunteer for many hours each day, so many hours that there is little time left over to attend the conference workshops and presentations. I hand the paperwork back to the registration worker, explaining to him that I did not sign up as a volunteer this time. He insists that I must work. If I do not, it will affect many sessions of the conference, because this year there is a shortage of volunteers. He even calls Richard Wilkerson over to confirm the story.

The dream is much longer, but the rest has faded from my memory.

Day notes:

Yesterday I sent Sem in Amersfoort an email about the terror attacks in Brussels. Brussels is just two hours from Amsterdam. I told him I was sorry that travel, which is a huge part of his job, has become so dangerous in northern Europe.

Of course this dream reflects how relentlessly busy I am at my job. No time for those things that I find personally fulfilling. Too distracted even to dream.

Monday Chris turned on his computer so we could watch a DVD. For some reason, the computer launched his screen saver, which ran through the photos Bonnie took at Rolduc Abbey in 2011. Kind of odd.