TheDreamstersUnion

(Sunday, January 4, 2015) Full moon in Cancer / Tarot: six of wands

I am with many people in a large conference center. I have brought my child to the center for some kind of training or event that is being taught by a very tall man. His height varies: from a distance he appears to be seven and even eight feet tall. But when he is close enough to speak and interact with parents and children he seems to be just a few inches above six feet. He is slender and blonde.

It’s a sunny, joyful gathering. The teacher has a deep love for children and so the parents are grateful for his generous, angelic spirit.

I wander about, watching the children at play. There is a moment when the teacher takes a break from his duties and lies down with me on a soft, white, cloud-like bed which is very low to the ground. He embraces me with tremendous warmth and compassion, kissing me gently on my cheek. I am overwhelmed and surprised. Protected and loved. I consider giving him a kiss in return but I don’t understand the nature of his kiss. Instead we lie face-to-face, eyes closed, touching foreheads in a sweet embrace.

He returns to the children and I wander the upper halls of the hotel, which is part of the center. I am picking out my bedroom. I wonder if the teacher will join me later. I open the doors of each beautiful room. The doors are carved, golden wood and the interiors are clothed in royal red velvet. Many of the rooms are already occupied. The dream ends before I find a room for myself.

Day notes:

I saw a painting of a saint at the Chicago Art Institute that looked like my T’ai-Chi teacher. With a shock I realized that Rob is a very saintlike presence in my life and in the lives of many others. I felt even more regretful of my “hissy-fit” a few weeks ago at class. Maybe learning T’ai-Chi from a more flawed teacher would be easier for me.

(Sunday, January 4, 2014)

Dream 1 is a waking dream: The week after I throw a big hissy-fit (Bonnie’s word!) at T’ai-Chi I end up being the only student in class. I still feel ashamed and uncomfortable with Rob. I want to stand at the very back of the huge room but there is a distinctive presence in the middle of the space which will not allow me to back up any further. Whenever I get close to the presence/energy, I feel like I am bumping into a big, soft wall that reaches floor-to-ceiling and across the width of the room. My vision “whites out” and my hearing dims until I move forward, closer to Rob. The experience is so palpable and strange I consider asking him about it.

Dream 2: I go to bed after my friend Anne’s New Year’s Eve party. I am staying in her guest room at the back of her 1890s era Highland Park mansion. The room is in a dark corridor next to a steep old staircase that goes all the way to the basement. I have a brief dream of many spirits moving happily up the stairs to greet me. It has been years since there has been anyone in the house that could “see” them. To me, they don’t seem as though they are from the past. They seem more like Anne’s intelligent and warm friends from the party. One looks exactly like Anne’s kind dark-haired friend named Lynne. But they are, in fact, the former (and present!) residents of the house.

Dream 3: I have a chaotic dream the night before I leave Chicago (Saturday morning). All of the house spirits are in my room. There is much dream activity that I have forgotten. My main memory is of the spirit that looks like Lynne sitting close to me on the bed, on my left side. She holds my hands and our fingers are tightly entwined, as if in prayer. Strong jolts of electricity are shaking my body. It’s the same kind of electricity I sometimes experience as I fall asleep. Lynne feels very real, not at all like a spook.

(Thursday, December 18, 2014) Moon: waning crescent in Scorpio / Tarot: eight of swords

Chris and I are living in the end unit of a one-story motel, next to the office. I walk down the cement sidewalk and look into the open door of our apartment. There is a comfy earth-colored canvas sofa against the back wall piled with fringed, ochre-colored pillows.

We have outgrown this small place. I decide to begin our search for a new home. Suddenly I am flying alone through a grey, empty field. I don’t know which direction is up, which direction is down. I don’t know if I have flown a few hundred feet, or a few million light years. The physical disorientation fills my stomach with heaviness and a bit of fear.

I make a conscious effort to channel my anxiety and the grey gives way to a clear blue sky. I look down to see a new neighborhood under construction in a countryside with rolling hills but no trees. The roads are plowed, red earth. The homes are handsome and of a generous size, but it doesn’t feel like the right place for me, for us, to settle. Too conventional.

I turn back, eventually landing on the main street of an old Victorian-style town full of brick buildings with fanciful decorations. The streets are of freshly turned red earth, soft underfoot. Aromatic.

My daughter walks up to tell me she has put an egg-roll in the oven and it will be ready in 30 minutes.

I continue to explore the town, coming upon a fantastic street of giant, painted metal sculptures several stories tall. They are delightfully playful and eccentric. Like Dr. Seuss.

Day notes:

Bun in the oven? Someone is pregnant, due in 6 months?