(Saturday, December 6, 2014) Moon: full, Gemini / Tarot: Magician
I have forgotten much of this dream. Chris and I are in a temple or an abbey of white stone. There is a square pool, also of stone, surrounded by columned porticos. The surface of the pool begins to freeze. A large snowflake forms in the cold water. As it crystallizes it forms a three-dimensional orb made of ice. The orb rises from the water and floats through the winter air.
(Friday, December 5, 2014)
I’m tagging along on a great journey with two other women. On foot. An athletic, dark-haired woman is the travel guide. She is energetic and a bit masculine. She is instructing the other woman in a friendly, enthusiastic way. Neither of them pays me much attention.
The trail follows alongside a quiet, meandering river. Green rolling hills. There are no buildings or cars, no signs of civilization. I have dreamt of this place before. The guide points out how sweet and healing the air is next to the river. I am grateful for the medicine.
We reach our destination and begin to cross a short wooden boardwalk that leads to a wood-framed house. A cold, shallow brook runs beneath the walkway. Horrified, I notice three small spaniel pups sleeping in a bed of long grass with their noses just under the surface of the water. Their mother naps a short distance away, on the edge of the bank. Her nostrils are above the spring-fed water.
I pull each of the black and white spotted pups from the streambed, overjoyed to find them still alive. The other women made no notice of the endangered animals. They are already in the house.
(Thursday, December 4, 2014)
Many long and detailed dreams over the past three days (Thursday, Friday, Saturday).
Again I am in a large conference center full of people. In the earliest part of the dream I am sitting in a room with my sister Jo, her husband Timm and others. I’ve lost the memory of what we are doing together.
The dream progresses to another part of the center. I’m holding my infant son in my arms. He is the size of a large doll and is contained in a cardboard box, like a toy. Baby and box are swaddled in a warm blanket. I am standing in front of a counter, buying something from a couple of women who are working concessions. A pacifier or some formula, I’m not sure.
I take my sleeping baby out from his wrappings to show the women. I am a little surprised at his appearance: he has pointed elf ears, a pointed chin and the top of his bald head is pointed too. His nose is very long and thin. His skin is rather loose and wrinkly, like an old man or an elephant. He is the size of a premie, maybe one or two pounds.
The dream shifts to a warm and comfy room where people are resting in chairs and on sofas. A fireplace is burning. I am getting ready to head outside to explore the neighborhood so I put baby down on a couch, leaning over him, tucking soft blankets around his tiny frame.
I stretch my body long over the sofa and feel a man behind me encircle my waist with his arms and press himself against me. We are both clothed but I feel his erection. Surprised again. I turn around to see Scott, Chris’ boyhood friend from Chicago.
The dream shifts to the outdoors. I ride my bicycle through a neighborhood that is canopied by mature oak trees. Rolling hills. I know that Bonnie is very familiar with this place, so maybe it is Shady Oak. I am enchanted by a house that has a roof made of many colors and varieties of quartz shingles. Each shingle is framed by lead, like a stained glass window.
The dream shifts to the interior of the center again. I am holding my bicycle high above my head because the room is crowded with people. The bicycle weighs one hundred pounds but I am very strong. Carrying the bike creates no effort. I enjoy my strength.
The room has some kind of connection to the W.A.R.M. gallery because there is an old poster on a wooden door that says “Betty Friedan Was Here.” A heavy wooden table blocks the door, so again I am surprised. How did I get back into the center? I move through the crowd with my bike, wheels spinning overhead. Bonnie and Pat are waiting in the next room. The dream dissolves.
Day notes:
Magical baby. Ancient? Premature?
Scott called Chris a day after I had this dream, which is a pretty rare event. Chris calls Scott his “brother.”
I had another dream this week with similar sexual content but a different partner.
Spinning wheels: fate, karma, fairy tales. The image of two spinning wheels reminds me of the Magician’s lemniscate, the symbol of infinity.
Robert Waggoner says a counter can be indicative of the border between the living and the dead. Or maybe a border between dimensions.
Betty Friedan wrote “The Feminine Mystique.”
I have indeed lost the memory of what my family and I are “doing together.” I don’t have a sense of belonging, of connection. I don’t feel sad or anxious about it.
Working concessions. Pacifier. Formula. Center. Warm.
The point on baby’s head is interesting. I think of the cap that Harry the Magician gave me. Symbolizes the eighth chakra, I think, six or so inches above the crown of the head. Where the Akashic Record is stored.
