TheDreamstersUnion

Last week I dream I am an Aztec priest, garbed in a colorful feathered costume and dancing with my fellow priests.

(Saturday, October 25, 2014) Waxing crescent moon in Scorpio / eight of wands

I dream of a house that Chris, Cullan and I used to live in (not in this lifetime). We were very happy there. I have dreamt of this exact house before. It’s about the size and shape of our Wayzata house, but it is located near a fork in a river. The village landscape looks like Champlin, Minnesota, near where the Crow and Rum Rivers enter the Mississippi. Rolling green hills. There is a much earlier house that I also remember in this dream, and in previous dreams. It is a small square cottage situated outside of the village, in the countryside. Another happy home.

In my dream I am flying over the “Champlin” house. I can get very close and inspect the details of the property and the structure, but I soon become aware of a physical barrier which prevents me from traveling to the house in the physical world.

I wake up. As I lie in bed examining the details of this dream and the older dreams, I fall back into a light sleep. I have a vibrant vision of a woman with great white antlers. Patricia Garfield’s Branching Woman. She is pale-skinned, regal and beautiful. She imparts a secret, a message I don’t bring into waking life. I think it is about flying and the astral body. She smiles, turns away from me and melds into the small sculpture I have been working on that I call Volare (“to fly” in Italian). So I realize when I wake up that the tendril-shaped hair I often include in my clay sculptures represents growing branches, not Medusa snakes as one art teacher I had at Santa Fe Clay declared. And I also understand how vital it is to use dreams in my artwork. Dreams as subject unite the two dimensions.

Day notes:

There are many places in New England and Canada named after the French explorer Champlain, the founder of Quebec and “New France.” The area around Champlin and Dayton, Minnesota, was an early French settlement. Cullan and I used to live a mile north of Dayton.

Eight of wands: inflammation. I have to make an emergency appointment this morning at Minnetonka Animal Hospital. Lola has one of her infections again, but we caught it early. Hopefully she wasn’t in too much pain.

Fork = branch

(Saturday, October 18, 2014) Waning crescent moon in Virgo / three of cups reversed

In the middle of the night I dream I am a man in ancient Rome. I am the teacher of small boys.

Toward morning I have several dreams that seem to be detritus from the previous day. Then just before awakening I have this dream: I meet Bonnie in the lobby of a large, modern hotel. To my surprise Sabine Lucas is there too. She has come to meet our dream group and make a presentation. I don’t remember asking her to come. I know her finances are limited and I’m not sure the Dreamsters even accept the concept of past-life dreams (Sabine says memories).

The three of us go to the next level of the hotel and enter another large lobby. A group is waiting for us but I don’t recognize anyone. It’s not The Dreamsters Union. Sabine makes her presentation while Bonnie and I listen. The group has trouble following Sabine. They are not as experienced at dream work as The Dreamsters. They are polite but a bit disengaged. Their questions are off-target. One man leaves in exasperation.

The dream shifts. I am sitting around a bonfire in the woods in the dark with The Dreamsters and Sabine. I decide to walk away for a moment from the circle of friends. I stand in the deep blackness and turn back to look at the blazing fire. Suddenly I see a rocketship shoot up into the sky from behind the bonfire. It climbs a few hundred feet, then begins to crash back to earth. As it descends it breaks up into cylindrical sections. In terror I realize the trajectory of the metal debris is arcing toward me. I run backward, frightened, but also fascinated by the emblems and writing on the side of the rocket. It’s a very old rocket, from the time of my childhood. Maybe Russian. A huge piece hits the ground right next to me. But I am unhurt.

My friends rush to my side. I tell Sabine about my dream from that morning: I dream I am sitting in an open convertible. In my dream I have a waking vision of an old rocketship crashing to earth, nearly hitting me. I find this dream as shocking as the “actual” event. I am grateful to have someone with whom I can share these shamanic dreams.

Day notes:

I will be curious to see if this dream has precognitive elements. I anticipate we will have a bonfire at Jeanne’s cabin Halloween weekend. Sabine is doing a one-day dream workshop in Boulder next month. Something shocking and dangerous will happen during the time of our retreat?

Open convertible = open vehicle (body). Transformational vehicle.

Don Juan tells Carlos Castaneda to practice dreaming within dreams.

UPDATE: a rocket crashed on the launchpad today (October 28), just like this dream!

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/10/28/rocket-explosion-antares_n_6064572.html

The Guardian, October 29: “The launch phase of the Orbital Sciences Corporation’s Antares rocket relied on two AJ-26 engines that were originally produced in the 1970s for a failed Soviet moon programme and later modernised for US space flights. Speculation quickly centred on the Soviet-based engines, which have failed in tests, when the rocket exploded in a giant fireball after takeoff on Tuesday night.”