(Wednesday, May 21, 2014) Yesterday morning I dream my mother is driving me to Fridley high school for my reunion. She drives halfway to my destination, dropping me off in the middle of the street, turning back to spend the rest of the afternoon at home, doing nothing.
I walk to the back parking lot. Reception tables are set up outside and long lines of people wait to register for the event. I get in queue behind a woman that I recognize as Janet Scott from my 1975 graduating class. I don’t think she will remember me but she looks directly into my eyes, initiating a lively conversation, as if we parted just yesterday.
Her hair is still bright red and she retains her vibrant, almost masculine energy. Even though her father was a music professor at the U of M, Janet was always a little rough around the edges, completely uninhibited. Her friend Michael (a woman who ended up practicing interior design in Paris) stands at her shoulder. Is she the Archangel? Janet wears two small campaign-style buttons on her sweater, one red and one purple. (I think: root chakra red, crown chakra violet.) She’s holding several text books, casually, in her hands. I had assumed the reunion to be a social occasion but Janet informs me that it is educational. As usual, I am unprepared. She sends me to the central atrium to fetch my books.
In the building center, at the core, I find the most amazing, larger-than-life character. Literally. He seems to be at least seven feet tall and weighs hundreds of pounds. In spite of his size, he is light on his feet. He’s monitoring a busy study hall full of students, bouncing across the room and roaring like a crazed Shakespearean actor. He is a true mythical spirit, many eons old. I think he is Bacchus / Dionysus.
He chooses two young male “delinquents” to accompany me to the book depository. I have forgotten my way around the school but the teenagers know how to find the North corridor, which is where the books are stored. They retrieve my books and also place a gift in my palm: three tight, curly buttons of pot, or perhaps peyote. The size and shape of them remind me of the red and purple buttons worn by Janet Scott.
Day notes:
Janet Scott: a woman with two first names, one female, one male. Mirrors the image of the woman with a male name of Michael. Peter’s quaternity.
Gifts of hallucinogenic herb or cactus: shamanic power, entrance to the mystical realms. Bacchanal. The name “Denise” is French, but the roots are from the Greek “Dionysus.”
North node in astrology is one’s karmic destination; mine is at 20 degrees Scorpio in the fifth house, The House of Pleasure (procreation, children, creation of art and culture).
Many dream characters, of late, gaze intently into my eyes.
