Mystic Lake

(Thursday, March 6, 2025) first quarter moon Gemini

This dream takes place along a huge body of water that reminds me of Mille Lacs: “grand lac du pays des mille lacs” which means “great lake of the region of the thousand lakes.” Dakota people call it Mde Wakan, “Mystic Lake” or “Spirit Lake.” Our family cabin was on Mille Lacs and the lake was large enough that the view across it was open, with no visible shoreline. Like an endless ocean. This dream lake feels the same. The water is completely still and grey. No reeds or fish are visible. Nothing living below the surface of the water. The sky is foggy-grey and I cannot see the sun.

The shoreline from which I view the lake is covered with green forests. No mountains or bluffs. Gentle hills. A very large community lives here, and I am a member. People are doing work together, especially children. A small group of kids explore costumes and plays.

I have a periodic task that takes me out onto the water, in a simple boat. I come and go. I see no motor or steering device but I can still control it, move it forward. Most of the time two male captains (early-middle-age) sit at the front, the helm, and I rely on them to guide my journey. They are both tall, strong. One always wears a black felt cap, open in the middle, shaped like a crown.

I know it is my goal to progress out of the bay, into the deep water of the lake/ocean. The dream includes multiple trips, sometimes alone, sometimes with The Captains. The grey stillness and lack of life beneath gives me apprehension, fear. But I have to do this. No choice.

I reach a point where I have learned enough from The Captains to be able to take the silver boat on my own, far past the cove, into the wide and waveless water. The grey sky and grey ocean feel like they join in the far distance. At the edge. The void.

When returning to the bay I notice the water is not empty, as I had thought. Tiny minnows, barely detectable, are swimming. A big surprise. I coast toward The Captains, who are seated in a different vessel, resting, to my left. The smiling, dark-haired captain, who has always worn the crown in the past, is no longer wearing any hat. I see his crown stored in a little round box, along with another felt hat, which is light brown.

Day notes:

Yesterday I had a new dental assistant to clean my teeth. His room was full of St. Patrick’s Day decorations so we discussed our heritages. His family crest (McCoy) has black ravens while mine (Sheehan) has white doves. He played Irish music for me and told me about The Celtic Junction in St. Paul. I had a new male dentist, also. Both very skilled. They are about the same age (early middle-age).

All the stress in my life (Cullan’s difficult divorce, working with the Mayo, my mother hospitalized for two weeks, my father’s lungs failing) has taken away most of my energy. I have been sick with a bad cold all week and stayed in bed for many hours, many days.

A huge snowstorm yesterday, at least 9 inches of wet snow. Cullan and my neighbor Mike did all of the shoveling for me.

My passed relatives said some of my ancestors were members of the Dakota Mdewakanton Community (Mystic Lake near Shakopee). So hard to know what is true. Only one online article says Wapasha had a daughter named Grey Cloud, other articles don’t verify that.

The dream feels like being taught the multi-dimensional reality of the after-death experience. My energy starts to fuse with the energy of stillness.

I have had a lot of recent dreams that include plays and acting.

This dream environment has shown up many times over many years: a kind community living in nature along the sea. It especially reminds me of my Emerson dream and my dream of the Virginia Beach conference.

Am I wearing the crown now? I think of the felt pirate hat from Wyn’s fourth birthday. Meaning of “felt”: a past emotion? Wool, black sheep? Crown chakra hats? I am feeling a lot of difficulty with word memory, which may be affected by the stresses in my current life. My mind/brain function moving toward emptiness, the void.

Emily Dickinson: The Brain – is wider than the Sky

The Brain — is wider than the Sky —
For — put them side by side —
The one the other will contain
With ease — and You — beside —

The Brain is deeper than the sea —
For — hold them — Blue to Blue —
The one the other will absorb —
As Sponges — Buckets — do —

The Brain is just the weight of God —
For — Heft them — Pound for Pound —
And they will differ — if they do —
As Syllable from Sound —

March 10:

We worked on this dream last night and Peter brought up the phrase “grey matter.” That makes perfect sense for me. The empty water (clear fluid) made me think this morning about my Mayo spinal tap‘s normal protein rate result.

Cindy B. sent me beautiful journal pages she made eight years ago about Emily’s poem.

March 11:

At my acupuncture appointment today Dr. Yu played the old Mamas and Papas song:
California dreamin’
On such a winter’s day
All the leaves are brown
And the sky is grey

Lying under my needles I thought of this: captains have caps.

I had strong physical sensations for the first time at acupuncture. My body kept shimmering, especially the crown of my head.

Crunching The Numbers

(Monday, February 24, 2025) moon waning crescent Capricorn

Two adult sisters are outdoors, on a meandering walk to enter a building where I manage a few chores. I know they are on their way, and I have met them before. They are taking their time. I prepare computer software that will process financial work they need to do.

When they arrive and enter the room, they take a short look at the pleasant decor. Then I remind them about processing the numbers. I show them how I am using the software and they take over. I don’t have to do it for them. I stand next to one of the sisters and she tells me about their upcoming travel to Australia. They are ready to buy their tickets for the flight. I say, “My friend Bonnie used to live in Australia.”

Day notes:

I always have to wait to finish preparing our taxes for Carlson because a legal document from Chris’ trust arrives in March. I am nervous that we might owe taxes this year since our financial advisor said to file for Social Security without having taxes taken out every month.

I had a dream I called “Argy Bargy,” which is slang in Australia for argument, dispute.

When my bank account was hacked, two of the steals were for airplane tickets from Southwest. I have been repaid.

March 26: All went well with our taxes. We only owed the feds $46 and the state owed us $84.

Journal: 2025 Resolution Is Creativity

(Saturday, February 22, 2025)

I had a recent dream about creativity (Argy Bargy). Both Victoria’s dream circle and Cullan have (separately) discussed my benefit to focus on the creative at this moment in my life. And Bonnie has posted a new dream about abstract art and playing marbles with me. “Denise puts on her glasses.” Visualization? Reading/writing? The word “marbles” has a list of interesting definitions. In Argy Bargy I am attending plays and in Bonnie’s dream we are playing.

I have been thinking a lot about what creative direction I wish to pursue. Today a detailed email newsletter from Sharon Blackie confirmed my main idea, which is to research my years of dream posts and create inspired short stories. Sharon says fairy tales offer hope and redemption but they don’t shy away from the dark. The wolf is always at the door. I love my black wolf dreams from 2017.

Dreams are like fairy tales, folk tales. I don’t know if I should just write, or if I should include imagery. I can decide that later. I have to start with the stories. Stories is a word that crops up in so many of my house dreams. I watched MN Original last night and was amazed by two of the gifted women artists. They were both far outside of our cultural norms.

I read a nice article in the local paper about Alan Page’s new children’s book. He and his daughter have written five books together.

The Dreamsters Union