(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?