NAP DREAM - A PINE TREE AND A VISIT WITH A FRIEND

Nap Dream, just a couple of images:

I am standing by a small pine tree. It's very bushy, and about as tall as I am. As I touch the sharp spiky leaves on the top, something shifts under me and I see that the tree has grown by about a foot. I shout to the other people around me, and they all gather, about a half-dozen of them, around the tree and me. Suddenly, the tree starts growing again and its growing fast. I hold on tightly and find that there is now a sturdy branch under my feet, and the ground is about 10 feet below me. Another shudder and again a mighty growth spurt. The people are all shouting for me to hang on and not fall, but I am now not afraid, but feeling exhilarated and very happy, as though I have just been made a part of something fantastic. By now I'm about 30 or 40 feet up, watching as the new growths sprout all around the trunk. This growth stops about half-way up the trunk, leaving the bottom part without any branches. It crosses my mind to wonder how I will get down, but that is a concern for later. Right now, I just enjoy filling my lungs with the clean, pine-scented air.

The other image is with me being visited by a very old friend whom I haven't seen for many years now. She is pushing a stroller with a new baby in it, and I recall her telling me that she just gave birth. It's a little girl (in *real* life she did indeed have a little girl about half-year ago). I bend down into the carriage to admire the child, and my friend sits down on a grass-covered hill. She's excited and bursting to tell me something. I take a moment to admire her appearance - where she was always beautiful, now she's positively glowing and sparkling. Her long black hair is wound about her head in a crown of braids (very Russian!). She tells me that she does not want to offend me, but living where she does (in California), she found herself another costume designer. She tells me of a beautiful dress that she ordered, which she calls "An Evangeline" dress, and I get an instant image of a soft gray gown with a fitted bodice and full long skirts, and sleeves that flare out. A scarf of white linen is draped and tied at just below her throat. She nods as she sees my image of it ...

A TEMPLE

Just a very small vague impression from last night's dreams:


The setting is a very much like an ancient temple with Grecian columns. The main colours are soft gold and white. There are women (priestesses?) all around and I am one of them. I pass a room with a large basin, a tub, which is filled with clear water and in that water is a small child, a boy of about 18 months. I call one of the few males around (a servant?) and tell him to rescue the child. Another woman, one of great power, comes running to us, but I stop her and tell the man, "The Empress is not your servant. Do what I say!" He takes the child out and wraps him in a white blanket and we are all relieved to see the child is alive.


----


When I woke up I was puzzling over my statement regarding the Empress.  Still can't figure it out.

A BEAUTIFUL SPA

I am in an exclusive lodge/spa.  I am not sure if I am a guest or staff here, or whether all guests take part in being staff as well.  The large house is full of people, both men and women.  The entire building is decorated with lush plants, peaceful blue-greeen decore, shimmering pools, and lovely furniture.  Further, it is located in a deep deep woods by a beautiful lake.

A small group of men take me on a tour, and tell me the daily process.  I will start in one well-appointed waiting room, up a couple of steps into a small weigh-in room, and based on what my weight is that morning, my meals will be tailor-made for me.  The third room has a simple table and chair, and my breakfast waiting for me.  On this particular morning, my breakfast is full of exotic lushous fruit, including creamy bananas and mangos whose skin is a soft rosy blush.  We never see the cooks or the kitchen, for some reason.  Also, the breakfast room is solitary - no one else joins me.  

Some time goes by, and there are two women in particular that I am very closely attached to.  I am also very comfortable with the men, as we all work together towards the common goal of well-being.  On this particular morning, I am to greet a new guest, and when I get to the reception room, I see a beautiful black woman.  She looks defient and aloof, but I soon discover that it's because she is afraid.  I try to set her at ease as I take her on her tour, and by the time we come to the waiting room where we all have to pass through in the morning routine, she has relaxed enough to share with me that she is a singer.  She further tells me that she would like a private spot to practice her singing.  I take her to her room and assure her she can sing to her heart's content there.

It is now evening and I am sitting outside by the lake.  This area has been landscaped to include a series of terraced steps that lead to the deeps of the lake.  There are many guests out here, enjoying the setting sun as it sinks into the sparkling waters.  I am sitting on one of the terrace steps while the cool refreshing water laps around my legs and hips.  I smile as I hear the beautiful resonent tones of the woman's voice soaring through the house, thinking of how afraid she has been when she first came here.  Two men, dressed in medeival/barberic costumes (bathing suits, really), come out, while clashing swords.  We all laugh at this display, especially since they make such a show of splashing us all as they finally fall into the lake proper, abandoning their weapons and swimming away with powerful strokes.  

Now the black woman, stunning in her short white tunic comes out, but singing something absurd about how boys never really grow up, and sent us all laughing again.  She acknowledges us with gracious bows before walking into the water like the Goddess she is - truly the Lady of the Lake!

NAP DREAM - WALKING DOWN THE ROAD, UNDERGROUND TUNNEL, ROUND HOUSE

(Much happens that I don't remember, before...)

... I find myself walking along a country road with some friends.  There are some cars that pass by sporatically in either direction, but for the most part it's a peaceful walk.  We are all chatting companiably; the day is coming to an end and I know we're going into the west; the sun is a large ball of orange gold behind the line of tall fir trees.  

There is a dip in the road and I now find that I am alone.  I go down, knowing from memory that it will take me to a short pedestrian tunnel, while the cars will be able to drive on top.  As I go down, I look up and see a large round house.  It's beautiful!  While the construction is solid brick and stone, there are also many large curved windows all around.  I stop for a moment and think that there should be some other building there, but can't bring the image to mind, and so walk under the wooden slatted road.  I can see the exit on the other side, but as I get there I notice that it's not really an  exit - it's just a large hole at the top of the embankment below the wooden road slats.  I know that I cannot climb out there and wonder where along the way I took a wrong turn.

I turn around an walk back the length of the short tunnel, and back outside.  I continue to curve along the road up to the house, because i suddenly remember that I've been there before with some friends.  There is a family including a young daughter living there.  I make my way to the back of the house (known only by the fact that it faces away from the road) and up the winding porch steps.

Suddenly I hear voices behind me, and a young woman (whom I recognize as the "daughter") comes running up behind me, all breathless and laughing.  Behind her are two men, one obviously her boyfriend and the other one her brother.  They stop momentarily and look at me, and I greet her by name.  Recognition dawns on her face, and the three of them continue running up.  I wonder if the parents will now be calling the police to report a prowler.

---- ---- ----

Well, that's about it, except that I also recall a faint image of some kind of atmospheric phenomenon - the sky divided into three parts with different coloured clouds.  It was part of some scientific experiment.

BLACK BUGS, DEAD MICE AND SHOOTING ARROWS

I am at home - a different home from the one I live in now - with my children. They are all adults, even as they are now, and although I know all five are there, my interaction is only with three of them.  The home is a large house, very old, dark, drafty, and impossible to keep clean.  I feel frustrated and trapped.  

My oldest daughter, Ida, comes to me and tells me that she has invited a couple of her friends for a sleepover.  Before I could say anything, she goes off and soon my youngest son crosses my path.  He has a large jar with many different leaves and branches in it.  He tells me that his dad bought him this exotic cricket, and indeed I see a small black insect crawling around in the bottle.  Vaguely I recall that these bugs are now all the rage and fad with young people.

I go upstairs to the bedrooms and see something large and black scurry by my feet.  And another one.  It slows down only long enough for me to see that it's like the bug in my son's jar, but much larger, about two inches long, with a hard exo-skeleton.  The two are joined by three more, and now I am near panicking, as I watch them scuttle to all different parts of the house.  And yet, deep inside me, I know that they are harmless - indeed, under certain circumstances, they can be quite helpful.  But at the moment, all I can think of is that these large bugs are loose in my home and will probably go on to multiply into many more.

After a moment I pass my oldest daughter's room.  She is sweeping it out, putting it in order.  Her younger sister is helping her.  She tells me that she's preparing for her friends.  "You remembr, Ma", she says, "Emily and her friend are supposed to come over."  I am still distracted and tell her that I remember and then warn her about the bugs that are now loose.  She stops sweeping for a moment and says, "And I'll bet they're hard to kill because they have such a hard shell".  I nod.  She says she's not worried, that they won't "bug" her.  She laughs at her own pun and goes on sweeping.  Her sister doesn't say anything, but I see her chuckling as she makes the bed.  As I walk away, I can only marvel at how uncharacteristic this is of them. 

I see the bugs out of the corner of my eye as I go outside, determined not to let them bother me.  The yard is very large, and I feel like the house behind me has somehow changed into another dwelling.  Across the yard, I see another building, like a large shed, and I make my way there.  It is now almost sunset, and the yard is bathed in rich golden sun.  There's a pond to my left, and a river that runs from it.  I continue to walk towards the shed with some new purpose within me.

Inside it's more like a large barn/workshop.  There are many tools hanging both on the walls and from the wooden rafters and in the centre of the big open room is a man standing by the forge.  He is middle aged and large, muscular, as would befit a blacksmith.  His hair is thick and white and his face is sculpted.  This is a surprise to me, since I expected to see someone with hanging jawls and florid complection.  I don't have time to think about it, because he greets me by name and tells me that the arrows are ready.  He leads me to a small table and shows me about a dozen deep emerald-green arrows fletched with silver and silver tips.  He asks me if my aim has improved and I just shurg, having visions of my last SCA archery session, where I shattered about three arrows in the rafters of the shooting range.  He knows what I'm thinking and chuckles.

"But my clout shooting is good," I say, trying to redeem myself somewhat.  He chuckles.

He collects one arrow, a small target and a beautifully made bow and hands them to me.  He tells me that we will practice by the pond, and expects me to shoot the arrow cleanly to the other side.  As we walk out of the workshop I knock over a small white box and am surprised to see that there are living animals in it.  Looking more closely, I see that it's a mouse trap, and while some of the mice were alive, most of them were dead.  At the bottom of the box was another smaller box full of poison.  

I drop it quickly and it breaks open, spilling them all onto the cold cement floor.  The man looks annoyed, but tells me to leave it, that it will be cleaned up soon.  The shooting is more important.  We continue walking through the building and now I begin to worry about my archery skills.  I remember how my arm was bruised so badly by the string, I remember how I couldn't hit the target to save my life.  

The man is now setting up the small target, made all that much smaller by being across the pond, while I test out the tension on the bow.  One shot - that's all I have - one shot with one arrow, to hit that target.  I take a deep breath and nock the arrow into the bow, marvelling how smoothly it slides into place...

DESIGNING IN SCHOOL, GIANT BUTTERFLIES, PSYCHIC CRYSTALS

I am in a school, full of worn polished wood, glass display cases, and the chalky, dusty smell that all schools have.  All around me are young people, some going to class, some relaxing in the library, some in the gym playing basketball.  I am met by a couple of teachers and taken into a large classroom and told that I was to design settings for some rooms.  They provide me with sheets of bristal board, markers, pencils, and swatches of fabrics.  I feel excited about this and am eager to begin, but in spite of my best efforts, it's not going smoothly, and I soon get frustrated with my attempts.  

It does not help that kids keep running back and forth through the room.  All have some good reason or another for being there, but it disturbs me, and I finally give up.  Just as I get up, however, I suddenly see exactly what I am supposed to do and sit back down again.  Taking a fresh sheet of bristal board, I begin to sketch a circular room from different angles and find the precise fabric that will enhance the setting - a filmy drape with which I create a tent-like effect.

Having done that I go to find the teachers who welcomed me first, and find myself in a small room occupied by two young men who are arguing.  One  tells the other he's glad that it's dead and mounted, and looking around I can see what he's talkking about - a huge monarch butterfly on a pedestal.  It looks lifeless, but as the young man comes over to it, it suddenly begins to flutter its wings before flying up, around and out of the room.  I follow it as it flits into another room, this one filled with its companions - giant butterflies of all different hues and colours.  They settle on the surfaces and walls, but in very specific patterns, creating wall-sized flowers, jewelled chains, geometric arrays every few seconds.  I feel that they're also having far too much fun to be bothered by the likes of me.  I am reluctant to leave them, but must go to continue my work.

I cannot find the people, and so return to my work station to continue refining the design of the "Inner Sanctum" meditation room (as I have now come to call it).  On the table, I find a small container of sapphire blue and gold crystals, and am delighted with this colour combination.  I take out a couple of the crystals and am startled to find that they seem alive.  Even as I think this, they begin to flow and reconfigure themselves around my hand.  As with the butterflies, flowers and a myriad of geometric patterns emerge, like a kelidascope.  I gently put this down on a silver dish and think of a specific design, and it immediately takes that shape - gold and blue interweaving in such a way as to create a deep turquoise tones.  

It is with this design that my gauzy draperies will be banded with.  I send my vision to the crystals, and before they comply, one gently caresses my fingers with a delicate tendral...

OF COWS AND FLOODS AND OTHER THINGS...

My dreams last night left me with just a jumble of images, and I'm not sure how or even if they all connect into one story.  Here is my memory of them:

1.  I am in a barn with some cows.  I feel very connected with them, as though I care for them every day.  I talk to them as I go about my chores of feeding and watering them, promising them that soon, soon they will be able to run freely in the meadows.  Somehow, I find myself on the floor, because I have slipped and fell.  A black cow saunters over and begins to sit on me.  I panic, knowing that if I get pinned under her, I will get crushed, and yet, I am unable to move.  She lowers herself on me, but with just enough pressure to let me know of what she can do.  Finally, I manage to roll away and stand up, brushing off the hay and dust off me, my panic now subsiding.  The cow looks at me with very knowing eyes, laughing in her own way.  With a swish of her tail and a toss of her head, she sashays back to the stall, knowing she showed me who was boss!

2.  I am with a young girl and together we are riding our bikes along a rural road into town.  We work there and it is our custom to do this every morning.  On this particular day, the road is flooded and we are remarking on how this could have happened, since there has been no rain lately.  We get to work, and after a while, I open the front door, only to find that the water has now reached the threshhold.  My feet are bare, and I trail my toes in the warm water.  At that moment, I find myself high above the town, seeing the town centre from a bird's-eye view.  There is a symbol beneath the waters that can only be seen from above - a cross within a circle - and it shimmers with its own power.  Just as suddeny, I am back on the threshhold and my friend is with me.  Together we make our way towards the bikes, spashing and playing like little children.  I feel we should be concerned about this, but somehow we're not, as though we know all is and will be well.

3.  (This next bit is somehow connected with both the images above.)  I'm in the barn again and with me are two young boys, who I know have driven their bikes through the flooded streets.  There is something very strange about one of them, as though he is somehow disguised.  An older woman is also with us, and I recognize her as Angela Lansbury, but more specifically, in her Jessica Fletcher role on "Murder She Wrote".  She is dressed in a smart suit which is really out of place in a barn, and is holding a large magazine and a pair of scissors.  Her back is to the two boys and she is in her "Aha!  I've got it!" mode, baiting them to make their move.  She proceeds to cut out a page from the magazine, while saying, "It's over, you know.  You are not that little boy any more, and you can't fool me any longer.  It's time to become the man you are. See?  I'm cutting out that part of your life that would have you under such delusions!"  As she says this, one boy disappears, and the other one transforms into an older man.  He is very handsome, with thick silver-white hair and mustache, and is dressed in nothing but boxer-briefs, so white they're almost blinding.  He comes over to Jessica and the two embrace.  

4.  I am at a piano trying to descipher a particularly difficult piece of music.  I know this has been written by my father, and I sense him standing behind me.  I am not entirely comfortable with this, feeling as though I am once again a little girl trying to understand something that is beyond me, but am urged to do the impossible by the authority of my father.

BEEKEEPING

I am with a group of people, who are rather indistinct.  We are parked on a lonely stretch of road out in a rural area.  It is getting dark, and we are concerned that we may be lost.  One man steps up to me and tells me to move closer to the field, and actually pulls me into the tall swaying crops.  I am unable to determine whether its wheat or corn; what concerns me more is why he is so anxious not to be seen, since I do not see or hear anyone but us.  Before long, though, I do see a group of women coming down the road.  They have baskets, and are dressed in colourful floral-print dresses.  I feel I know them, and in spite of my companion's urging to stay hidden, I walk out and greet them.  They call out to me with warmth and hugs, as though they too were acquainted with me, treating me like a long-lost sister.


Now I find myself in large hall or lodge.  It's made of wooden logs, and is filled with long tables and chairs made from the same wood.  The feeling of belonging here grows with every passing moment - it's like I'm finally come home.  We are all chatting away while the women with their baskets begin sorting all the herbs and botanicals they have gathered.  The talk turns to horror films, and we laugh at what would be the scariest parts.  I ask them if they have ever seen a movie entitled, "Christiana", and immediately correct myself, but not before someone says, "Oh, wasn't that about a mistress to the French King?"  I respond, "No, not "Christiana", I meant to say, "Carrie", the one that has buckets of blood poured down."  "Oh yes," one of the women responds, "that was so hokey!" And we all laugh again.


One of the women comes out with two outfits and asks me if I would like to go harvest some honey with her. I put on the suit that completely covers me, just as she does, but just before we go out, I realize I forgot to put on my gloves, which I go for.  Thus protected, we go out to the bee hives.  I fight the urge to keep walking without swatting the insects that now swarm around us.  I see how calmly she walks among them, and how they almost welcome her presence, and try to do the same.


Coming back to the lodge with a couple of buckets of honey and honey comb, my companion now begins to tell everyone that we must get ready for the evening ceremony.  She tells another woman to take me and show me what to do, since she wants me to lead the ritual tonight.  After the first instant of panic, I realize that I won't have any trouble doing the rite - again, its familiar to me, even though I know I've never done it the way it's done here.


I peel off my protective gear and go to prepare for the upcoming ceremony, and the rest of my life in this community.


--------


This dream is one in a long series of dreams dealing with a community of women.  The reason I found myself feeling so comfortable and "familiar" here is because I have dreamed of this and these women many times before.  This particular dream also was taking many elements from the latest remake of the movie, "The Wicker Man", especially regarding the bees.  What was lacking, thankfully, was the harsh exclusivity that the movie portrayed.  I knew there would be no human sacrifice, just a wonderful feeling of belonging.  

ORGANIZING A MUSEUM AND LIBRARY

I am in a large building, full of people.  We are all busy organizing displays in the various rooms.  I wander around and end up in a huge gallery-like room at the end of which is a door leading to the back stairway.  In my walkabout, I realize that this museum is dedicated to something that I am familiar with, a fusion of the SCA and the Craft, and suddenly I become very excited.  


I approach a group of people who are having a rather heated discussion as to how to proceed, and I tell them their displays should be separated in *this* way and made into two groupings.  One woman begins to argue with me, but I gently redirect her to setting up the display.  I also tell her that someone is waiting for me.  I leave her with the others, and make my way to the back door.  


Before I can reach it, a large young man intercepts me.  He has curly dark brown hair, brown eyes behind large glasses, a warm smile, and is dressed in dark pants and a white shirt open at the neck.  He is carrying a thick intricately carved staff, which is obviously to be displayed somewhere.  He tells me that there is something in the back he needs to show me, to which I respond I was just heading there, and we head out the back door.  The landing is large and is set out with about half-dozen chairs, as though there has just been a "back-room" meeting going on.  Another young man is there and begins to tell me I'm not supposed to be here.  I ignore him while my companion takes care of the situation.  


Once this is done he takes me into a small room on the other side of the stairs.  This room contains a table, a couple of chairs and many boxes of books.  I know what I must do here, and am anxious to start.  The books from one box lay in heaps on the table and I am struck by the cover of one pile - a Greenman.  The book itself deals with the Elements.  


One final detail needs to be settled.  I turn to my companion and ask him ... but before I say a word, he waves me through to another door which I know leads to the library, where all these books are to be shelved.  I happily pick up my first stack of the Greenman/Elements books and head towards the door.

DRAGON ON A LEASH

So far, this is the only image I have retained from last night's dream:


I am in a hallway of a school, or a similar old building.  There is a wide staircase to my right with a landing then stairs continuing to the left.  I am with other people, all of whom are in a very jovial mood, but my attention is focused on the noise that is coming from upstairs.  It sounds like a commotion made by a struggling animal, a frantic thrashing.  


I ask about it, and someone offhandedly tells me that yes, some sort of animal has been captured.  Suddenly, I see what it is - because it is tethered, it can only fly a short distance to the landing, and back again.


It's a small dragon! The hide is a deep chocolate brown, and the wings are stubby and small, as though they haven't fully developed yet.  I see the tether tighten and choke the animal back with a snap as it flies to its length.  I feel horrified at its suffering, but know that I cannot do anything about it, because at that moment, someone comes along and tells us we have to leave the building.