ABUSIVE MAN, SWIMMING

I am in a huge room where a lot of people are settling in to sleep. It's like crash space after a major event. Everyone is spreading blankets, blowing up air mattrasses, and fluffing pillows. All goes quiet, and we fall asleep.

Suddenly I am awakened by a harsh voice and what sounds like a slap. I lie quietly and hear it again. Now I recognize this as coming from a man at the end of the row, and he is indeed slapping someone who is lying next to him. I am unable to see if it is a woman or child. I get up and make my way over to him, with the determination to intervene. I see that it is a young boy of about 12 that is being slapped around. The man stops when he sees me standing there, but his anger does not abate.

It is now morning, and we are all in a large olympic-size swimming pool. I see the man that was abusing the young boy, and he tries to avoid me. I go over to the boy and together we begin to splash around. We race doing the back crawl, then the front crawl, just having fun. And always, I keep an eye on the man, making sure there is always someone between the boy and him.

BACKSTAGE AND PERFORMANCE

I find myself in a marble-lined room, like an ancient Roman bath house. There is a memory that to get into this room, I had to crawl through a small opening, and now I know that is the only way I can get out. There are other people in the room and I express dissatisfaction at the thought of doing so. Someone shows me a bigger door that I missed the first time and I happily use that.

The small hallway takes me through to a backstage of a theatre. It will be a small performance, I remember, with only three actors, of which I am one. Now I begin to be a bit nervous, because although I have looked at the script, I have not memorized it, but at the same time, I know that I can pretty well bluff my way through it.

My costume is waiting for me - a beautiful knit bright tangarine orange halter-top gown. I put it on, and I suddenly realize that it makes me look like a hundred pounds lighter, like I was in my youth. I don't waste time admiring myself, though, because I now have to struggle with a necklace (one that I own in "real" life). That looks absolutely perfect with this dress. Now I step back and admire for a moment.

We take our places, me on a white plush reclining lounge, the other two women around me, and look out onto an ancient ampatheatre that is filling up slowly with people...

****
This is the second time in a recent memory that I dreamed of that particular orange colour. I must investigate this more...

FLYING AROUND A STUDENT HOUSE

Oh finally!!! I remember a bit of my nap dream! Just from the quality of the dream, I know I was asleep very deeply, so this is what I remember:

I am on the couch and feel myself sitting up. Instantly, I know I am rising out of myself and joyfully do so. After some travelling around (somewhere, all is a blur), I find mysef in a very large old house. It looks like something that was built in the early 1900's, full of wood panels and large windows. The house if full of people - I sense they're students and this is a boarding house for them.

I float around for a bit (there is something here I don't really remember). Finally, I realize that I've gone through time. It's the same house, but now it's modern, filled with students with electronic devices and dressed in modern fashions. I make myself look like I belong here, and somewhere along the line, I quickly steal an I-pod, thinking that it will make me blend in more. I put the ear buds in, and casually walk out. I do not remember flying anymore, and suddenly I am very sluggishly waking up.

It was a commercial I just saw about headphones that suddenly brought this dream to memory - woot!!

RIDING A HORSE

This is a tail end of the dream I had last night.  There was a lot more before and after this snippit.  It would have been nice to know how all this fit in.

I am brought to a crossroads in a woods by somebody in a car and am told my next ride will be here soon. I take out a couple of bags of groceries out of the car, and wait at the cross roads. The car disappears as I see a man leading a horse come down the trail. I recognize him (C.S.), and even seem to know the name of the horse (Aval). C.S. smiles and tells me to mount the horse, and indeed helps me do so. I find it thrilling but also frustrating, because I am still holding the grocery bags, which now block my forward view.

But I do not need to worry, since the beautiful horse is very gentle and sure-footed, and before long I feel confident we will get to our destination without mishap. Eventually, we reach a large garden and again C.S. comes out to meet us. He is carrying a large roll of paper which he then sets down on the ground, right in front of the horse, who puts the front hooves down on the edge, while C.S. unrolls the rest of it to a certain measurement.

That done, he comes to one side to help me down...

A SECRET GARDEN IN SCOTLAND

I am in a very old building - one that may have been built in the middle ages. The big stones are still secure one against the other, there are tapestries all around - just like it would be in a small castle. There is a cool and pleasantly damp feeling, as it would be in the dark pre-dawn. Somewhere within the building, I hear voices.



I stir, and find myself in a large bed, sheets all tangled up about me. I quickly get up and get dressed in the only clothes I find - a white light-weight chemise, a dark skirt and a shawl. Memories of my arrival the night before are fresh, especially my mad hunt for a privy, and I laugh softly to myself. I know that I am to witness some sort of ritual here. I hear more voices, and recognize the accent as Scottish. Yes, I am in Scotland!!



Once dressed, I hurry along the stone corridors and follow the voices to a large room on the main floor. Like all the other rooms, this one has stone walls and floors, and tapestries hang on three walls. The only furniture is a long tressle table and benches, but these are shoved along one wall, to give space for about a half-dozen young women dressed pretty much like I am, in chamises and black skirts. In addition, they are also wearing tight black bodices and tams, and their shawls are of some bright tartan with red being the predominant colour. Their hair is all different shades of gold and red, and falls about their shoulders in tumbling curls and waves.



The door opens, and an older woman beckons them. Smartly, heads held high, they march out, and I follow them. The older woman, with a wave of her hand, indicates the place where I am to stand. I find myself in a beautiful garden, made up of terrace levels. It is kept neat, although with a deliberate wild untamed air about it. In the middle of the terrace below me is a long stone slab, upon which is set some magickal implements. The young girls - no! Priestesses!! - walk and arrange themselves around it, lifting their plaid shawls high. They swirl and dance to the sound of drums and pipes (where are they coming from? I see no musicians), until coming to a very abrupt stop.


Now more slowly, they begin to chant something - the ritual continues...


****


First Australia, then Japan and Africa, a brief meeting with First Nations chiefs, and now Scotland! All tell me of different mysteries, all perform rituals. What an amazing journey I'm on!!

THE RUBY RING

I just woke up from a nap, and had this very short dream:


There is a wicker shelving unit in the bathroom, and on it is a small enamil box. I sense it holds some bath salts. I see a glint of red on top of the box and notice a beautiful ring. I reach for it, but it's wedged between the box and the shelf, and it takes me a minute or two to wedge it out. All this time I'm seeing my hands as though through a lense of a camera.

The ring is a circle of rubies in a silver setting. I marvel at seeing it, because I know that I do not possess such a piece. Of course I try it on, and find that it fits perfectly on my index finger of my right hand.

As I drift to wakefulness a thought drifts through my mind that this is a representation of the Red Tent and the connectiveness of all women.

A YOUNG MOTHER AND A TRIP TO AFRICA

I am with a young woman who is frantically getting a small child ready to take outside. She is rushing every which way and gathering up all the little things that are needed when taking an toddler for an outing. I tell her that I feel there is a storm coming and she needs to hurry up. I try to help her, but only make things worse. Finally, she puts the baby into the buggy, and is ready to go. I tell her it's too late and point to the window - the rain is coming down hard against the glass. She sighs in exasperation and collapses on the couch beside me. We both start laughing.

Change of scene - I see a small black child. He is smiling not just with his mouth but with his whole being. I smile back and see now that he is part of a much larger group. We are in a room that is large and airy, with beautiful red rugs done up with geometric tribal designs, masks, and urns of tall grasses. The furniture, while sparse, is well-crafted out of polished black wood.

I realize that I am somewhere in Africa. A woman in a cottan floral print dress and matching headscarf comes up to me and welcomes me with smiles and joy, holding onto my hands in greeting. I see the group consists of many children, about three dozen, and some adults, and I realize that I am in some orphanage or school. Everyone there seems happy - not just to see me, but genuinely beaming with happiness! I can feel this as though it was something I can physically touch!

The woman who first stepped forward now takes me on a tour, and I suddenly feel shocked. The beautiful reception room is just a facade. It's the only part of a very large building that is completed in an otherwise very old building that is falling apart.

No, not falling apart - another realization and shock! - but being built up and restored! I am told of how proud and happy they all are to obtain such a wonderful building. Plans are unfolded before me as dormitories, classrooms, kitchens, gardens and all other necessities take shape before my eyes.

Everyone now gathers in a room, with half-finished walls and lofty roof, and settles down for a group photo. I am surrounded by smiling faces and such true happiness beaming from each one as I have rarely felt before.

I find myself fighting back tears, so touched am I by all I've seen...

TRIP TO THE ORIENT

I have a very vague recollection of a dream: I am in an oriental country - Japan, I think. There is an arrangement for me to get a job, and I go to see the woman about it, but she acts as though she knows nothing about it. She keeps turning around, admiring the dark shawl she's wearing in a piece of glass that is in the door. I tell her I will be back and will be ready to work.

I walk by an office occupied by two men. They call me in and tell me that I am to participate with them in a telephone survey, except that I won't be on the phone, of course. The survey has something to do with innoculations that everyone needs to get. I wait until they're finished with their telehone calls, and look out a large window - it is very dark outside, and I'm almost expecting to see the "lights in the sky" (a very common theme for me). As I wait, I pick up a box of sand, sort of a zen meditation tray, that also has different stones in it. One colour jumps out at me - a tangerine orange, and I realize it's a shell, and another one. Looking further, I find two stones of the same colour. This is important to me for some reason. I put the box down and take a shell and stone in each hand, and press them to my ears. Whispers, I hear whispers but am unable to distinguish what they say. No one seems to notice as I slip the stones and shells into my pocket.

After waiting for much longer than I should, I simply leave and go outside into a large open park-like setting and lie down on the grass. I look intently at the sky and am astonished to see so many stars! Not only are there the familiar bright constallations, but the more distant, faint stars are now visible, until the entire sky is seen in reverse - the haze of white stars with the black sky in the background poking through.

I feel a deep awe come over me as I simply lie there and worship the universe.

TRIP TO THE ORIENT

I have a very vague recollection of a dream: I am in an oriental country - Japan, I think. There is an arrangement for me to get a job, and I go to see the woman about it, but she acts as though she knows nothing about it. She keeps turning around, admiring the dark shawl she's wearing in a piece of glass that is in the door. I tell her I will be back and will be ready to work.

I walk by an office occupied by two men. They call me in and tell me that I am to participate with them in a telephone survey, except that I won't be on the phone, of course. The survey has something to do with innoculations that everyone needs to get. I wait until they're finished with their telehone calls, and look out a large window - it is very dark outside, and I'm almost expecting to see the "lights in the sky" (a very common theme for me). As I wait, I pick up a box of sand, sort of a zen meditation tray, that also has different stones in it. One colour jumps out at me - a tangerine orange, and I realize it's a shell, and another one. Looking further, I find two stones of the same colour. This is important to me for some reason. I put the box down and take a shell and stone in each hand, and press them to my ears. Whispers, I hear whispers but am unable to distinguish what they say. No one seems to notice as I slip the stones and shells into my pocket.

After waiting for much longer than I should, I simply leave and go outside into a large open park-like setting and lie down on the grass. I look intently at the sky and am astonished to see so many stars! Not only are there the familiar bright constallations, but the more distant, faint stars are now visible, until the entire sky is seen in reverse - the haze of white stars with the black sky in the background poking through.

I feel a deep awe come over me as I simply lie there and worship the universe.

MOVIE MAGIC AND DISCUSSING GUNS

I am in a large cottage in the woods. The cottage itself is very plain, minimal furniture. The living room is turned into a make-up studio with many mirrors, tables and chairs. There are people all around. It's easy to see who the actors, both male and female, are - they're the ones in bathrobes, who come in chattering amongst themselves as they seat themselves in the chairs. The makeup people come in behind them, and begin their work. The whole place is alive with aniticipation as to the next scene is discussed.

I do not seem to have any specific job to do here, and so sit down out of the way in one of the easy chairs just to watch the process. A middle-aged man comes over and sits next to me. He is holding something that catches my eye - a gun. I ask him if it's real, and whether I could hold it. He is hesitant to let me do this, but does tell me that it's a .38, a replica. He holds it up for me to see. He goes on to tell me that he's the owner of the cottage that has been rented out to the studio, and that he has a large collection of replicas that normally are on these walls, but had to be taken down for the time being. In return I tell him that at one time I did some target shooting with a number of firearms.

In the meantime, the makeup progresses, and those actors who are finished head outside. It feels like summer, but as I look around I catch a glimpse of a reflection in the mirror - it shows that outside it's snowing! I quickly look out the door and see that indeed the snow is coming down, even though the leaves and grass are green. "Ah! Movie magic at work!" I think to myself.

As the last actor goes out, I go out right after him. He turns to me and asks me what kind of stuff I write (this is the first hint I have as to my purpose here on set). I tell him that, "If it were my choice, I would be writing about castles outlined against the sunset, tiny dragons - on a leash" I gesture grandly, "heros, strong and handsome", playfully punching him on the shoulder, "and maidens fair", dropping into a deep courtsey before him.

He laughs, as do some others who overhear me, and we trudge towards the one spot where the snow is coming down amongst the green and gold of summer.

****

The strongest image in this dream is the one with the mirror. Just recently, I have posed a question if anyone has seen mirrors or seen themselves in mirrors in their dreams. To my recollection, I this is the first time I have ever seen one. It was very dramatic to see the reflection of snow on a summer's day - there was a clarity and something very mystical in that image.

NOT ONE, NOT TWO, BUT THREE ASTRAL FLIGHTS!!

Not one, not two, but three OOB flights last night! Or more specifically, early this morning:

As normal for me, I woke up at around 3:00 am, and had a bit of trouble falling asleep. It felt that the moment I did, I also sat up (very movie special effect here - I'm lying on my left side, and I'm also sitting up).

I know immediately what is happening and launch myself off to the ceiling. I want to fly outside, and do so immediately - or at least try. The wall I fly through gets me into my bathroom, with the strands of my wall hanging clinging to my face. I feel like a dummy for doing that, take a second to orient myself and fly through the window, out into the early morning dark.

Taking myself higher, I simply hover in the open air, overlooking the streets east of the apartment building. It crosses my mind to go visit someone. "Juliana - I'm going to visit Juliana." Of course, not really knowing where Julie lives, I abandoned the quest. A thought did occur to me that I would be able to find her just by knowing her, and I know this is possible, but I let it go this time. (This was a great breakthrough, though, as this is the first time I've given consideration to go visit someone while in the Astral state.) Shortly afterwards, I feel the tug, and know that it is time to return, which I do effortlessly.

This integration wakes me up just long enough to be aware of what has occurred, but no sooner do I turn over, than my astral self sits up and flies off again. This time, I do not give any thought to doing anything other than being outside again, taking myself there in a fraction of a second, and again just hover around the neighbourhood.

Suddenly, I feel a tug, and know instantly that it is not to come home. I follow it, everything beneath blurring, and find myself looking into the upper windows of a very large home. I immediately am aware that this is a group home of some sort, and I further sense that it's a university fraternity house. Feeling like a voyeur, I look into the lighted window on the upper level and see a group of about four young men. All are wearing just their boxers and t-shirts and just hanging out, and in the midst of a vigorous discussion. This room has couches and tables, a fridge and stove in the corner, and I see doors to the darkened bedrooms off in different directions. I am at a total loss as to what I am supposed to observe here. No other clue comes to me - to me it all looks very normal and good. I turn away and determine my will to get back home and within another fraction of a second, I integrate with myself.

Shift, turn, momentary awareness, and then it all repeats again. This time, I head off to an apartment building that is very old, dark and seedy-looking. The floors creek all on their own, and there's a musty smell in the halls. I float around the different floors (it feels like a 5-story building), puzzled as to what I'm supposed to see. I'm now on the 3rd floor, and the floor creeks loudly, even though nobody is there. The door opens, and a woman's voice calls softly, "----?" Sadly, I knew instantly who she was calling for. Of course, she doesn't see me hovering right there in front of her. (Names and persons withheld for privacy reasons.)

I float down stairs and outside, taking time to do a few lazy corkscrews and nosedives, loops and swirls, making it a game to float between the raindrops. They look like diamonds suspended in mid air, as they slowly make their way down.

Now I am being pulled back home. Final integration, I open my eyes to the sound of some solid rain beating against the window. I know I fell asleep at around 4:30 am, and see that it is now 8:00 am.

SEARCHING FOR A WASHROOM AND DESIGNING A SPIDER JACKET

I remember two dreams from last night, and I know that they were smaller portions of much larger dreams. A word of warning - contains yukky and personal images:


I am in a large department store, in the woman's clothing section. Everything is very crowded around me not only with clothing racks but with women trying on this and that item, squabbling about garments. I wander off to a quieter space, one full of beautiful wedding gowns and other formal wear, and for an instant feel that I am no longer in a department store but backstage at a theatre. There's a particular dusty smell that is unique to theatres and that is what makes me sense the change.

Store or backstage, the women act in basically the same way, and I continue to try and find a quiet spot for myself. Suddenly, I feel the need to find a bathroom, and quickly go in search of one, which I find but it has a line of women waiting to also use it. I know that it will be very difficult for me to wait this out, and I immediately go looking for another washroom. "If I didn't know better," I think to myself, "I would think that this is a dream! But this can't be a dream, this is real!"

Finally, I am back by the wedding dresses and find a pail. Damned the consequences, I need to pee!! And this pail will do quite nicely. Just as I'm about to squat over it, I look across the aisle, and see a man in an army uniform doing the same thing. He has his pants down, just as I'm hiking up my skirts, and we both stare at each other for a moment. At the same time we just shrug, and squat. "Calls of Nature cannot be denied. What is seen cannot be unseen", crosses my mind. For some reason, I see traces of blood, as though I am having my period, and this worries me on several levels. Looking around, I see a discarded small garment, like a t-shirt, and use this to clean myself up with...

...At that moment I woke up finding that I indeed needed to find a washroom, but puzzled as to why I didn't recognize that I was dreaming. This was around 3:00 am. I fell back asleep very quickly, and sometime before getting up, I dreamed the following:

I am on a movie set, and the shot is of a beautiful woman being on top of a sky-scrapper, holding onto the spire for dear life. The thought that this is a remake of King Kong crosses my mind, but I realize it's different. The shot is done on green screen, but when seen on a monitor, it is complete with the sky-scraper in place.

The woman has long black hair that fans out in the wind and is dressed in a white glittery gown over which there is a jacket decorated with spider-web. It billows out under the hair in the most dramatic way, especially as she takes one hand to hold it in a tragic fashion over her brow before being torn away from the spire.

Loud cheering and applause greet this performance as the director yells "cut and print!" I find myself cheering with the rest, and am now in the company of a small group of young girls, all in their late teens, who are obviously big fans of the actress. They draw me into their conversation and when I tell them I used to do costumes like this, they practically mob me in their enthusiasm. They each want a jacket just like that!! So eager they are for this, they at first fail to see the actress herself come up to them.

I get to see the jacket close up and am rather disappointed to note that it's a very poor mock-up of what could have been a stunning garment. Strips of cheap shiny trim are glued to a the transparant fabric, and the style is totally wrong for the long elegant evening gown. None of this matters to the fans, who now cluster around the beautiful actress as she also tells of her disappointment in the way the jacket fits. Dramatically, she lifts her arms while explaining, "... and it's supposed to just billow out in the blast of cold air" throwing her arms wide, "but as you can see, it doesn't."

I say nothing, as in my mind I begin constructing the jacket as it is supposed to be, and go quietly away to start work on it.

SEARCHING FOR A WASHROOM AND DESIGNING A SPIDER JACKET

I remember two dreams from last night, and I know that they were smaller portions of much larger dreams. A word of warning - contains yukky and personal images:

Searching for a Washroom and Designing a Spider Jacket

I am in a large department store, in the woman's clothing section. Everything is very crowded around me not only with clothing racks but with women trying on this and that item, squabbling about garments. I wander off to a quieter space, one full of beautiful wedding gowns and other formal wear, and for an instant feel that I am no longer in a department store but backstage at a theatre. There's a particular dusty smell that is unique to theatres and that is what makes me sense the change.

Store or backstage, the women act in basically the same way, and I continue to try and find a quiet spot for myself. Suddenly, I feel the need to find a bathroom, and quickly go in search of one, which I find but it has a line of women waiting to also use it. I know that it will be very difficult for me to wait this out, and I immediately go looking for another washroom. "If I didn't know better," I think to myself, "I would think that this is a dream! But this can't be a dream, this is real!"

Finally, I am back by the wedding dresses and find a pail. Damned the consequences, I need to pee!! And this pail will do quite nicely. Just as I'm about to squat over it, I look across the aisle, and see a man in an army uniform doing the same thing. He has his pants down, just as I'm hiking up my skirts, and we both stare at each other for a moment. At the same time we just shrug, and squat. "Calls of Nature cannot be denied. What is seen cannot be unseen", crosses my mind. For some reason, I see traces of blood, as though I am having my period, and this worries me on several levels. Looking around, I see a discarded small garment, like a t-shirt, and use this to clean myself up with...

...At that moment I woke up finding that I indeed needed to find a washroom, but puzzled as to why I didn't recognize that I was dreaming. This was around 3:00 am. I fell back asleep very quickly, and sometime before getting up, I dreamed the following:

I am on a movie set, and the shot is of a beautiful woman being on top of a sky-scrapper, holding onto the spire for dear life. The thought that this is a remake of King Kong crosses my mind, but I realize it's different. The shot is done on green screen, but when seen on a monitor, it is complete with the sky-scraper in place.

The woman has long black hair that fans out in the wind and is dressed in a white glittery gown over which there is a jacket decorated with spider-web. It billows out under the hair in the most dramatic way, especially as she takes one hand to hold it in a tragic fashion over her brow before being torn away from the spire.

Loud cheering and applause greet this performance as the director yells "cut and print!" I find myself cheering with the rest, and am now in the company of a small group of young girls, all in their late teens, who are obviously big fans of the actress. They draw me into their conversation and when I tell them I used to do costumes like this, they practically mob me in their enthusiasm. They each want a jacket just like that!! So eager they are for this, they at first fail to see the actress herself come up to them.

I get to see the jacket close up and am rather disappointed to note that it's a very poor mock-up of what could have been a stunning garment. Strips of cheap shiny trim are glued to a the transparant fabric, and the style is totally wrong for the long elegant evening gown. None of this matters to the fans, who now cluster around the beautiful actress as she also tells of her disappointment in the way the jacket fits. Dramatically, she lifts her arms while explaining, "... and it's supposed to just billow out in the blast of cold air" throwing her arms wide, "but as you can see, it doesn't."

I say nothing, as in my mind I begin constructing the jacket as it is supposed to be, and go quietly away to start work on it.

MUSEUM, THEATRE AND YOUNG PERFORMERS

My dream last night was very chaotic, but I also feel that in spite of waking up a couple of times, the same dream progressed throughout the night. Here is what I remember:

I am walking into an old mansion. It is set up like a museum, with some rooms being clean and bright, with all the displays set out nicely, and other rooms were old, dark, dusty, and cluttered. There are some people with me, and the one that I remember the most is a flamboyant young man (reminds me of Liberace, or more recently, the man who played Q on ST:TNG). He is acting like a tour guide and for some reason picks me out of the group to interact with. He is dressed in a beautiful dark peacock blue costume straight out of the 1700's. Instead of a wig that would have been worn at that time, his thick black hair is slicked back with just a couple of curls carelessly falling on his forehead.

Eventually, I realize that I am not part of the group, but an administrator of the facility. A clipboard and pen materialize in my hand and I go about checking the displays. In spite of the man's dramatic comedy, I find his antics very annoying and do my best to ignore them. In time, we find ourselves alone, and he takes off his coat. As he does so, I become fascinated at the construction of it, and examine it more closely. He is all too happy to have me do so and holds it out for me. I remark on the double lining, the intricate pockets and the neat hand stitching. It is obvious to me that it is the original thread and workmanship. The only glitch is around one vertical pocket where the stitching is done in white thread (making it very obvious against the dark blue), which is uneven, and clearly done by someone who did not know how to use a needle. The man exclaims that this patch has always bothered him.

I go out into another room and see a group of people setting up a stage. They are carrying a beautiful French Provincial style couch and set it in place. The stage is covered with rich dark red velvet curtains that are trimmed with gold, several layers of them, and right in the middle they open up to create a throne-like setting. Behind the throne is displayed some Coat of Arms banner in royal blue and gold, and two couches are on either side of the throne. In spite of such a regal setting, I know that all this is for a comedy sketch. I really admire the work that has gone into this.

Much happens that I do not remember, until I now find myself with another group of people in what appears to be a hotel convention space. There are many people there, and once again, I recognize myself being in some administrative role. I think back on what I have just done, making notations of artists and song titles on a form, and now I am on my way to confer with a collegue.

I pass a group of young people - in their late teens and early 20's - and see (ready for this?) Justine Beiber and Selena Gomez relaxing there. Selena calls out to me about the list I have just made, joking how one title, something about "making sex" is next to her name. I smile at her and tell her to behave - that it's only a name of the song.

They all laugh as I hurry away, but I'm struck by the totally bizzare image of those two appearing in my dream, and chuckle that this could happen.

****
Too bad I can't remember how the two dreams connected - there was so much more there!

My dream last night was very chaotic, but I also feel that in spite of waking up a couple of times, the same dream progressed throughout the night. Here is what I remember:

I am walking into an old mansion. It is set up like a museum, with some rooms being clean and bright, with all the displays set out nicely, and other rooms were old, dark, dusty, and cluttered. There are some people with me, and the one that I remember the most is a flamboyant young man (reminds me of Liberace, or more recently, the man who played Q on ST:TNG). He is acting like a tour guide and for some reason picks me out of the group to interact with. He is dressed in a beautiful dark peacock blue costume straight out of the 1700's. Instead of a wig that would have been worn at that time, his thick black hair is slicked back with just a couple of curls carelessly falling on his forehead.

Eventually, I realize that I am not part of the group, but an administrator of the facility. A clipboard and pen materialize in my hand and I go about checking the displays. In spite of the man's dramatic comedy, I find his antics very annoying and do my best to ignore them. In time, we find ourselves alone, and he takes off his coat. As he does so, I become fascinated at the construction of it, and examine it more closely. He is all too happy to have me do so and holds it out for me. I remark on the double lining, the intricate pockets and the neat hand stitching. It is obvious to me that it is the original thread and workmanship. The only glitch is around one vertical pocket where the stitching is done in white thread (making it very obvious against the dark blue), which is uneven, and clearly done by someone who did not know how to use a needle. The man exclaims that this patch has always bothered him.

I go out into another room and see a group of people setting up a stage. They are carrying a beautiful French Provincial style couch and set it in place. The stage is covered with rich dark red velvet curtains that are trimmed with gold, several layers of them, and right in the middle they open up to create a throne-like setting. Behind the throne is displayed some Coat of Arms banner in royal blue and gold, and two couches are on either side of the throne. In spite of such a regal setting, I know that all this is for a comedy sketch. I really admire the work that has gone into this.

Much happens that I do not remember, until I now find myself with another group of people in what appears to be a hotel convention space. There are many people there, and once again, I recognize myself being in some administrative role. I think back on what I have just done, making notations of artists and song titles on a form, and now I am on my way to confer with a collegue.

I pass a group of young people - in their late teens and early 20's - and see (ready for this?) Justine Beiber and Selena Gomez relaxing there. Selena calls out to me about the list I have just made, joking how one title, something about "making sex" is next to her name. I smile at her and tell her to behave - that it's only a name of the song.

They all laugh as I hurry away, but I'm struck by the totally bizzare image of those two appearing in my dream, and chuckle that this could happen.

****
Too bad I can't remember how the two dreams connected - there was so much more there!

ABORIGINAL DREAMTIME

I am in the presence of some men. One of them is obviously the leader. He is tall, muscular, hair and beard that is almost white, which is very striking against his dark brown skin. They are all dressed in loincloths, and the leader is holding a staff that is almost as tall as he is.

I feel that I should not be there, that this meeting is for men only, and yet I am brought in with great ceremony, the men forming an honour guard as I walk. I am told that it is necessary to initiate me into this particular group. I protest, saying that I would be breaking all the traditions that stretch back thousands of years if this occurs. It is with some sadness that they agree, but say that it is necessary, indeed, imperative that it be done. If it is not done, they will stop. I find it curious that they should use this expression, "they will stop", but I do understand the meaning.

I remember nothing of the ceremony and ritual other than being brought before the fire in the very darkest hours of the night.

Eventually, I regain consciousness and it is now day, the sun blazing above me. I am alone and I walk towards the small village where I know I will find the leader. I welcome the cool shadows the trees and huts cast, as I do the water one of the men brings me. Once again, I am taken to the leader and he asks me to sit close to him as we share a meal. He tells me that it is not yet over, and that after I rest, I must complete the ceremony by running around the parimeter of the village three times. I worry about that, because I know I don't run well, and express this concern to him. He waves it aside as inconsequential.

It is difficult, this exercise I have not done in so many years, but I push myself, and finally, more walking than running, I complete my task and collapse again by his side. It occurs to me that I do not even know his name, and once able to speak, I ask how I should address him. For some reason, I think "witchdoctor", but that does not sound right.

He looks at me, his expression as unreadable as that of a stone, and whispers it to me. It is a name of power that thrills right through me, and immediately leaves my memory. As though some peril or danger has passed, the mood suddenly lightens and now there is laughter and joy as the other men come in with more food and drink as they welcome me into their company. I look at the leader and see his face creased with a warm smile of welcome.