FEEDING A TIGER (Nap Dream)

I am in a different apartment, one that is on the ground floor of a beautiful white stone house.  The apartment occupies two levels, with the lower one being in the basement.  My son, who is much younger, is living with me.  The basement level is bright with the white stone, but that is where a menagerie is kept:  a snake, some lizards, a couple of s and a large tiger.  Even though I have been around him for a long time, he still makes me nervous, because he, like the kittens, is not confined to a cage but roams freely.

Some time passes, and I realize something disturbing:  I cannot find the kittens anywhere.  Another day – and I suddenly remember that I have totally forgotten to feed the animals!  Frantically, I begin to hunt for my purse, and once I find it , I head for the door, just as my son is walking in, and the tiger is coming up the stairs.  I quickly push my son back out the door which I lock after myself. 

Then I change my mind.  I give the wallet to my son and tell him to buy a large – and I do mean large – bag of dry cat food at the corner store and bring it back as quickly as possible.  Then I go back inside.  The tiger is lying on the floor in front of the couch, where I go to sit.  I tell him food is coming, and actually reach down to pet his head.  A rumble starts deep within him as he leans into my hand…

1920s MYSTERY

I find myself in a large mansion that is full of people, who are gathered for a dinner party.  The crystals from the chandeliers and the glassware sparkle in the lights.  Everyone is dressed up in formal attire, formal but very old-fashioned – I recognize the styles of the 1920’s.  Of course, there are many others who are attired in the uniforms of maids and servants.  They provide the somber black and white contrast to the bright colours worn by others.

One woman seeks me out.  She’s dressed in a blue gown that sets off her blond hair, and I recognize her as the hostess and lady of this house.  She comes up to me and I see she’s angry, very angry.  She tells me I must leave, that I do not belong here.  “You will not be taking this away from me!”, she announces forcefully.  I am at a loss for words, because I do not understand what she’s talking about.  In fact, I am now puzzled and confused as to what I’m doing here.  I back away from her and go into a darkened, empty hallway to get my bearings.

Now I begin to notice other things – for all the glitter and sparkle, the building is rather shabby and in ill repair.  I am dressed in modern clothing, and … and floating two feet off the ground!!

Everything blurs, as though its fast forwarded, it’s now daylight and I find the woman, wearing another blue dress, sitting outside drinking tea.  I approach her, still floating not walking, and again, she becomes angry at the sight of me.  I try and tell her that I’m not a threat to her and her inheritance and that I’m more than willing to “abdicate” my place here.  For some reason, that makes her even angrier.  I float away from her, but find that I’m unable to leave the property – that something is binding me to this place.  It becomes very confusing, because at the same time that I’m seeing this, I am also experiencing all the memories of my “real” life, as though I somehow got transplanted into a by-gone era.  

I know that I must find some way to convince this woman that I’m not out the threat she thinks I am, because that is the only way I’ll find my way back home.

AMONG THE GEARS AND WHEELS

I am in front of a subway entrance.  People are going up and down the stairs when I notice one man, who also appears to be looking at me.  He looks strange – his skin and clothes,  worker’s coveralls,  are the same shade of brown, what hair escapes from beneath his hat is also brown and wavy.   He approaches me and asks if I would like to join him on an interesting journey.

There is no hesitation in me.  I agree immediately, and together we go down the stairs to the subway platform.  He leads me through the throng of people who are waiting for the next train, and straight off the platform into the darkness of the tunnel.   We are now walking in single file along a narrow ledge until he reaches a specific door, which he opens and waves me through.

Here I begin to lose sense of perspective, and this hits me hard as he opens yet another door after our short walk along a dimly-lit corridor.  The world that opens up before me is one of gears and wheels, moving smoothly within one another.  I lose perspective – have we shrunk to a tiny size and are within the mechanism of a wind-up clock? Or is everything really this gigantic!?  I stare open-mouthed at this extraordinary scene and wonder what all this runs.  My companion grins at my amazement, and points up.  It’s then that I notice that all the wheels and gears are full of people, dressed even as he is!  They balance and swing from one level to another without any fear or concern, and they’re all busy working, cleaning, shining  and oiling to make sure everything runs smoothly.

Grinning, my companion holds out his hand to me, and leads me by a convoluted way ever upwards.  I now see that there are little roads that are purposely set out among all the moving machinery, and in between these cogs, wheels and gears are full of living spaces inhabited by the people – neat, small, shaped in odd ways to fit the space, but fully adapted with all conveniences of living.  All these tend to be on the lower levels of this incredible world.  As we climb higher, we begin to meet more people busy with their tasks.

We stop for a moment at one level, and I watch another man do something that seems to be particularly hazardous – he is concentrating on putting certain decals onto a wheel that seems just out of reach.  He stretches himself while holding on just by his fingertips to a smooth metallic ridge, as he neatly and quickly slaps on the dark brown circles onto the moving edge of the wheel.  I suddenly understand that this is done only for bragging rights, it is a sport these people practice. 

I feel somewhat overwhelmed and ask my companion to take me back to my world, which he does without question.  For a few seconds, as I stand on the subway platform, my world seems very alien.  He stands with me until I get my balance again and then, with a warm hug and smile, he melts back into the tunnel darkness.

PARTY, PARTY, PARTY!!

I am working in an office in downtown Hamilton, right across from Gore Park.  The atmosphere is more of a boisterous get-together rather than professional.  As we’re all talking and joking, one of the women says that she’s supposed to leave now to go to her new second job.  We all wish her well as she bounces out,  and a few minutes later we see her across the street on the other side of the park.  She has a cart filled with cans of paint, brushes, rollers, and other items needed to do painting jobs. 

I now notice she’s standing in front of three identical rounded doors.  They’re all painted black.  Before she starts painting them,  I join her, and we select a lovely vibrant red colour.  I pick up a brush too and together  we begin to paint “the town red”!  We are then joined by another member of the office team, a young man, who keeps us entertained as he practices his sales pitch on us – a very dramatic and Shakespearean performance indeed!

Time to go home - which is the last apartment I lived in – and I’m surprised to see the wooden stairs leading up to the kitchen filled with people, filker friends!  I recognize Howard, Sally, Jane, Wayne and Heather, among others.  Surprised and a bit disturbed at this unexpected onslaught, I quickly try and think of what’s in my fridge and freezer, and how I can possibly feed them all.  No one seems to be too concerned, telling me they all brought plenty for everyone.  I notice that they also brought all their instruments and soon the living room is filled with drums, guitars, flutes, lap harps, music stands and bodies.  Singing starts as I go into the kitchen and begin to prepare sandwiches. 

Suddenly tired, I actually leave all this and take a short nap – which turns out to be longer than expected.  Howard wakes me up and I express shock and dismay to see even more people arriving.  I’m also shocked that I had slept for so long!  He assures me that all is well, I don’t need to worry about feeding everyone because now they’ve ordered in.  As I walk among all the people, in a much enlarged living room that now spills out onto a huge patio, I sustain a new shock.  Below me, on yet another patio that’s attached to the house, is another party going on.  Here I recognize Helene, Annie and Suzanne, who are celebrating some Jewish observance with a joyous dinner.  I go to greet and hug them, expressing my delight at seeing them all again. 

Is it any surprise that now  a group of Scadians appear, adding to an ever increasing blur of people, tables, food, laughter and song?  Though it all, I get a glimpse that dark-haired girl still wielding her paint brush, as she puts the last finishing touches on the three doors that stand now, bright and bold red against the darkening of the evening.

I laugh and throwing all cares to the wind, I walk around, finding all my friends of the past to reconnect with and enjoy the Party of all Parties!  

Nap Dream of Squirrels and Guns and Roses

So, I laid down for a nap, and was instantly transported into a dream:

I am in my apartment waking up from a nap.  My son is there and I keep asking him whether the squirrel managed to get in.  That's because I was distinctly remembering just before taking the nap, a squirrel was trying to get into the apartment through the patio door.  He checks all around and tells me that the door had been closed all along, so no, the animal did not get in.

At that moment, someone knocks on the door and he goes to answer it.  I'm still slowly getting my bearings and sitting on the couch, but get up quickly as Juliana Ellement comes in with a beautiful little girl - classic blue eyes and curly blond hair under a woolen hat.  She's wearing a red winter coat.  Somehow there's a feeling of very old-world charm about her, as though she just stepped out of a 1945 movie.  The little girl is carrying a home made birthday card for me, and says, "Hello, Grandma, see what I made for you?"

We fall to talking and she also shows me a child's toy from that era - a plastic six-shooter and a pair of handcuffs.  Somehow that too triggers a memory in me of a dream (within a dream) - just an image of a single red rose laid against a silver gun.

"I just dreamed about that", I say to my son and Julie, "But it was more a 'gun and rose' type of scenario.  Yeah, guns and roses!  And we all laugh, because that was one of my son's favourite bands way back when...

FEEDING A DEER

 

I am with a man who is a blend of my father (as a much younger man and my brother.  We are on a road trip in his car and drive into a heavily wooded area.  After some time hiking and just enjoying the day, we make our way home.  Once we get there, I’m surprised to find that we have a small deer in the trunk.  The man tells me it’s injured and we need to keep it for a couple of days.

This disturbes me because I know the best thing to do is to take the deer back out into the woods, or at least take him to the vet, but I'm too caught up in the moment and help bring the injured animal in.  He is very compliant and gentle,  and looking closely, I can see the fawn spots have just started to disappear.  We bring him into my bedroom and the beautiful animal immediately settles down by my bed. 

I sense that a couple of days pass without incident and I’m again in the car with the man.  As we’re driving away, I suddenly remember that I neglected to put out food for the deer.  I’m panicking and even at the risk of being late to my appointment, I know that we must turn back and take care of this.  Without a word, he turns around and heads back to the house.  I race up the stairs and into my room.  The deer has moved under my bed by now, and I’m relieved to see that he appears all right, but the water dish is completely empty.  I fill it up, make sure that there are a variety of grasses and biscuits (!) there. 

I now finally have the courage to reach out my hand and touch the velvety soft nose.  He sniffs my hand and melts into it, obviously enjoying the affection.  Suddenly making up my mind, I call for the man and tell him it’s wrong for us to keep this animal like this, and he must be set free.  I turn to the deer and, addressing him directly, I tell him as much as we love him, we must release him.  Looking into his large liquid dark eyes, I see that he understands and struggles to get up.

Once again in the car,  things shift.  The incident with the deer is now in memory, and I (suddenly I’m alone and driving the car)  am heading to visit my son in Toronto.  I arrive at a large house in the university district and see that he’s living in a student house. 

And here the memory of my adventures there have evaporated – darn!!

The Futuristic Apartments

I am in a new apartment building.  It’s huge, almost like a small town on its own, and the apartments within it are very large, open concept units.  Very clean and almost Oriental in their simplicity, the apartments also offer suitable comfortable furniture.  There is a sense that all conveniences such as shopping, entertainment and medical facilities are on site, as well.

I come home one day and am surprised to find someone in my apartment.  It’s someone I have known many years ago, and had an emotional attachment to.  I never expected to see him again, and I’m not sure how to react to his presence.  Sad to say, I’m taken in by his double-talk again and reluctantly let him stay – just for a few days.  I’m also vaguely surprised that he’s still wearing his one suit that he had back then. 

It doesn’t take long, a matter of a few days, before he confesses that he’s run up a huge bill on my phone and that he’ll not be able to pay it.  My instant reaction is to be very upset, and as he walks away, I suddenly realize that he’s lied to me again.  I catch up with him and inform him that it’s impossible for him to do that because I have an unlimited long-distance plan on my phone, and demand to know exactly where he’s going to leave me in the hole.  He plays the wounded victim wrongly accused, but I would have none of it, and tell him to leave immediately.  He disappears.

In the hallway I encounter a medical team who is rushing an Oriental woman to medical care.  A young boy, obviously her son, is sitting on the gurney and crying.  I instantly recognize him and his mother.  It’s Hoojung, someone I used to work with at the Hamilton Folk Arts Heritage Centre.  I rush over to her, but she’s barely coherent.  She appears to be totally disconsolate, weeping madly and unable to acknowledge my presence.  I don’t hold up the team any longer.

Going back to the apartment, I pass another apartment that has its door open.  It’s occupied by a very handsome man and beautiful woman, and they ask me to join them.  It’s obvious that some erotic games are played there and on a spur of the moment, I decide to do just that.  I also sense that there’s been a shift in the reality of the dream, and that my apartment is no longer there, effectively leaving me homeless.  I’m not distressed by this, but am determined to find another apartment in the morning.  We lie down in bed for the night, with the man in the middle and the women on either side of him.  It’s then that I notice that the apartment has changed again, becoming more like a storage unit, with the bed facing the wide open door.  Also, the lights are still on, and I jump out of bed to turn them off.  I become a bit confused looking for the light switch, at which point three other women enter the apartment and begin to make themselves at home there.  They all take off their clothes and settle down on the deep carpet which is now sporting a variety of cushions and decorative coverlets.  For some reason, one  climbs up on the bed to adjust something above it, and I cannot resist – I smartly smack her butt a couple of times.  Her eyes go wide with mock surprise and everyone else giggles. 

It’s obvious, though, that it’s only a place to sleep this night, so we again all settle down and do just that.

PAGAN APARTMENTS

I had a very poor night.  Insomnia hit me hard again and I struggled to grab what little sleep I did.  And finally, after getting up at 6:00, I lay down on the couch to wait until the kettle boiled.  Naturally, now that I wasn't trying, I fell asleep and straight into a dream:

I have just moved in an apartment building that has a large community room.  I think how wonderful it will be to hold Red Tent meetings there, and arrange with a super to do just that.  I tell her that the next one planned will have my friend, Juliana, as the guest speaker and she’ll be doing a workshop on bead crafting.  The super puts me on the schedule and tells me that she too may attend.

After being away for a while (it feels as though I’m working in an office again), I come back home and am afraid that I am too late.  I go by the community room and see that it is occupied but not by the women I expected.  At first I see only one young woman, Brandi, who is doing some sort of acrobatic dancing to the beat of drums.  She twists and turns, drops to the floor and rolls, springing back up by way of a backflip with amazing agility, her dark hair flying wildly as she flips and spins. 

Around this dance, the other people, who were in shadows, emerge.  There is a middle-aged couple, a robust man dressed in a Viking outfit, and a woman who in contrast is very tall and thin.  She’s wearing a turquoise-blue robe, and her long silver hair is done up in a tall pony-tail.  They seem to be the leaders.  There are about a dozen more people, all dressed in various robes and garb, all chanting something deep and resonant.  I long to join them but know I cannot break the Circle, so I back out into the hallway, which is also full of people dressed in robes and garb.  I ask one man, garbed in skins and leathers, and decorated with runes along his forehead, what is happening.  He responds that the two leaders are the embodiment of Deities and the ritual they’re performing is one of Deep Healing. He then informs me that this ritual will be done again in about an hour.

I need to be there, and quickly go up the stairs to my apartment to get changed into my robe.  Along the way, I see the stairs cluttered with all sorts of accessories – belts, pouches, daggers, circlets – as folks, who are also sitting along the steps, are getting ready.  I smile as one man turns to thank me as I hand him his pouch and belt.  I turn to walk down the hallway to my apartment and stop in amazement – each doorway is decorated with wreathes and vines of fresh yellow flowers, and before each door stands a brand new besom, a crystal bowl with a candle and an athame.  These arrangements are that much more vibrant because the electric lights are turned off.  As I slowly make my way to my apartment, I feel as though the entire building has been turned into a temple. 

Inside I’m facing yet another shock – my ex-husband is sitting in the living room.  He’s very tense and upset, wondering what took me so long.  He then demands that I pack my things and move out immediately and can’t seem to understand my reluctance.  I tell him this is where I belong and he can leave anytime he wants, while I go and change into my robes, choosing the green lace one.  As I slip on my emerald circlet, I tell him that I need to attend this ritual, that my soul is crying out for it.  Inside, I’m puzzled over two things – why he’s there in the first place, and where did the green robes come from?

Back out in the stunning hallway, all decorated with Ostara symbols, I make my way to the community hall again.  Making a mental note to contact Juliana and reschedule with her, I take my place in the procession that now winds through the building…

SCI-FI ADVENTURE

Last night’s dream was a science fiction/horror epic!  I hope I can capture it here:

I’m camping in a cabin – the grounds look very much like Mansfield Camping Site, where WiccanFest is held.  There is a young man who is camping next to me and we become friends.  More than friends, actually, there seems to be a huge connection between us, but nothing romantic.  We spend a lot of time talking, exploring metaphysical mysteries, and in this way discover that something very bad is happening.  Whatever this “bad” is still remains to be seen, but we’re both getting visions of a man and a woman.

From the outside, they look like a normal couple, but the more we examine these visions, the more we see beyond the “normal”, since they now exhibit bright blue spiky hair and glowing eyes.  They’re always together arm in arm and they’re always laughing – but nothing they say is really funny.  In fact it’s very hurtful.

Suddenly, I look up and see a huge moose coming towards us. There’s something about it that reminds me of the Man/Woman duo.  We get up and back away, and now see another moose coming to join the first.  Before it can get to us, however, another man, a fellow-camper, runs up to it and stabs it deeply in the left eye with a sharp stick.  It’s horrible to watch it writhe in agony, but we’re happy to see it die.  The first animal also starts to react with bucking and bellowing, until both of them lie still.  Someone in the background announces that there will be moose steaks for supper this night, but we all nix the idea, saying that we don’t know how deeply this bad energy runs through the animals.  We decide to cremate them instead.

While the fire roars skyward, my companion and I suddenly see something behind the flames, and go to investigate.  It’s like a portal, and on the other side we see a  dark urban landscape.  We step through this portal and find ourselves on an empty street.  Above us are tall skyscrapers as far as the eye can see.  As we walk towards a dimly lit intersection, we see the Man and Woman coming towards us.  They’re laughing and joking, still arm in arm, and I suddenly recognize the influence that brought them to life – they look very much like a couple of characters from the upcoming movie, “The Hunger Games”.  But there really is nothing funny about them; they’re more like caricatures, or malevolent spirits that have taken on human forms.  I name them, “The Mad Couple”.

My companion and I run the other way.  The streets have no one else on them, and although we run, The Mad Couple behind us are strolling leisurely, but are always the same distance away from us.  We cannot outrun them.  As we turn another corner, we see yet another portal and jump right through it.  Immediately, we are immersed in a raging blizzard of ice and snow.  We find ourselves standing on a subway or train platform that is packed full of people.  It is so crowded that we can barely move.  I feel the platform shift beneath us, and we all are pitched forward.  It’s obvious that it broke from the weight of all the people and the ice that has piled up on us all. 

Slipping and sliding to the empty platform facing us, my companion and I finally make it to relative safety.  We do not see the Mad Couple any more, but know they will eventually find us.  As we scramble through the treacherous blizzard and footing, we find a covered tunnel, and as soon as we enter it, we emerge back at the camp grounds.

The carcasses are burned to ash, and it is now night time.  A few people see us emerge out of nowhere, and although they are startled, they listen to our story with open minds, and then run to gather everyone together again.  Another fire is built and we begin to sing “We All Come from the Goddess” as we join hands. 

Sure enough, The Mad Couple emerges not too long afterwards, but their smiles become frozen as they encounter a large body of people all singing Goddess Praise.  The way behind them closes and they become trapped.  Softly, someone begins to laugh, and we all take up that joyful sound, until everyone around the fire is laughing, hugging, loving, and totally ignoring the strangers, who now just diminish and fade into nothingness.

  

DISARMING BOMBS AND READING TO CHILDREN

Just a few images from last night. 

Most of the dreams involved me being with a group of men and we’re trying to disarm bombs that are all around us.  Everything is dark and gloomy, and we’re dressed in heavy Kevlar vests and face visors.  As we make our way systematically undoing this damage, we come across what appears to be a resort.  There are people lounging around in the midst of upturned earth and rocks, with very inadequate housing.  I walk into a room occupied by children of all ages.  I am struck by their apathy, they don’t seem interested in anything, although this room is filled with all sorts of colourful books and toys.

I decide that it’s time for me to relax for a bit, and as I sit down, I say, “I would very much like to be your grandmother for a little while.  Would you accept me as your grandmother?”  The little ones, 3-5 year olds stir and quickly walk over to me.  The older ones also sit up.  I reach for a book and prepare to read from it. 

Inside, I’m weeping, and hope that through the story, I’ll be able to bring a sense of wonder, hope and magick to their colourless lives. 

School for Girls, Sewing Pouches, Dodging Bulldozers

I'm having a difficult time sorting through the dreams I had last night.  I think it will be easier to just list them  as three separate dreams, since at this point I'm not sure if they were all related or not.  Here we go:

Dream 1 - School for Girls

I am a teacher in a school for girls.  The school is a beautiful campus that feels very Mediterranian - cool stone walls, archways that are overgrown with vines, short series of steps that takes one into shady gardens as well as into the cool interior rooms.  There are terraces from which the ocean can be seen in a distance as a blue and silver ribbon.

It is at such a terrace that I'm sitting with other teachers, and we are discussing an arts project that the girls have been working on.  I am very impressed with many of the submissions, which include three-dimensional pop-ups and use of many different media.  Suddenly, one teacher screams and throws down a piece.  She is shocked beyond words!  She is aghast and mortified!  One of the students dared to use the word "uterus" in her work!!  Such language is totally unacceptable, she states, fanning herself indignantly.  The rest of us look at each other and begin to laugh.  Soon some of the girls join us, including a lovely olive-skinned one with long black hair, who is the "offending" one.  After some self-conscious giggling, a chant begins, "Uterus!  Uterus!"  Before long, we form a bunny-hop line and begin to dance all around the terrace, and around the single teacher, who continues to be deeply offended and embarrassed by our bold display.

Dream 2 - Sewing Pouches

I am sitting by a sewing machine and am given a quantity of white muslin fabric scraps, and asked to make as many small draw-string pouches as I can.  I begin my work, but am concerned that the fabric isn't strong enough to hold anything securely.  It is transparent,  beautifully soft, and flows through my fingers like sensually.  I decide that it's not my place to question this, only to make what I've been asked.

The work progresses well, and soon I have a stack of pouches of various sizes made, and begin to thread the draw-strings through the casings.  At this stage I am joined by my friend, Charles, who tells me that he's heard these pouches will be used to hold some special corn.  He takes me to another room where I see sacks of the golden grain.  What surprises me the most is that some of it is wrapped in bubble-wrap.  Charles shows me some markings on the bubble-wrap, and states that this indicates this corn contains a special "code", and is very precious.  I get the impression of some kind of genetic code that is designed to be of great benefit to humanity.

Dream 3 - Dodging Bulldozers

Charles and I are now walking along an empty road that soon leads into a heavy construction zone.  Both sides of the street are lined with huge bulldozers.  There are no houses anywhere, only vague impression of wilderness beyond this.  We also become aware that there are no people around - at least at first.  About half-way through the construction zone, I am startled suddenly to see the huge tractor move, blocking my way.  A man driving it yells at me to be careful, and I know that he's just as startled to see me as I am to be in this situation.  Charles stands behind me with his hands on my shoulders, ready to move me out of the way instantly.

As we stand there, we see each machine, bulldozer and truck, neatly parked, shut down.  The operators of these vehicles get out and form an escort line through which Charles and I pass safely.

Shape-shifting Toy, Transfusion, and Exorcism

Through the night, it was a mish-mash of images, and I'm only able to isolate a couple of them clearly:

I feel I'm in the midst of some sort of party.  There is definite feeling of celebration, and it also has an old-world feel to it.  Some women are wearing old-fashioned kerchiefs around their heads and tend to congregate together while the men do the same.  But it's all very happy and noisy, with lots of food being passed around.

I leave the party and head to another part of the house - I'm not quite sure if it's to the basement or out to the patio - to spend time with the children.  There are lots of toys around, suitable for all ages, but one catches my eye in particular.  It's a beautifully crafted doll-house, about three floors high, made of wood and lovingly painted.  Beside it is a wooden car - and now I see that although it's wood, painted in medium Wedgwood blue, it doesn't keep its shape.  This block of wood keeps morphing into different shaped vehicles, and when I try to touch it my hand passes right through it, although I can still feel some substance to it.  It's almost as though it's trying to make up its mind as to what shape it likes best!  I watch this for a few minutes, realizing I'm seeing something brand new and wonderful here.

There is a sense that time has passed and I am in some sort of medical facility.  I am one of three people who are going through a procedure involving a series of tubes being attached to the right shoulder and from there to the left hip. Somehow it's meant to take the blood from one place and recycle it into another.  The tubes are very small, about half the size of normal IV tubes.  The nurse is having trouble with my shoulder tube, as she tries to get the connection firm.  She finally succeeds, and I watch as the clear interior becomes filled with rich ruby-red blood.  I feel no pain at all, and in fact, am told that I can stroll around and not be confined to the bed.  I walk into a small room where I have a friend waiting, and as we talk, she suddenly points to a fountain of blood shooting from my shoulder, soaking the fiber acoustic ceiling tiles.  I feel totally annoyed with the incompetence of the nurse, clamp down on the end of the tube, and go looking for someone who can do the job properly.

Coming through a blur of other images, I now find myself in a Catholic church.  Some kind of ceremony is about to take place and I am led to the front of the altar.  There are priests dressed in traditional robes of green and gold, and I am particularly struck by one of them - he's a short man, bald and wearing glasses.  He conveys a feeling of mild serenity and composure, but there's just *something* about him that warrants my attention.  He smiles at me, and I ask him what his function is here.  He tells me that he's an exorcist and he's been called in to deal with a particularly difficult case of possession.

I suddenly wonder what I'm doing here - I'm so outside my comfort zone! At that moment the ceremony begins, and I find myself drawn into the entire ritual, since there are so many elements are familiar to me.  I do not see the possessed person, but get an impression it's a young man. I have my hand on the shoulder in front of me, her hand is on the person ahead of her, and two other people complete this line.  Someone to my right actually takes pictures of this, but I'm barely aware of this as I concentrate on the line of healing energy that is being conveyed through us.  Whoever is taking the pictures suddenly exclaims, "It's actually visible!", and shows us the picture:  It shows a line of five people, hand on the shoulder of the person ahead of each, and we are all engulfed in a silvery light that streams to the exorcist-priest who then is channeling it the "patient".

An Unexpected Wedding, Catching a Fish, Finding the Door

There were two distinct dreams last night.

Dream 1:

I am in a small chapel and am ready to perform a wedding.  The couple walks in and I am totally amazed to recognize a couple of my friends, Raven and Richard, and right behind them, another friend Chris.  Raven is dressed in a simple white gown and has a crown of flowers on her head.  I'm confused as to who's actually getting married here, and it's established that it's Raven and Chris.  He is dressed in an SCA style tunic and pants, and also has a crown made of leaves, acorns and wheat stalks on his head.  Richard is acting as a witness.

I ask them for their license and there's a moment of confusion until it's located.  Then the process is repeated when I ask for the rings, and finally, I ask them what kind of ceremony they want, and am actually surprised when the response is "civil", because with the way they are dressed and knowing them, I would have thought that they would have said, "Pagan Handfasting".  I ask them to wait while I get everything ready.

All the while I am still shaking my head at this coincidence and am kind of annoyed that they had not let me know earlier.  It takes me less than a minute to set out the registry table, and we're all set to go.

Dream 2:

I am in a church - I get a distinct impression that it's a Catholic church.  It's very modern and bright, and there is some sort of event happening there in the community hall.  There are a lot of people milling about and the tables are all set out with refreshments.

I wander down a less-crowded hallway into another room and am surprised to see my son - but at a much younger age, he appears to be around 8 years old - running around an empty room.  It's empty, but there is furniture around close to the walls.  On the small bookshelf is a large glass bowl with a goldfish swimming around in it.  Just as I walk in we're both startled to see each other an he bumps into the bookshelf, and the bowl goes flying to the floor, breaks and the water spills.  The fish is flopping on the floor while I yell for him to get me another bowl, which somehow materializes on the table.  I catch the fish, which is considerably larger than I realized, and as quickly as we can fill the bowl with water and I release it.  I'm worried that perhaps the water straight from the tap would hurt it, but I can actually see and feel that the distress is passing from this creature as it begins to placidly swim around.

I take my son out and as is the ways of dreams, he blends in with the crowd and I continue to try and find out what it is I'm doing in this Church.  Wandering around, I see some posters on the walls advertising some musical and theatrical productions, and mention that I used to do such graphic design work.  My words are heard by a beautiful black woman, who runs off to tell someone else.  She comes back and tells me that there may be a place for me here, designing publications and posters.  I feel very happy with that and we agree to meet further on this.

Now I want to leave the building, but realize I cannot find a door that leads outside.  Eventually, I see the doors, but they're in a lobby that's not accessible from where I was standing.  The lobby is below me by some four feet.  I see a reception desk there with an older woman staffing it.  I quickly make the decision that wandering around would not serve my needs any more.  Coming to the edge of that wall, I simply jump down, and march out the door.

Outside it's a beautiful day.  The late afternoon sun plays its gold light on the lush green grass and leaves. There are many people wandering out there too, and there is evidence of many picnic spots being enjoyed.  I take a deep breath of freedom, suddenly feeling as though I have somehow escaped confinement.