oneiros

I’m in a house looking out a glass window or am I in the front yard looking at locate? I think it’s  in the yard. There is a possum, bloated and frozen, in mid run beside a flowering bush that has lost all its bloom and foliage. Is the possum frozen in fear? Or is it dead?  Or stuffed? Beside the possum is a gazelle in mid run equally frozen. And to the side of the gazelle,  lying on its belly with a paw outstretched in front of the low gate barring the exit, there is a mountain lion or puma or some large cat of similar coloring. Equally frozen. I wonder, “Are they dead?” and then I think what could kill a possum, a gazelle  and a lion?  The lion  begins to move slowly. As it does I see children crouched in hiding on the other side of the lion all within the gate. I see their fear and I want to help them. Their eyes are wide and they look desperate. I am in the house now looking out of them. Did I move? Was it always in the house? I don’t know but I run out the front door. Just as they

I am in my childhood home, in mom’s room. C is there and no one else. I walk into the bedroom, where  I experienced so much abuse at the hands of my stepfather.. C. is newly showered. He looks at me and there is no protection in his eyes, no hardness.  He opens his arms and I step into his  embrace. There is forgiveness and nothing to forgive. As we hug, I feel deepening layers of healing and reparation. The past is the past. I lean into the strength of his arms and chest, breathing in the scent of him. Home. I am home.. I realize that he was right when he said, “Some connections maybe too big to be realized on this plane.” We would complicate it in the waking world with our desires and insecurities but here it’s pure and clear and beautiful.  I didn’t fail in my love for him. I couldn’t. It’s just not mine to know the trajectory of growth our connection inspired in him. I let go. The dream fades. I wake.

I am in a room with several other people. It’s an art workshop I think. There is a large mirror with an ornate frame that reflects  your future when you look into it. There is a woman, dark haired, tall, strong of spirit and a bit older than me, who is running the workshop and inviting people to look in the mirror. Three people do so before it is my turn, A young man with short hair and a traditional upbringing, sees himself as a painter. His whole body sheds the weight of trying to be something he is not. He is a painter and now he can be what he is. Next a beautiful, strong woman with ebony skin and penetrating eyes steps forward, she sees herself holding an ancient and elaborate map rolled into a scroll across her shoulder. In the reflection she wears a velvety robe and an academic cap. The dark haired woman beside her announces, “ You will be a world scholar,” and the young woman’s back straightens with confidence, casting off the white prejudice that tried to make her dreams small

I am in a space ship.  I have been traveling for a long time.  There are three of us on the journey.  The inside of the ship is a bit like a house only the gravity control has gone down and so we are floating.  I go to sleep a bit worried that we may be in this condition for the duration of our lives.  The ship is being piloted by artificial intelligence I guess.  I'm aware that no human is captaining but I totally trust the navigation process.  I awaken and pull the curtains back to see that I am approaching the surface of a planet just before dawn.  It's beautiful.  We are arriving above a shallow ocean.  I see large satellite towers with white disks angled toward the sky.  Amidst the ocean waves there are beautiful creatures diving in and out of the surf.  At first they look to be whales, but as I approach I realize that they are fully sentient beings temporarily adapted to water movement.  They are about the same height as me, playfully diving in and out of the waves, ra

I am in Alaska I think.  There are whales.  Whales who sometimes have to embody as humans.  I am at a station of sorts and there is a deep underground tunnel (not so much a tunnel as it goes nearly straight down via a spiral stair case).  This tunnel opens onto a view of the moon that is unparalleled from what I am told.  I begin the descent.  One of the docents tells me to turn right when the time comes otherwise you come up at an easier vantage but not nearly as spectacular.  I descend.  Soon I am just gliding down the central pole that holds the spiral stairs in place.  There are sights along the way.  Areas for kids to stop and play.  I realize that few people come this far.  I keep going and become a bit frightened by the notion that I could easily be buried alive deep beneath the earth.  Than the thought occurs to me that sometimes in order to see the moon fully you have to enter deep, deep into the earth.

I am carrying this man over my shoulder.  He reminds me of Bradley Cooper and Maverick, I lay him down on the bed.  (Back story: I like this man.  He has been very flirtatious with me and he interests me).  As I lay him down his face grimaces and I can see he is in pain.  I ask what's wrong and he says I hurt him here (pointing to his shoulder) when I touched him.  He is very matter of fact and begins to writhe around bones cracking, joints dislocating and relocating.  I realize he has some condition, a very painful condition and it is easy to hurt him.  I think of David and his pain and wounds and history.  I think of me.  I tell the man that I might not be a good fit for him because I grew up with lots of brothers and he may need someone to keep him safe (live in a bubble) and I'm more likely to say, "Stand up and pull your shit together man".  He says, "That is just the kind of person I need.  That is why I like you".  Above us there is an old theater