Last night I had an unusual dream sequence. I was semi-lucid throughout.
It started with me facing a building and realizing that I was dreaming and feeling that I could find my Patron God somewhere in there. Inside, it turned out to be a carpeted office complex with meandering hallways, full of people briskly coming and going or working at their tasks. I made some turns down somewhat ornate hallways and found the office I was after. But my Patron God was out and there were some building staff there instead, with two new arrivals who needed counseling. I immediately knew I had a job and was entirely qualified for it: I escorted one of the new people, who started off looking female but turned into a short, plain-faced man with red hair and wide, somewhat shimmery gray eyes, to a room to talk. He told me he’d been in a hell—he even gave a name for it, which I forget—and said he’d expected it to keep on getting worse over time, but instead he had ended up here (in the building). I told him that he was looking for his Home and that the building was not a place to stay permanently, but he was quite skeptical and dismissive. Still, he did listen. I then perceived that he had to reflect on his spiritual beliefs and what they had been when he was alive. He didn’t like that. I told him he wouldn’t want to hear what I was saying, but that I knew I was dreaming and was actually asleep in a bed back in Midgard, so I did know what I was talking about. That carried more weight with him. Then I told him he had a lot of hard things to think about and we’d end the counseling session for now.
It’s interesting: I woke up from that particular dream sequence feeling somewhat mentally drained, but like I had done exactly what needed to be done. It’s difficult to convey the tone of the dream in writing, especially that odd feeling of being aware you are dreaming.
I’ll start with last night, but I have a number of dreams from the last week or so to record.
Last night I remember a dream of taking a long, exploratory walk near the ocean, though usually not quite in view of water. Unlike some of these dreams, where it is often dark, this one was set in the day and the sky was blue but the sun was slowly setting. My oldest friend was walking with me for part of the dream. I came across a home near the shore that was “my grandmother’s” (who is deceased in waking life). I saw her and knew she was dead, but she told me her grandmother was still alive. I was very startled and wanted to talk to my 4th-great grandmother before she too passed away. Then I was out walking again and was worried about running out of time before the sun fully set. I had my camera with me and was trying to find some pretty things to photograph. There was a forested park and mountains visible for this part of the dream. I think I was trying to get up the mountain about when I woke up.
Maybe some of this one has to do with recent pleasant surprises with genealogical research, but the grandmother in the dream was from the other side of the family.
Sometime last week or so, I had a powerful but scary dream in which I was staying upstairs in a home in Texas (not mine, I was a guest). I realized something felt wrong and looked in the mirror, only to see huge purple and black bruising across my chest. I knew I was having a heart attack and rushed downstairs to call 911. My oldest friend was in this one too. According to one dream interpretation book I have, the doubling often indicates that the dream is emphasizing that it is about the dreamer themselves: a sibling or a close friend can indicate that. Anyways, I was in a dining room and called 911. The dispatcher immediately put me on hold. Then when the dispatcher picked up again, they were really obtuse. It was clear that it was the person’s first day on the job, but they were also too prideful to ask for much help. In the meantime, I was losing my ability to even speak very clearly. I demanded their name and they said Gray Campbell (not any name I know from waking life… I think there is a pun on “compel” in the name). At one point I was so frustrated that I told the dispatcher I’d sue them if I actually survived, and the person thanked me for retaining them. I lost even more ability to speak and woke up.
In another dream from the past few weeks, I was in a large, strange home a bit like a farmhouse. My father (deceased in waking life) had his own room. I went in and the windows were open to a forest outside: hundreds upon hundreds of frogs had crawled in the room and then died. I could see their stiff, dried out bodies everywhere, very clear shades of spotted brown and pale cream. My “father’s” bed was empty and covered with spider webs, and a large dead spider hung above it. I thought to myself that I hoped he was not sleeping there anymore.
It may or may not relate to the dream, but I’ve been working on what should be the final round of papers for his estate lately.
Another recent dream, one which I felt positive about, as I was taking an active role in the dream and it had a good resolution:
In the dream, I’d parked my car in a smallish National Park area in an open city. The park area had green fields and was enclosed with a wire fence and had a guarded entrance point. It was supposed to be open until dusk. I parked there to go to a set of long, one-story historic-looking buildings made with red brick and with pillars. There was a blurry sequence there about a river and there were other people around.
At one point I went back to that parking lot and a security guard (male, I think) shot at me from the wood guard booth. I heard the shot, but nothing connected and I thought it might be a warning blank. I explained to the guard about my car being there and was not bothered further.
Later in the day, whatever was happening in the brick buildings was winding down and a bunch of people were leaving, including myself and a big bearded man with his wife and small daughter. When I reached the parking area, it was dusk, not quite dark yet, and the entrance was chained. Still, I tried to slip through and get to my car. A security guard shot at me again, this time a female guard, and I heard the bang really loudly again. It too did not strike me. I explained about the car: the woman guard had thought I was a threat, but she accepted my explanation. Then the person who really was a threat showed up, in the midst of several security guards and the people from the historic brick building: a thin, pale and sickly man grabbed someone’s gun because he wanted it and started threatening the people, including the family with the young girl. He was waving the gun he’d taken around and we didn’t know where he’d shoot. One of the security guards started talking him down. I ended up very close to him and could see that he didn’t have much hair left and that his eyes were a distinct shade of dirty yellow. The color was unusual. I looked him in the eyes and told him he didn’t want to hurt anyone and that he was not a bad person. I believed it, and he believed me. He left me take the gun and secure it off to my left, a bit out of his reach. He still wanted it but calmed down and everyone was O.K.
This past night I dreamt I was at a variation on a summer event I sometimes go to. It was a long trip to the site (like in waking life) and they were doing some sort of odd set-up involving an outdoor area with sections, a bit like a wheel, and making people move around. For some reason, I got fed up and decided to leave as soon as I’d arrived. There was another person there, a woman with smooth medium-brown hair in a short cut, that had come to the same conclusion and was also about to head out.
In another part of the dream, I was looking out a window, only it was sort of the event with people, but set in a room in a sort of a wild, mountainous place like Iceland. I could see the mountains very clearly out the window as the dark and the fog lifted, and they were colorful and snow-capped in front of blue sky. Then a storm was coming in, so dangerous that people needed to seek cover in the room. I saw what looked like 6- or 8- sided crystalline rock pillars coming down from the clouds. I wedged myself between a wall and a desk, anchoring the desk so that it would not fly around when the storm hit. Someone commented that this was a smart idea. No one seemed to be hurt in the storm.
Later, in another dream, I was in an odd store and found a carved piece that was somewhat interesting. I think it was a seal, but it had other features as well. It was slightly over a $100 which was more than I was quite willing to pay for it… I liked it in some ways but was not that taken with it.
I also remember a short sequence about a complex plucked string music at one point, perhaps a dulcimer. I woke up very quickly from that one, though.
Not this night but the previous one I had a dream that I was being chased through buildings that looked sort of like large houses in a dark, suburban-style neighborhood. I am not sure who was doing the chasing, but it seemed to be a hostile group of some sort. In the dream, I realized I could shape-shift. I evaded the pursuers as a fox at first, then switched to a hawk to fly through trees. It got even darker out, becoming true night, and I shape-shifted into an owl. I never got away from the pursuers entirely, but they also never actually caught me.
I don’t remember much from last night, except a fragment of a dream in which I heard a disembodied voice tell me to “Live by the numbers, but keep the number loose.” The second part was definitely singular. For some reason, the statement felt comforting and freeing… like there were weights in the first part of the statement that could be dropped. Before I went to sleep, I had been thinking a lot about the differences between “fear” and “frightened” (as least, the different connotations in my own mind) and how much fright I have been carrying inside.
I had some dreams that felt a bit different than usual this morning, strong images mixed together, not necessarily in a “logical” order:
In one vivid sequence, I was walking along corridors open to the sky with brick pillars and alcoves painted with brilliant, colorful pictures of all kinds of Gods and Goddesses, one Deity per alcove. The setting felt like Roman times, and a Roman male was starting to paint over the images with white-wash (like Catholic images were painted over in the Netherlands). I wanted to stop him and save the paintings.
In another sequence, I saw a Catholic priest walking alongside a canal who seemed troubled. I asked him something, I think about what was wrong, and he brushed me off rather rudely. There was more about the canal, but the scenes have faded. I saw people swimming in it, though, and the scene was sort of festive.
In another part of all this, I had created a book about my life with illustrations, the sort I enjoyed drawing when I was a kid. It was a very honest book, and it felt healing to me. There was a page about my patron God and I remember seeing something at the end with a wolf’s paw-print. There was also another bit about what turned out to be an Iraqi nobleman that tied back to the book in a way.
Lawd, I'm On The Mindsay!
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