our greatest blessings come to us by way of madness Phaedr. 244a

2012/10/19

archives: more dreams


negcap late Oct 2000

(this was to anand)

I look back on the dreams I've had and see it's been a series.
1)The first, the hand from the clouds was classic initiation (trickster included),followed closely by
2)dreaming snakes were coming up from underneath me all over the bed.
3)The long trek along a river, carrying a bundle of supplies
on my head: I'm in a long train of people. I stop and let them go on without me. As I sit down, something stings me. Like the hand from the cloud in the first dream, I FELT this when I awoke. (The hand I felt all day.)
4)Then the dream of working my way across a bridge full of rushing water... riding on the back of some great creature, and it was mike and shadowcatcher and someone else on foot with me. I climbed down from the creature and got into the water -- strong current! -- with them. They were frightened for me -- but I went on ahead just fine through all that fast rushing water -- and as the bridge turned down at its end, I could see a city there...
5) Then the snake in the door, yellow or green -- that I leaned into the doorway to greet it eye to eye, afraid (again, others around me afraid for me -- I was in a school and this doorway was into a classroom), but it didn't bite me; I wrapped it in my shirt and carried it off with me. Cahoots!
6)The Apollo as Sting with the wound on his leg dream: this is the mark of Dionysus's birth. He has come to make love with me, a ritual, all very serious work, you see. I assume he's come for my daughter, but it's me.
7) Then the dream of walking -- all these dreams in the full moon, like the ones I've always had --- a temple, flying on a book, a crone to teach me -- as a child. My whole life. But I'm walking in the neighborhood at night as I often did, and where therewas a great tall clump of ornamental wheat grass, there was also an old red neck man harping on some lady, his wife. I lie down by the wheat and he comes over and tries to reach up my skirt. I see that he is Yahweh, and that he is just an old man.
8) Then Yahweh younger, crying at my door.

What will the next dream be? Now. I'm mich more taken with day and awake, with the sun and Dionysos there sublimed into this place of ivy.

We wait. We hold on.

Keep faith: let the dreams steep... it's been years for me to begin to see a pattern and I am / was not perched on the precipice as you were, releasing a great great energy as you transform.

x's deborah