Dream Life
Recent dreams:
I'm walking on a dry river bed. Not a natural river bed, more like the LA River- concrete on both sides. There are stairs behind me that lead down the wall to the bottom of the river. It's almost dark. There's a strange orange glow to the ground. I look down and the river bed is full of the most beautiful polished stones. I pick them up to examine- rose quartz, jade, hematite (it looks like hematite, but I'm not positive). I can't believe how beautiful these stones are! I'm picking them up, walking forward. I look up, and realize that I'm walking toward a group of men- they look like both like gangsters and homeless, and completely menacing. I look beyond them to a neighborhood on the other side of the river, and it frightens me. The houses are all white with red roofs, they're small and close together, and they're kind of falling apart. This is the neighborhood I frequently find myself in in other dreams. I usually get lost there, and the people on the front porches grab at me and they want to hurt me. I look behind me at the stairs that brought me to this riverbed, and then down at the stones in my hand. I realize that gathering these stones are bringing me closer to these frightening men and houses, so I drop them and scurry back up the stairs.
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I'm standing in the driveway with a friend of mine who is getting ready to go out to a club. It's nighttime, and she's fastening a corset. Another woman is nearby, and she asks my friend if she is a witch. She replies that she is, but she pronounces the word, "watch". "Yes, I'm a watch." The other woman snorts, it seems with disdain over the mispronounced word. She walks away, and I follow her. I ask her if she was a witch, if she knew of the Reclaiming Tradition, and would she suggest it. She asks me why I care, and I say that I found out about them and was curious about learning more, as I'm drawn to pagan/ancient religions. She asks me if I was ever a Christian, and I reply that I was once. She then asks me if I was a Christian by indoctrination, or by essence. I look into her face. She's smaller than I am, about 5 inches shorter, more compact, yet muscular. Her shoulder length hair is black with tight curls, and her face glows intensely, especially her sharp eyes. Her dark olive complection is dewy. Her beauty and strength almost knock the wind out of me, and I find it hard to answer the question out loud. She answers it for me, "the correct answer is 'indoctrination'." I know this, I just couldn't say it. I want to say that it was both for me. Indoctrination because it was all I ever knew, but essence because my spirituality is the essence of my being. I ask her again about Reclaiming, and she waves her hand away- "I wouldn't be bothered by them!" And she walks inside, just barely out of my sight. My friend is ready to leave, so we walk to the car. I call out that it was good to meet her. My friend is put off by her reply, saying that it was rude. I agree, but I'm still taken by her presence. We drive away.
I wake up feeling like I've been visited.
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My husband and I are at a ski resort. He's sitting on a swingset, swinging, and I'm climbing onto a red slide that encircles the swingset. I can't see exactly where the slide is joined to the ground- it seems almost like a magic carpet that stretches out in front of me and behind me, with sides to hold onto. I throw a little snow onto the slide so that I can gain speed. As it curves around, and as I pick up speed, it goes higher. This is fun for a while, and Craig is waving at me as he swings higher and higher. I keep getting faster and faster, thus swinging out further and getting higher. Finally I'm taller than the trees and I can touch the top leaves. This sensation is so much like previous dreams- recurring dreams I've had since I was a little girl. I'd jump into the air and begin to fly. This is fun for a while, but then I can't land. I spiral further and further into the air. I'm frightened, and then I wake up. Back to this dream: I'm starting to careen out of control. The slide is tipping and I have to grab tightly to the sides. It throws me further into the air, dips down to the ground, then back up again. I watch Craig swinging, smiling, waving. It finally dawns on me that I can stick my foot into the snow the next time the slide reaches down, so I do and I come to a stop. I get off the slide.
Same dream:
I'm at a circus, and there is a wild clown named Icepick who is killing everyone. People everywhere are running and screaming. He's throwing knives and axes and people are being cut in half, bleeding everywhere. He laughs maniacally and runs after me. He throws a knife that bounces off a pole and lands in someone else's head. I hide behind a counter and tuck up my legs. Suddenly, I'm sitting at a table, closing a book. The book is the story with Icepick the Clown, and I was reading the story. Now I'm waiting in a doctor's office to find out if I'm pregnant with Craig's baby. Another couple is talking to the doctor about their pregnancy, and I'm sitting next to them. I keep falling out of the chair, or tipping over in the chair, and bringing attention to myself, which is making me uncomfortable. Finally someone gets me a new chair. The doctor is Amy, and she finally tells me that I'm pregnant, but she either won't or can't tell me if it's Craig's. Craig doesn't care, he says we'll love the baby no matter what. I carry the book with me wherever I am- walking on the sidewalk, sitting on the couch. I read it, run from Icepick the Clown, and then I close the book. I'm terribly frightened by him, and by all the madness of screaming victims, but a part of me just wants to face his goulish face.
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Last night's dream (the only part I can remember):
I'm in a forest village. It seems to be so very long ago, like in the time of the Puritans. I'm running from the villagers who are screaming after me. Suddenly, I'm in the arms of the clergyman. He's wearing a long black wool coat, buttoned up to the neck. He has a white clergy collar, and a black widebrim hat. He's holding me like a baby, but he's lowering me down- either into a grave or into a lake. Either way, it's to kill me or it's because he believes I'm already dead. But I'm not dead. He doesn't lean over to lower me- his arms just grow longer. I know that I have to scream out that I'm not dead and to get help, so I start crying out.
I wake up Craig with my loud cries, and he has to wake me by holding me close and yelling for me to wake up. I'm panting and scared to go back to sleep because I don't want to die.
I'm walking on a dry river bed. Not a natural river bed, more like the LA River- concrete on both sides. There are stairs behind me that lead down the wall to the bottom of the river. It's almost dark. There's a strange orange glow to the ground. I look down and the river bed is full of the most beautiful polished stones. I pick them up to examine- rose quartz, jade, hematite (it looks like hematite, but I'm not positive). I can't believe how beautiful these stones are! I'm picking them up, walking forward. I look up, and realize that I'm walking toward a group of men- they look like both like gangsters and homeless, and completely menacing. I look beyond them to a neighborhood on the other side of the river, and it frightens me. The houses are all white with red roofs, they're small and close together, and they're kind of falling apart. This is the neighborhood I frequently find myself in in other dreams. I usually get lost there, and the people on the front porches grab at me and they want to hurt me. I look behind me at the stairs that brought me to this riverbed, and then down at the stones in my hand. I realize that gathering these stones are bringing me closer to these frightening men and houses, so I drop them and scurry back up the stairs.
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I'm standing in the driveway with a friend of mine who is getting ready to go out to a club. It's nighttime, and she's fastening a corset. Another woman is nearby, and she asks my friend if she is a witch. She replies that she is, but she pronounces the word, "watch". "Yes, I'm a watch." The other woman snorts, it seems with disdain over the mispronounced word. She walks away, and I follow her. I ask her if she was a witch, if she knew of the Reclaiming Tradition, and would she suggest it. She asks me why I care, and I say that I found out about them and was curious about learning more, as I'm drawn to pagan/ancient religions. She asks me if I was ever a Christian, and I reply that I was once. She then asks me if I was a Christian by indoctrination, or by essence. I look into her face. She's smaller than I am, about 5 inches shorter, more compact, yet muscular. Her shoulder length hair is black with tight curls, and her face glows intensely, especially her sharp eyes. Her dark olive complection is dewy. Her beauty and strength almost knock the wind out of me, and I find it hard to answer the question out loud. She answers it for me, "the correct answer is 'indoctrination'." I know this, I just couldn't say it. I want to say that it was both for me. Indoctrination because it was all I ever knew, but essence because my spirituality is the essence of my being. I ask her again about Reclaiming, and she waves her hand away- "I wouldn't be bothered by them!" And she walks inside, just barely out of my sight. My friend is ready to leave, so we walk to the car. I call out that it was good to meet her. My friend is put off by her reply, saying that it was rude. I agree, but I'm still taken by her presence. We drive away.
I wake up feeling like I've been visited.
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My husband and I are at a ski resort. He's sitting on a swingset, swinging, and I'm climbing onto a red slide that encircles the swingset. I can't see exactly where the slide is joined to the ground- it seems almost like a magic carpet that stretches out in front of me and behind me, with sides to hold onto. I throw a little snow onto the slide so that I can gain speed. As it curves around, and as I pick up speed, it goes higher. This is fun for a while, and Craig is waving at me as he swings higher and higher. I keep getting faster and faster, thus swinging out further and getting higher. Finally I'm taller than the trees and I can touch the top leaves. This sensation is so much like previous dreams- recurring dreams I've had since I was a little girl. I'd jump into the air and begin to fly. This is fun for a while, but then I can't land. I spiral further and further into the air. I'm frightened, and then I wake up. Back to this dream: I'm starting to careen out of control. The slide is tipping and I have to grab tightly to the sides. It throws me further into the air, dips down to the ground, then back up again. I watch Craig swinging, smiling, waving. It finally dawns on me that I can stick my foot into the snow the next time the slide reaches down, so I do and I come to a stop. I get off the slide.
Same dream:
I'm at a circus, and there is a wild clown named Icepick who is killing everyone. People everywhere are running and screaming. He's throwing knives and axes and people are being cut in half, bleeding everywhere. He laughs maniacally and runs after me. He throws a knife that bounces off a pole and lands in someone else's head. I hide behind a counter and tuck up my legs. Suddenly, I'm sitting at a table, closing a book. The book is the story with Icepick the Clown, and I was reading the story. Now I'm waiting in a doctor's office to find out if I'm pregnant with Craig's baby. Another couple is talking to the doctor about their pregnancy, and I'm sitting next to them. I keep falling out of the chair, or tipping over in the chair, and bringing attention to myself, which is making me uncomfortable. Finally someone gets me a new chair. The doctor is Amy, and she finally tells me that I'm pregnant, but she either won't or can't tell me if it's Craig's. Craig doesn't care, he says we'll love the baby no matter what. I carry the book with me wherever I am- walking on the sidewalk, sitting on the couch. I read it, run from Icepick the Clown, and then I close the book. I'm terribly frightened by him, and by all the madness of screaming victims, but a part of me just wants to face his goulish face.
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Last night's dream (the only part I can remember):
I'm in a forest village. It seems to be so very long ago, like in the time of the Puritans. I'm running from the villagers who are screaming after me. Suddenly, I'm in the arms of the clergyman. He's wearing a long black wool coat, buttoned up to the neck. He has a white clergy collar, and a black widebrim hat. He's holding me like a baby, but he's lowering me down- either into a grave or into a lake. Either way, it's to kill me or it's because he believes I'm already dead. But I'm not dead. He doesn't lean over to lower me- his arms just grow longer. I know that I have to scream out that I'm not dead and to get help, so I start crying out.
I wake up Craig with my loud cries, and he has to wake me by holding me close and yelling for me to wake up. I'm panting and scared to go back to sleep because I don't want to die.