Chaos.
I had a dream about my dad today. It's something that happens from time to time. Except... this one was different from every other one I've had before. I mean, I've had anger dreams about dad, I've had dreams about vacationing with dad which were just weird, but... this one had depth, significance. I remember a conversation I'd had with Amna before she became a self-righteous cunt on me. She had said something about how there are three kinds of dreams, an idea from Islam, I believe. They are, if I recall correctly, precognitive, anxiety, or mundane. I think that I would classify my own dreams similarly, but perhaps a shade differently. I have the rare significant dream which I feel holds some relevant meaning. Clairvoyant would be a better way to put it than precognitive. Then I dream in recurring places, which are the most common dreams for me. I know that doesn't make much sense, how I say it, but it's accurate. I think these would be the equivalent of mundane dreams, though I feel they are anything but mundane. Still, they usually incorporate random data from my life in weird typical dream-like ways, and they seem to have little emotional or spiritual significance beyond the places themselves. Then, of course, like everyone else, I have anxiety dreams. Most of my dreams about my dad fall in there, I think, a result of anger or frustration with my relationship with him.
Today, though, I dreamt about my dad and it was different.
It started out like a lot of others I've had about him lately, in which we're either living in the same house or I'm visiting like we used to. The house is strange, though, not completely like or unlike the houses I remember him living in when we were younger. I was driving, for some reason, a big black SUV with dark tinted windows. Running errands with Eric. I'd ran back to the house to get changed for some reason, then go back out. I meant to unload groceries, then, but had forgotten. When I got back, after I did whatever it was I had to do, I remembered about the groceries, but dad said he'd taken care of it already while I was home last time. I hadn't even noticed, but yeah, he was right. This is, in my recollection, very unlike my father. Still, cool. Dinner was getting prepared. I was talking about how I like a salad with lettuce, cucumbers, red peppers, and carrots. And the salad on the table had carrots, so I grabbed one, but I dropped it in some onion dip on another platter. I said it was horrible, carrots in onion dip, and both Eric and Chris (my step-brother) disagreed, saying anything is good with onion dip.
See what I mean? Boring, just like most of the dad dreams I've had lately. They tend to leave me sad, like I'm missing out on something, or angry, like I've had something taken away from me. Either way, they aren't usually all that thrilling. Things usually devolve from there, something going wrong or someone saying something awful. And that's why they usually fall under the anxiety dream bit for me. However, this dream took a completely different path.
Dad left the room and came back with some things for Eric, deciding that it was time that he helped Eric find his spiritual path. There were books that Dad said had effected him greatly as he was growing up, and there was a deck of cards. I was a shade jealous, but mostly, I understood why he was giving these to Eric. Part of it was because of the shared masculine energy and the resultant bond between them, but part of it was that he felt Eric needed it more. There was something in the way he said it, in the way he looked at me, that implied that gently. I asked if I could look at the deck, and both he and Eric agreed that it was alright. They were tarot-sized, but they lacked the traditional tarot arcanas. As I went through the cards, I started laying them out on the couch between my dad and myself. Everytime I set a card down, I placed a small object on it, one that I felt somehow went with the card. At some point, my father remarked that he liked my interpretations. I really really wish I could remember more of the cards, as I'd gone through the whole deck. They were gorgeous. I wonder if this deck exists somewhere, but I doubt it. I know I couldn't make it myself. But what I do remember are these:
Chaos. When I'd first glanced over it, I thought it was Kin. I don't know why, but that's what clicked in my head. That's when I went back and started laying all the cards out, I think, because the cards were starting to talk to me in a unique way. It wasn't till I laid that card down that I realized it said Chaos and not Kin. Still, the Kin association was blatantly obvious to me. I believe when I say "kin," I am refering mostly to otherkin, but there is an obvious connection with my brother and father (my kin) as well. Chaos, I believe, refered to the more Greek meaning, in which Chaos (Khaos) is the void from which creation springs. The card itself depicted a woman's bare form and some decoration, plants perhaps. She was upside down, her hips cut off across the top of the card, her arms expanding toward the bottom. Her skin, at her hips, was a beigish color, growing into a clay-like color, incorporating mauves and greens up around her arms and hands. I remember thinking, whether it was accurate or not, that my father had colored these. He has a great eye for color and had illuminated many of the illustrations in his old D&D books, beautifully at that. I wondered, then, if he'd made the cards himself from scratch. What suggested otherwise was the professionally bound book that accompanied the deck. When I looked up the meaning for the Chaos card, it spoke of building a woman from colored sand, though I can't recall much beyond that.
Nightmare. I think that was the name of this card, or it might be merely what the card suggested to me as it looked like a Nightmare (ya know, he D&D horse creature with flaming hooves) to me. There was a black stallion, which seemed to be in space or some such, hooves not on the ground and stars draped behind it. The horse was raised up on its back legs. Upon him was a nude rider, a man with pure white (possibly painted) skin. His face, over one eye from hairline to cheekline, was painted black (well, dark grey anyway). He looked straight outward with a hint of knowledge in his eyes. I think there was orange on the card somewhere too, perhaps around the hooves and mane, but that part is vague because once I looked at the man, he drew me in. I don't know if I looked at the book for this one, but the meaning, to me, was clearly about a subconscious journey. It really spoke to me of the Chariot from the traditional tarot. It made me want to dig out my own deck and see what other parallels I could make.
The Book cards. There were four (I believe) cards which were just close ups of the cover of, I think, the same book. Or similar anyway. They struck me as remarkably strange, but also as the foundation of the deck. At the top of those cards (the names on the other cards were at the bottom, no other notation upon them), were two concentric circles, one inside the other, in yellow and red, I think, though the colors were muted, not bright, and a number 1 through 4. I was examining these cards when the alarm went off, so I didn't have the chance to really gain much meaning about them.
I woke up in Justin's arms, far too happy to worry about the dream then. When I started remembering it, wanting to think it over, I realized how much I'd lost. Ah well. It's worth it, to wake up so happy.
See, this is all relevant because my brother and I have discussed before how my father is clearly where we got whatever it is about us that sets us apart, that he's the origin of our bond, our awareness, our kinness, our esoteric interests. Part of the reason we say this is because we just know it's not our mother who gave us so many more other wonderful things. Another part is because we both recall catching glimpses into magic while with our dad. Things that distinctly strayed from the D&D stuff he actively shared with us. We've joked that we're Mudbloods and our dad was a real wizard. Except, it's only half-joking.
I don't know. We got news around Father's Day that dad moved to Las Vegas. Just another sign that he's got a gambling problem, if you ask me. Eric had tried to call him, eventually leaving a voicemail on Nancy's phone. She returned the call, leaving him a voicemail, but never elaborated. I don't think Eric's tried the number she gave him yet. From just the way all of that sounds, I think they've split up, but I could be wrong.
I've never known what to say to my father, and I don't think this dream helps any, even if it makes me curious to say something.
Today, though, I dreamt about my dad and it was different.
It started out like a lot of others I've had about him lately, in which we're either living in the same house or I'm visiting like we used to. The house is strange, though, not completely like or unlike the houses I remember him living in when we were younger. I was driving, for some reason, a big black SUV with dark tinted windows. Running errands with Eric. I'd ran back to the house to get changed for some reason, then go back out. I meant to unload groceries, then, but had forgotten. When I got back, after I did whatever it was I had to do, I remembered about the groceries, but dad said he'd taken care of it already while I was home last time. I hadn't even noticed, but yeah, he was right. This is, in my recollection, very unlike my father. Still, cool. Dinner was getting prepared. I was talking about how I like a salad with lettuce, cucumbers, red peppers, and carrots. And the salad on the table had carrots, so I grabbed one, but I dropped it in some onion dip on another platter. I said it was horrible, carrots in onion dip, and both Eric and Chris (my step-brother) disagreed, saying anything is good with onion dip.
See what I mean? Boring, just like most of the dad dreams I've had lately. They tend to leave me sad, like I'm missing out on something, or angry, like I've had something taken away from me. Either way, they aren't usually all that thrilling. Things usually devolve from there, something going wrong or someone saying something awful. And that's why they usually fall under the anxiety dream bit for me. However, this dream took a completely different path.
Dad left the room and came back with some things for Eric, deciding that it was time that he helped Eric find his spiritual path. There were books that Dad said had effected him greatly as he was growing up, and there was a deck of cards. I was a shade jealous, but mostly, I understood why he was giving these to Eric. Part of it was because of the shared masculine energy and the resultant bond between them, but part of it was that he felt Eric needed it more. There was something in the way he said it, in the way he looked at me, that implied that gently. I asked if I could look at the deck, and both he and Eric agreed that it was alright. They were tarot-sized, but they lacked the traditional tarot arcanas. As I went through the cards, I started laying them out on the couch between my dad and myself. Everytime I set a card down, I placed a small object on it, one that I felt somehow went with the card. At some point, my father remarked that he liked my interpretations. I really really wish I could remember more of the cards, as I'd gone through the whole deck. They were gorgeous. I wonder if this deck exists somewhere, but I doubt it. I know I couldn't make it myself. But what I do remember are these:
Chaos. When I'd first glanced over it, I thought it was Kin. I don't know why, but that's what clicked in my head. That's when I went back and started laying all the cards out, I think, because the cards were starting to talk to me in a unique way. It wasn't till I laid that card down that I realized it said Chaos and not Kin. Still, the Kin association was blatantly obvious to me. I believe when I say "kin," I am refering mostly to otherkin, but there is an obvious connection with my brother and father (my kin) as well. Chaos, I believe, refered to the more Greek meaning, in which Chaos (Khaos) is the void from which creation springs. The card itself depicted a woman's bare form and some decoration, plants perhaps. She was upside down, her hips cut off across the top of the card, her arms expanding toward the bottom. Her skin, at her hips, was a beigish color, growing into a clay-like color, incorporating mauves and greens up around her arms and hands. I remember thinking, whether it was accurate or not, that my father had colored these. He has a great eye for color and had illuminated many of the illustrations in his old D&D books, beautifully at that. I wondered, then, if he'd made the cards himself from scratch. What suggested otherwise was the professionally bound book that accompanied the deck. When I looked up the meaning for the Chaos card, it spoke of building a woman from colored sand, though I can't recall much beyond that.
Nightmare. I think that was the name of this card, or it might be merely what the card suggested to me as it looked like a Nightmare (ya know, he D&D horse creature with flaming hooves) to me. There was a black stallion, which seemed to be in space or some such, hooves not on the ground and stars draped behind it. The horse was raised up on its back legs. Upon him was a nude rider, a man with pure white (possibly painted) skin. His face, over one eye from hairline to cheekline, was painted black (well, dark grey anyway). He looked straight outward with a hint of knowledge in his eyes. I think there was orange on the card somewhere too, perhaps around the hooves and mane, but that part is vague because once I looked at the man, he drew me in. I don't know if I looked at the book for this one, but the meaning, to me, was clearly about a subconscious journey. It really spoke to me of the Chariot from the traditional tarot. It made me want to dig out my own deck and see what other parallels I could make.
The Book cards. There were four (I believe) cards which were just close ups of the cover of, I think, the same book. Or similar anyway. They struck me as remarkably strange, but also as the foundation of the deck. At the top of those cards (the names on the other cards were at the bottom, no other notation upon them), were two concentric circles, one inside the other, in yellow and red, I think, though the colors were muted, not bright, and a number 1 through 4. I was examining these cards when the alarm went off, so I didn't have the chance to really gain much meaning about them.
I woke up in Justin's arms, far too happy to worry about the dream then. When I started remembering it, wanting to think it over, I realized how much I'd lost. Ah well. It's worth it, to wake up so happy.
See, this is all relevant because my brother and I have discussed before how my father is clearly where we got whatever it is about us that sets us apart, that he's the origin of our bond, our awareness, our kinness, our esoteric interests. Part of the reason we say this is because we just know it's not our mother who gave us so many more other wonderful things. Another part is because we both recall catching glimpses into magic while with our dad. Things that distinctly strayed from the D&D stuff he actively shared with us. We've joked that we're Mudbloods and our dad was a real wizard. Except, it's only half-joking.
I don't know. We got news around Father's Day that dad moved to Las Vegas. Just another sign that he's got a gambling problem, if you ask me. Eric had tried to call him, eventually leaving a voicemail on Nancy's phone. She returned the call, leaving him a voicemail, but never elaborated. I don't think Eric's tried the number she gave him yet. From just the way all of that sounds, I think they've split up, but I could be wrong.
I've never known what to say to my father, and I don't think this dream helps any, even if it makes me curious to say something.