Only a Dream Away

Bid Ben Bid Bont

Finished Simon Buxton's "The Shamanic Way of the Bee" last night. I cried myself to sleep. Dreamed all night restlessly and intermittently about the Bee Master collecting honey from the blessed hives. Exhausted and weepy today.

Edited to add: One of the things that kept awakening me was a piercing, stabbing, fixed pain on the inner aspect of my right thigh. This pain is not new to me (been happening for a year maybe) but it is very occasional -- months between occurrences-- and always at night. When it woke me last night I wondered if it is what a bee sting feels like. The pain always comes and goes within an hour or so and never leaves soreness -- but it is pretty excruciating when it is happening.

Seeking out the Sting

Another night of non-stop dreams last night, but only a few remain:

ACT I

I am in an upstairs room, maybe a cozy finished attic with pitched ceilings, with my mentor Althea. I say to her, "It's so nice for us to have time like this. We never do anything, just the two of us." She agrees, and I take off my top and lie face down on a blanket. She begins to give me a therapeutic massage. After a little while someone comes in (another mystery schooler -- Linda perhaps) and Althea sends me away to a private room with something in my hands. I can't remember what I was holding, but I am to go into a smaller, curtained room while she deals with the other person.

ACT II

Althea, I, and a handful of herb students are at a book signing. There is something to do with horticulture and herbs at this event but the author is -- get this -- the Queen of England! None of us is dressed appropriately for her arrival, which is announced and we are all to move to the sides of the wide carpet she is to walk as she approaches a table at the front of the room. We are all dressed as though we are going to do bodywork or are on an outing doing herb harvesting in the woods.

Queen Elizabeth II processes down, wearing one of her famous matching suits and hats and handbags. She takes her seat at the table and looks frankly rather annoyed. The lining up and signing begins, lots of hullabaloo, and I stay off to the side and just watch her to see how she behaves. Two teenaged girls come up and make small talk with her; she leans forward with a sparkle in her eye and says something that makes them laugh. I respect her grace and cleverness, and the way she interacts.

At the end of the signing, my classmate Claudia has hauled a large bag of elderberry powder onto the table. It's about the size of a bag of potting soil. It is open and I can see the purple powder inside. Althea says something about wanting a drink, and I get her one, but her drink comes as a strange viscous periwinkle substance... it has the consistency of face cream. And the only way I can serve it to her is to  use the scoop from the elderberry powder bag. I ask her if it's OK if there's elderberry powder in her 'drink,' and she says it's fine.

ACT III

This is the dream that I remember the most vividly emotionally but I don't have many more details than that. Basically, throughout different scenarios, private, not private, indoor, outdoor, clothed, unclothed, I am waiting for a honeybee to come and sting me. In this segment of the dreamtime I am quite literally obsessed with the idea and am waiting for a bee that never comes. I understand it to be an initiation of sorts, and while I want it to happen, I'm also scared about how much it will hurt and what my reaction will be (I have never been stung in real life).

Turtle-dile or Turtle-gator

Been a while since I've updated; to tell the truth I've only had maybe one or two serious dreams since the last time I posted, and went through a very unusual dry spell of dreaming. It was probably related to stress and overwork.

Last night:

I am in class, probably shiatsu class, and my friend Tom is sitting next to me. I've brought something special to class, which I am excited to show off. It is a strange animal: a tortoise shell holding inside of it an alligator (or crocodile). I think it looked more like an alligator.

When I pull it out of my bag, only the shell is showing; the alligator is hiding its head, legs and tail inside the shell, just like a turtle would. (It strikes me now as I type what bizarre creatures turtles and tortoises are.) The shell is thick, strong, bumpy. It seems impenetrable. In fact I get on top of the shell and sit on it as though to test its strength. It is completely sturdy.

Then Tom starts poking inside the neck hole to try to get the alligator to show its head. It just peeks out a little.

The scene shifts and I am watching the classroom in the middle of the night, as a disembodied viewer. No one is there, of course. Suddenly the room is flooded almost to the top with water. I see a figure in the water -- he looks like something out of a sci-fi TV show, literally like some kind of alien/human hybrid. He has yellow eyes. I know he does not belong there -- that is, he is not familiar, he is a stranger, but he has been let in with my knowledge.

My perspective shifts and I am viewing the room as this character, with the water level a few feet above my head. Breathing doesn't seem to be an issue. As this character I see something swim toward me out of the gloom. It is the alligator, with no shell this time! I am threatened by it, and it is swimming fast right toward my head. 

I put out my hand and some kind of golden electrical force shoots out of it, not just stunning the alligator but throwing it back. The force is so powerful, the animal hits the back wall, ricochets, hits the front wall, and shuttles back and forth like this through the water a few times, until finally it is presumably dead from all the hits. 

There is an 'outside voice' or consciousness, the part of me that belongs at the school, is part of the family there, that knows the alien character has been mistaken in killing the alligator. This part of my consciousness mourns the loss of the animal, but understands that the alien character was allowed into the school and was only acting in self-defense.

The Troublesome Imbolc Ritual(s) plus a cameo by Michael

ACT I

I am in the main classroom at school and my Mystery School friends have gathered for our Imbolc ritual. The altar is set, and the room is wavering somewhere between its mundane self and some other place, sometimes smaller, sometimes larger, sometimes with other furniture (and, curiously, a big stereo system), and sometimes without.

Althea is not there and I am to lead the ritual. We gather around the altar, the room candlelit. Facing South, I look at the altar. Directly before me is a special Imbolc candle -- like one I remember my mother had from childhood, decorated with an ornate Celtic design. It is already about halfway used and is sitting in a holder. To the left of it, lying on the altar, is an identical candle, except brand new, with a long wick. I light the halfway-used candle. Elsewhere all over the altar are several other candles, all of different shapes, sizes, degrees of use and colors, and I know these are all the candles of my fellow Mystery Schoolers which we will light later in the ritual. There is also a jack-o-lantern on the altar. "Who put this here?" I ask. One of my fellow Mystery Schoolers, Chris, says that she put it there. "But why?" I ask. No answer. My friend HT goes to light the new Imbolc candle. "Hang on a second," I say, producing a pair of scissors from out of nowhere. I trim the wick down to a manageable size and hand the candle back to him.

The altar is set back too close to the bookshelves on the North end. "Hey guys, let's move this forward a little so we can stand around the altar and give the quarter officers room to walk around." We pull the whole production South a few feet. "Quarter officers?" I ask, and volunteers speak up.

I ask everyone to ground out and do the Kabbalistic cross. Some people seem distracted. In particular, someone who I know is interested in joining us in real life but is not yet part of our group, a very nice woman named Rebecca, is talking in the background, giggling, lots of movement. I try to let the core group lead by example, and begin.

"Before we call in the elements, I'd like to tell the story of Water," I say. (Which is an odd deviation from standard procedure -- this is the sort of thing we'd usually save until AFTER the room has been blessed.)

"In the beginning, all was darkness, and the breath of God moved across the Water," I intone, referring of course to Genesis, chapter one, verse one.

Rebecca is still chattering away in the back. "I'd like to tell the story of Water," I say to her. She looks up. I continue again. "In the beginning...."

And she gets up and walks to the door.

"Where are you going? We're in the middle of ritual, could you show a little respect?"

"I'm just going to get something to bring to the back room for the pot luck," she says.

I'm really getting steamed now. She closes the door behind her. All is quiet again, so I start once more:

"In the beginning, all was darkness and the breath of God moved across the Water. And then God separated Water from Water and created the Firmament."

At this point Rebecca comes walking back through the room with her treats in hand, singing in a mocking tone: "Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb..." (which is bizarrely appropriate actually, considering that Imbolc celebrates ewes going into milk for imminent lambing).

That's it. I'm out of patience. I catch up to her before she can reach the North door and grab her by her wrists.

"What's wrong with you? Can't you see we're conducting ritual here? This is important, you have to show some respect or else remove yourself from the rite." She's looking at me with a sneering smile. My hands go up to hold her face. "Maybe you don't respect me leading this but you have to respect the rite and what we're celebrating. Maybe you think Althea should be here or maybe you think you should have a greater role. Or is it because you think you deserve more recognition? Well guess what, I think you do. You're beautiful and talented and deserve the best, but you have to show respect first and do the work."

At this point she's crying and can't hold onto her mocking mask any longer. We hug a long hug while our classmates look on in a hush.

ACT II

Once again I am just about to start the same ritual. There is a big stereo by the side of the altar and it's playing music -- pleasant but not appropriate nor conducive for sacred space.

I walk to the stereo and turn it down.

I return to my spot and begin as described in Act 1.

By itself, the knob on the stereo turns clockwise, bringing up the volume. (This actually happened to me in real life in an apartment -- likely haunted -- that I had just after college. I actually had to fight with the thing to stop it from becoming deafening.)

I go over and turn it down. My group look bewildered -- how is that doing that by itself?!

The process repeats at least two more times.

There is no clear resolution to this except that in the next scene I am in the car with my husband and it is daytime, and we are on a 'break,' just out for a bit and then returning to finish the ritual. In the car we are driving past the downtown skyscrapers and I am going over what I want to say when we get back to school.

ACT III

Back at school in the same room as before, but it doesn't seem like it has anything to do with Imbolc. Actually it seems like the tail-end of some herb class-related event. Socializing, lots of people, lots of action.

Again I am standing by the north door, talking to one or two people. Behind me I hear my teacher Michael's voice, which is a surprise (partly because in real life I haven't talked to him in a long time, partly because he lives across the country). I hear him greeting someone, probably Althea. Out of my peripheral vision -- in this dream I never look directly at him -- I can see his black hair, his glasses, I can see him taking off his jacket and hanging it on a chair. I continue on with my conversation but am aware of his voice which is now to my right.

The people in the room shuffle around and finally he and I are standing side by side but facing opposite directions. His right arm grazes my right arm. We are both wearing short-sleeved shirts. I never look at him, nor he at me, we just continue having separate conversations, arms touching. Then our right arms become somewhat snakelike (this is a poor description I think) and twist around each other until we are holding hands. It is the only acknowledgement we give each other, never missing a beat in our separate conversations.

Sunflowers and albizzia

Sketchy details from last night's dream:

I am in a place that is supposed to be my parents' house. The inside is smaller but the surrounding land is bigger. I am trying to sleep in a room I don't recognize, inside a tent. The evening starts out warm, but becomes cold, and I unzip out of my tent to close the blinds and windows of the room.

The action shifts and my dad is showing me a plant. Actually he is just showing me a branch with small green leaves, serrated. He's talking about herbalism and for some reason it's annoying me -- there is a sense of 'this is MY thing' and 'you know it's my 'thing' but you won't let me get a word in edgeways' -- pretty consistent with my dad's characteristics in real life. The branch and leaves resemble young elm leaves but I rub the leaves and smell them -- they feel resinous and produce a lemon balm-like odor.

He tells me it's albizzia (mimosa) and again, I'm annoyed, because I know what albizzia leaves look like, and they don't look like this!

Then he's showing me the heads of sunflowers which he's cut off and placed in water. I don't quite understand why he's done this but it seems to be to feed the birds or squirrels, but I don't see how the seeds will develop on these heads after they've been literally decapitated.

The action shifts again and my little brother and I (in real life he is 24, but in my dreams he is always about 9, and he is about that age here) 'run away' from our house. We are laughing and giggling, giddy to be 'free.' But we also know we are on a mission -- to find an albizzia tree. We know where one is but we can only use it if it's blooming. (I assume we will be making medicine from it.) We stop at the train tracks to wait while a train goes by. From where we are standing it is only a few steps before we can see the lot where the tree grows, and after the train goes by, we walk forward, and our line of vision clears, and we see the tree. AND, it's blooming, with a few of its pink feather flowers all over. "It's blooming! It's blooming!" we cry. We are very happy. The dream ends before we make it to the tree.

Note: just before bed I pulled the nine of cups, "Happiness," from my new Thoth Tarot deck. This is the first card I've pulled from this deck and it makes me laugh because when I was in Glastonbury alone some years back I had recurring dreams about Aleister Crowley which weren't entirely unpleasant, but neither were they very pleasant. It was nice to pull such a positive card in my first experience with this deck.

Various snippets of dreams from Thanksgiving week:

1. My friends (whom we did host for Thanksgiving) come over for the holiday to discover that we've adopted something like four small dogs, all of whom have their own floor cushion in the living room.

2. I am sitting on the couch in my living room when I hear a rustling sound to my left. I look down to see a mouse burrowing into a potted bamboo plant. I suspect he has some access through the bottom of the pot into the wall and down through the building.

3. I am in Michael's clinic (which does not look like his clinic... more like a large hotel hallway; but it is softly lit, sparsely decorated and the walls are a soothing gold/pink color), waiting for him to be finished with his day. I do not have an appointment with him, I am just waiting for him. I have no sense of any plans or intention, it is simply waiting. While waiting I see a display of giant incense boxes (like the HEM ones which are hexagonal, only these are several feet tall) in a recessed window/altar area. I sense that I should take some incense and try to decide based on the smell. I choose the one I like and turn the box around to see what scent it is. It is called "Aphrodite."

The action shifts and I am in a similarly lit room with my Mystery School classmates. I'm sitting next to Jeff. Althea has instructed us to pick three tarot cards and reflect on what they have meant for us this year. I am working on my three: Wheel of Fortune, Death and (I think) the Star. While doing so she bends down to talk to Jeff about the Hierophant, which is one of his cards.

A moveable rainbow, Mystery School in powdered wigs

Dream from Friday night:

I am in some kind of hybrid of my parents' house and my apartment now. I am with my Mystery School group in the basement. Althea sends me upstairs to fetch something.

When I get to the second floor, to my bedroom, I all of a sudden feel tired and decide to stay there and sleep there for the night.

I wake up the next morning and walk to the window just outside my room, at the top of the stairs. I see a magnificent technicolor rainbow arcing across the sky and into the water (in real life my room does not overlook any body of water). I stare at it in awe for a moment and then decide that I want to take a picture of it; unfortunately, my digital camera is in the basement where I left all my stuff the night before.

I run down the stairs to the basement and find most of my Mystery School friends still sleeping on the floor, on cushions. I feel bad for having abandoned them. But Althea appears. She is wearing a pre-Restoration costume, complete with powdered bouffant wig! And I notice that so are all the others. She hugs me and doesn't seem to be angry that I left the night before. I feel relieved. Her cleavage is heaving out of her dress and she has a fake mole on her cheek. She is wearing too much rouge, as was the custom.

My friend H.T., also clad in costume, sees me and starts to follow me upstairs. He is giving me a hard time about something -- I think he is upset that I left the group. I let him heckle me all the way up the stairs, and I say nothing. I just want to get to the top and take the picture of the rainbow. At the top of the stairs I look out the window and see that the rainbow is fading; in fact, it is moving away, pulled across the water to the left of my frame of vision, by a little tugboat! I try to snap a few pictures and keep hoping that I will be able to restore the glorious colors via Photoshop.

H.T. continues to irritate me and follows me into my bedroom, where, finally exasperated, I turn around and look at him. His wig is yellowed and pulling back from his hairline. His costume is disheveled. I say to him, "Do you know how RIDICULOUS you look?!?"