The Open Door

I’m standing outside. It’s dark and windy and snow is blowing everywhere. It’s a blizzard! Yet I’m not scared to be out in it–I’m enjoying it. The wind is howling and it’s bringing out the wild and dangerous part of me. Half of me thinks I’m going to shapeshift into a wolf and start howling too.

Then I see light, I squint my eyes to see through the snow and realize it’s a door, open, with a hand reaching out to me. I know that hand, those long slender fingers. Why would I be outside howling in the dark when I could be with my sweetie?

I make my way to the door, and his arm comes around me to pull me in. He closes the door with the other hand. He’s tsk tsking me like You silly goose.What on earth were you thinking?

Everything is hyperreal. The wool of his sweater against my cheek. The scent of peppermint wafting from the kitchen. I’m mesmerized by the colors of the tiles in the foyer. The grays and browns dissolve and coalesce. The energy is shifting to a higher vibration and I’m seeing it. It’s always really trippy when that happens, but I’m getting used to the dizziness now. Ground, ground.

And as I drift off to sleep, all I can think about is being in his arms again.

Blood Moon Eclipse Dream

I’m in a public place. It’s hard to describe. There are chairs at an angle, like the side rows of a large theater. That’s where I’m sitting. But there is a podium where someone is speaking. Directly in front of the podium is lawn, and then there’s a tall concrete wall. It seems like the speaker is speaking to a wall (how’s that for symbolism).  There are lots of young people sitting on the grass.

I realize that the person at the podium is MIchael. I can sorta hear him, but I think if I get closer, then I’ll be able to hear him better. I get up and go to sit on the grass next to some kids. Even though I’m just now a few feet away, I can’t hear a word he’s saying.

I ask the kid next to me if he can hear. He shakes his head and says no. I sit there for a few minutes, straining to hear something, anything, but nada. So I get up and go back over to the seats and voila, I can hear him again.

Of course, since it’s a dream, I don’t remember a damn thing he said. But I was aware, even in the dream, that it was Michael and it’s been a long time since MIchael’s been to see me. The last time, I was in the middle of a tornado outbreak, and was calling on him to help me. He told me “You need to own up to your power and do it yourself. There are other people who need me. You have the reiki. Use it.” That was, what? Ten, twelve years ago. So it’s significant that Michael showed up again, but why was it so difficult to hear him? Or maybe the point was that I could hear him and others didn’t? They sat there and pretended to hear him but really didn’t and he was basically just talking to a wall?

Then my mom and I are walking down the main street in the town where she lives. I see that there is a new store off on a side road and they seem to have some midcentury modern furniture. I guess it’s a second hand store, but they do have some new boxed, build-it-yourself furniture. They have two end tables that are identical to the tables my uncle made for my cousin’s bedroom when she was a little girl. I think it’s odd that there would be identical tables, identical down the hardware, because my aunt gave me those tables when I went away to college and they are sitting on either side of me as I write this, and endtables in the media room of my house.

So we go inside. I go poking around, and my mom goes poking around. I look at two framed oils in a large canvas bag and see that they are portraits of me. I call my mom over and she sheepishly admits she gave them away. I chew her out about that; why would she give pictures of me away?

Then I keep digging to see if there is anything else she gave away I need to get back. I see a series of oils in blue gilt frames. They look like Gainesboroughs. It’s hard to describe them because I was looking at them upside down–they were on the floor facing away from me, in a triangle shape (like a family tree?). The top picture was small and looked a lot like Blue Boy. There was a man in one and a woman in another. To the far left, there was another picture but I couldn’t see what it was because it was covered in kraft paper. I don’t know whether to take the paper off or not, but I decide not to because I think it will hurt the value.

I decide I need to get back these pictures as well as my portraits. I’m peeved that my mom gave them away and now I have to pay to get them back. I go looking for the owner. I hear him in the back room and I go to the back room door to yell to get him. There are DVDs and CDs in a carousel display by the door and I blunder into them and knock some down. The guy yells from the back room and I ask him if they are his porno collection.

Then I wake up, briefly. I think, It’s the blood moon eclipse; it’s opened a portal to see beyond.

Then I remember that dream, the one that started it all for me, all those years ago when I was young, a blood red full moon sitting atop the electric pole in my parents’s back yard, power lines radiating out from either side of it. A cross. The cardinal cross. The blood moon eclipse pattern with the cardinal cross. Now. Right now. All those years ago a sign that I puzzled over and now it makes sense.

The time is now.

Erasure

I dreamed about the weird bird like guy again last night. All I remember is a map of the United States and written on a chalkboard next to it, information about weird bird guy. And just as I was getting ready to focus in on the board and read it, the writing simply disappears! Like an eraser just swept across the board. And I actually heard someone say the word “erasure” as I woke up, startled.

Of course, no one in the real world said it. It was the bleed over between the dream world and ours. But my annoyance remains. Why make me aware of something if I’m not allowed enough information to do something?

Doubles

The dark headed girl who keeps popping up in my dreams was back. I was at her house, in a bedroom. There was a twin bed and a nightstand next to it. There was a window off to the side, but it looked like there were blackout curtains up. It was very dingy.

I’m standing on the other side of the bed trying to talk to the girl. She is very agitated. She is building a wall between the bed and the nightstand. Drywall and everything. I keep trying to get her to tell me what is going on, and she finally tells me that she is afraid of the Joker. I get a flash in my head of Heath Leger’s Joker and I’m a bit creeped out too. Then we hear a door close, and she starts freaking out and building the wall even faster. I realize that the wall she is building will block her off from the door.

I don’t know what is going on, but I have the feeling this is not going to go well. Either she is insane, or there is someone dressed up as the Joker causing trouble. In either case, I decide I’m not going to stick around, because I just know whatever happens I’m going to get blamed for it. So I leave.

Then I am at a mall, and there is a cinema attached at the back. They are running an independent film festival there, and I’ve just watched a movie about an Indian family. They make you clear out of the theater and then go back in between movies. I’m out in the lobby waiting to go back in. The family that was in the film comes out into the lobby. I’m wondering if maybe it was a documentary and I didn’t notice it when a guy grabs me by the arm and starts pulling me away.

“You don’t want to go to that movie. It’s awful,” he says.

I am pissed that he is dragging me by the arm and I shake him off. “How would you know? It’s a premiere.” I look at him and am taken a bit aback because he looks like my ex. The ex that died. I am a bit creeped out but fascinated so I don’t immediately walk away. Is it him reincarnated? I try to do the math in my head. This guy is really young, but I’m not sure it’s been long enough for him to be an adult in another lifetime. Is it a ghost?

Whoever it is, we are arguing. He is trying to get me to stay away from the cinema. As we are arguing, we run into a weird obnoxious red-headed guy who says to him “Hey did you bring that hot one for me?”

I tell the guy to fuck off and walk off over to a bar I see a couple of buildings down. Doppelganger ex is running after me. I sit down and order a drink and he sits next to me. I realize his shirt is unbuttoned. I think that is so gross. But at the same time he looks like my ex, and my ex was pretty hot, but he was never this in-your-face-hey-look-at-me hot.

He is still trying to convince me not to go back to the cinema. I get really pissed, and I tell him that Gareth Lloyd’s zombie movie is the next movie up after this one, and it’s the premier, and as soon as I finish my drink I am going back to the cinema and get into line. He is really upset. I keep telling him “No, I am going to go,” and he just gets more agitated the more I say no to him. I think, Now this is the guy I used to date.

Just a snippet. Another guy, at a party. There’s a weird energy vibe going on between us, but it’s not sexual. He is a very weird looking guy, with a long pointy nose. He reminds me of a giant bird the nose is so much like a beak. I am trying to figure out what it is about this guy and then suddenly I go into vision mode (I know vision mode within a dream–trippy). I see a globe and it spins around to show where I was born. A little comment bubble comes up with my name and birthdate. Yeah, so what? Then a little comment bubble comes up with the guy’s name and his birthdate. I don’t remember the guy’s name, but I remember the place was the same as where I was born and the birthday was the same day. So I think, that’s it. We were born on the same day in the same place so we share that energy. But then I think, But the birthdate wasn’t correct. It said the 11th and I was not born on the 11th.

And then I get the realization, oh it’s a twin. He’s not my twin, but he is a twin, so born same place, same day, of the same tribe? And as soon as I realize that, I think, Where’s his twin? And the globe spins around and shows me Australia.

And I think, Well, once again, I’m being given information and I don’t know what the hell to do with it. There’s a twin, who has a twin in Australia, and I don’t know who he is and I didn’t get a name for the person in Australia, and even if I did get the names, what the hell am I supposed to do?

And then I realize Heath Ledger was Australian. This is weird. Does this twin I’m being shown have something to do with “The Joker” from the first dream? And is The Joker the same Joker I saw in this dream? And if there is a connection, is this guy maybe the girl’s twin and she’s scared of him and trying to block the door to let him into her life?

My head hurts enough just trying to sort things out in my own relationships. Is the universe really asking me to play matchmaker now for others too?

Odd Combinations

I’m in a bungalow. I’m trying to pack to catch a flight. For some reason, Matt Smith is there too. There are people lined up outside the door to see him like they are at a con. I tell him that he had better tell them that he wouldn’t be making an appearance or they were going to be upset. He didn’t want to tell them, so I had to raise the window in the door and tell them that he wasn’t going to make an appearance.They were sad, but there wasn’t a riot. I go back to packing. Matt is just standing there staring at the unmade bed. I suggest that if it bothers him, he should make it. He just keeps standing there, hands on hips, staring at it.

At some point I leave and am driving in a car.

Then I am in a store. It’s a lot like the dollar store down from our house back when I was a teenager. I don’t even remember the name of the chain; it went out of business, but it had fabric and sewing goods, a pretty good collection. There are some women looking at fabric on large rolls like upholstery fabric but it is regular fabric for clothes. The woman who is waiting on them tries to tell them that the colors they are looking at, black and turquoise, just don’t go together.

I tell the women, “That’s silly. If you like the colors together, then you should buy them.”

The clerk gets really snooty with me. She is not happy that I contradicted her. I point to my shirt and cardigan. I say, “Look, I’ve got on a pink tee shirt and a lavender sweater. They aren’t the usual combo, but they look fine.”

I don’t remember the transition, but somehow I invoke my husband to back up my choice of colors. I don’t know how we got to it, but I guess the clerk said something snarky about him not being with me and I say “He’s thrown his back out. I carried him for so long, and now he’s carrying me, and it hurt his back. He’s resting it.”