The Edge Of Night

I am with a man.  He is older than me.  Small and refined, successful, at the top of his game.  A serious man, not a player or womanizer.  A man intent on getting the job done and getting through life.  I’m attracted to him and I don’t understand why because he’s not really my type.  I know that I’m trying to fit in.  Square peg in a round hole, trying to be something I am not, but I’m so alone that I will use the chameleon technique and adapt and adjust.  We are in a place that is near a harbour, it’s picturesque in a San Francisco sort of way.  Here, as is my previous dream we seem to be on perpetual sunset.  I have met him for drinks.  There are others with us.  Then I join him in his hotel room only to hear that he is arranging to take me home.  It seems as though he doesn’t want or need me for later and physical intimacy just isn’t going to happen.  He seems to be politely and elegantly ‘managing’ me and pushing me away.  That leaves me feeling rejected and defensive.  Heart sore.

Then I am with a woman, she too is very businesslike and career driven.  Here too I am in the time of ‘sundowners’ and cocktails but things never go beyond there.  It seems I want to have a romantic relationship with her.  I have given her all my precious catalogues to have a look at.  She is sitting on the bed near the pillows.  It’s a hotel room as was the room with the previous man.  Only he was at a small round table at the window when he called his driver to take me home.  Here this woman is sitting on the bed next to the side table with the phone near her, handing me a neat looking envelope containing my catalogues.  I can see that the envelope is thinner and that she has taken what she wanted.  She is rejecting me along with the rest of my stuff.  I can’t believe I’m being rejected by these people.  They are nothing special, nothing exceptional, and yet I am giving myself over to them opening myself up to their rejection and dismissal.

Then I am with another man, a younger clone of the older man.  We have worked together on a project. On entering his hotel room and find him busy on the phone.  His laptop is on and he has worked on a document.  I walk towards him to kiss him.  My presence has made him extremely uncomfortable and he begins to erase his notes before I can read them. What hurt was that I didn’t want to read it. I was simply entering his space.  Nobody seems to trust me on this plane.  I feel warm loving, generous and friendly – open hearted.  They are cold and all have an agenda are full of mistrust and dishonesty.

I hear a gentle voice telling me that these are people who have had to fight very hard for what they have and that because of this they see everyone as a threat to their income future well-being and security.  Somewhere their humanity got lost and they turned into programs.  She advised that if I want a gauge of what true love is, to look to my dog.

Notes

An Astrological explanation for the perpetual sunset

“Because the Moon and Mercury are passing through this world-changing aspect right now — an event that’s like a standing wave, gradually bending all of space, time and the course of events into its shape — we get a chance to get accustomed to the patterns of change, and all of the thoughts and feelings associated with it. It comes with the implicit message that we need to grow, to adapt and to let go of the patterns that got us here in the first place. And that’s where we now stand, here on the edge of the night.”

http://planetwaves.net/pagetwo/astro-daily/on-the-edge-of-the-night

A possible interpretation:

“Baum explores the theme of self-contradiction in The Wizard of Oz. He created characters who—like humans—have complex, contradictory natures. The Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman, and the Cowardly Lion all lack self-confidence. The Scarecrow believes that he has no brains, though he comes up with clever solutions to several problems that they encounter on their journey. The Tin Woodman believes that he lacks a heart, but is moved to tears when misfortune befalls the various creatures they meet. The Cowardly Lion believes that he has no courage even though he is consistently brave through their journey.”

Carl L. Bankston III of Salem Press noted that

“These three characters embody the classical human virtues of intelligence, caring, and courage, but their self-doubts keep them from being reduced to mere symbols of these qualities.”

“By the end of novel, the characters attain self-fulfilment when they have met their objectives. To convince the characters they have the qualities they desire, the Wizard places an amalgamation of bran, pins, and needles in the Scarecrow’s head to inspire intellect; gives a silk heart to the Tin Woodman to inspire love; and a drink to the Cowardly Lion to inspire bravery”.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wonderful_Wizard_of_Oz

All dreams seem to have been dreamt simultaneously they were not in consecutive order.  The feeling they evoked was powerful and I carry that feeling of inadequacy and rejection within me still.

Do we try to love machines and programs?  Are some people virtual and incapable of human emotions? Or am  I replaying some old inner program of previous rejections?  Is this dream a warning?  If I run with the ‘machine’ theory it would seem that I have encountered many of these people.  These ‘programs’ have been created as a lens, a filter through which I have viewed my life.  In this case how many ‘real’ people have I encountered?

Or is this a dream of aspects of myself which I am struggling to embrace for fear of rejection?  Am I simply lacking in self-confidence, and living in an illusion?

Abortion She Wrote

I meet up with Jessica Fletcher.  I’m really flattered an honoured.  It doesn’t occur to me in dream that she is a fictitious character.  In dream she’s a real investigative writer.  She says that she has a task or project for me if I’m interested.  Of course I’m interested.  This is my opportunity to shine.  She asks if I can research abortion.  How would it feel  going through or having been through an abortion?  I agree immediately.  At the time I think that it will be an interesting piece of editorial research.

I move into another scene (it was a very busy dream with lots of segments all flowing through each other).  I’m trying to get to ‘the office’.  It’s a weekend and all the factories are closed.  Everything is a sort of bleached faded grey.  It’s not overcast, just almost colourless.  ‘It’s just through this way’ I say to my companion.  But it turns out it isn’t ‘just this way’ That way is via another factory and there is a man there with a truck and a ‘boy’ helping him.  He doesn’t look happy at my intrusion.  He’s in a bad mood.  ‘Never mind’ I say; there are other ways in’.  But the both those roads in have huge potholes filled with water. Each way though to the office is blocked by ‘Atlas Copco’.  I don’t fancy my car getting stuck in that.

Somehow we get in.  It’s very bright inside.  So bright it hurts my eyes.  Bright and clean and organised and sparse.  ‘This is where I work’ I proudly tell my companion.  I’m beginning to have doubts and second thoughts about doing the research for abortion.  In truth I don’t like the dark ugly side of life and I fear that I may not be detached enough for it not affect me.  I begin to think of it in terms of law of attraction.  Where will this project, no matter how lucrative, take me along the vibrational scale?  I don’t see how I can be vibrating in love when I am researching and focusing on a state of despair.  In truth I believe I may have to decline the offer.

I see that a big new store is opening.  There a lot of hype about it.  It’s a concept store that will be a hub of creativity and solutions.  I am reading the advert, on the footnote I see Kony2012.  I wonder if I’m reading correctly.  I point it out to my companion.  I wonder if this is what I think it is I ask?  But why would they use this?

I get to a smoother calmer place, a much warmer welcoming place.  A place where I’m happy and I come into my self.  My companion asks me about the tides.  I’m so thrilled to be able to explain something that I’m learning and beginning to understand.  A cyclic rhythm and flow.  I say, ‘well there are spring tides and neap tides’.  A spring is every 7 days and a neap every seven days’.  I show my companion the wave they form and point out that it’s actually two circles, the neap inside the larger spring.  I tie it in with the phases of the moon. When I type this out, I see the information to my knowledge to date is incorrect, the tides neap and spring don’t follow the moon – but I don’t understand that because tides are the moon, and high and low follow the moon around in the sky?  I don’t really understand how it all fits together .  But in dream I do, and I’m ecstatic about understanding the forces and intelligence at work.  I love understanding the earth, the planets, the universe and how it all works.  My companion is impressed with how much I have learnt and understood in such a short time.  I’m proud of myself.

I have decided that I’m not going to on with the abortion research.  All that’s worrying me now is how to I decline a fantastic offer and opportunity like this.  I wrestle with feelings of being a quitter and a failure.

By chance I come upon the pre opening of the new concept store.  I’m quite amazed to discover that it’s extremely bright fluorescent like the office and it just looks like a stationery store.  It’s harsh and retail.  Lots of serviceable uninspiring things packed on shelves.  Standing outside is the main man.  He has invested a lot of money in this ‘concept’.  He says that he’s happy with what he has achieved but that it fell short of expectations.  He said that he required a manager with vision and imagination.  As I stand there I consider his words and know that I am such a person.  But that being tied to him, retail and great responsibility and huge financial expectation would kill of all idealism and creativity.  I realise with relief that I now know and accept enough about myself to not fall into this trap of people pleasing, approval seeking false sense of security within a highly competitive environment.  I feel sorry for the ‘main man’, I see his project doomed from the start.  He really did need somebody like me.

Ed Leedskalnin

I am a young fair-skinned blonde American girl about seventeen years old. It is the 1950’s or very early 60’s. I am with friends in a large square Art Deco style building painted in pastel sorbet colours. It’s all very ‘Miss American Pie’. I am clean wholesome and engaged to be married.

A little man appears whom I recognise as Ed Leedskalnin the creator of Coral Castle. In this dreamscape he is considered the town weirdo and is teased and bullied because of it. Everyone is wary of him and although he appears a little man there was a feeling that he was powerful and otherworldly. He seemed to everyone to have appeared out of nowhere.

Ed approaches the school and with telepathy communicates that he will killing all of us unless he gets one of us to willingly be sacrificed. I volunteer naïvely believing that my young friends will rescue me yet all the while the sensing that it was me he wanted anyway. Whilst my friends hide quietly inside the school building Ed leads me to a tarpaulin set up on the lawn outside and bids me to lie underneath it. The whole place is quiet and deserted. Until this point I had not considered that he would actually take my life and now I panic as I realise my fate. Ed holds a tool in his hands and is going to extract my heart. All he wants from me is my heart. I soon resign myself to death but am afraid of the pain the sharp claw like tool will cause. Ed pulls two vials from a little black bag with which to inject me. One is for pain and the other is an immobiliser to prevent me from struggling against him.
I plan to use one of the vials to escape once my friends emerge to rescue me, but soon that hope fades away and I sense that I am ‘done for’ as in one dose my consciousness ebbs away. There is no hatred or malice coming from Ed, in fact he loves me deeply. He is simply doing what he has to do.

He changes my form into many outfits of clothing trying to design my appearance more in line with his idea of me.
He opens my legs and adjusts something deep inside of me causing  a deep intense orgasm which ignites and shudders through every part of my being.

I am dying. I feel my life beginning to slip away – to fade.  All that is me fades to nothing and I flat line. As my last breaths of consciousness leave me and my heart stops beating, my being fills with love and forgiveness.  I whisper, ‘I forgive you, I love you, all is love’.
Ed keeps me in this suspended state for some time before he takes the new ‘dead’ me to a dirty ramshackle old place on the edge of a down and out suburb.
I know that in my earlier life the one from which he has abducted me, has gone and I must be dead.  Sad for the loss of my life I now feel that without him I am nothing – I would simply vanish.  My love and devotion holds me to him.
I begin a life of deep satisfaction and peace. We clean and empty the house or rubbish and the home we create becomes the centre of my universe. Ed and my life in this strange house become my life and I love the funny little man deeply and intensely. To the world outside we seem an ordinary blue-collar working class family. We keep our lives simple so as not to attract attention. Yet Ed does not need to work and there is always supply and between us we grow a family. Ed gives me two sons and a daughter and this is deeply fulfilling.

One day quite unexpectedly I discover a door in the passage of my home. I open the door and discover a mirror image of my home only this place is a squalid filthy deserted little squat.  It has boards around it that show me it has been condemned. I don’t understand how this place could have been there, how come I’ve never noticed before.

Two men in black arrive and want to take me away. They are implying that I am responsible for the squalid little place attached to my home. It is frightening and we are thrown into a panic. I am at the point I was when Ed abducted me and I realise i must sacrifice and resign myself to this fate to protect my family.

My last experience of my wonderful life is the agony of seeing my teenage daughter running along the passage towards me calling to me   bravely slip through the wall and into the squat next door.  The men in black bid me to sit at a table as if under interrogation. They remove the rings from my fingers one by one watching and waiting for a reaction. When they remove the thin black shiny metal band from my wedding finger my physical form and consciousness rapidly begin to fade. I realise that the little black band had held me in the form of life, suspended in a dimension of  Ed’s creation.  With the ring the MIB have what they came for. My time is over and I must finally surrender to death.

My Sandals Are Missing Presumed Stolen

I am in an unfamiliar house in an unfamiliar neighbourhood.  It is night there are lights on everywhere.  I am uncomfortable being there with these strangers and I want to go home.  I feel as if self-imposed prison because if I leave I may get lost.

There’s a bed in a hideous and untidy room. The bedspread is bile green floral with seventies style pillowcases.  The room is a perfect example of bad taste and mental disorder.  The whole place is chaotic without a point of focus or harmony.  As I lay on the bed two strange creatures hover over me and climb around me.  They look like Halloween characters.  They are quite laughable except that they are very menacing and seem intent on harassing me.

I find myself praying the blood of Christ over them and ordering them to leave in the name of Jesus.  I am surprised by my automatic behaviour and my dependence on a being outside myself to command lesser creatures to leave.  I sense that I am being lazy and because these creatures are completely new to me and rather persistent, the Jesus route is simply the easiest.  In the truest sense I simply want to be alone to sleep in peace.

Unable to take this nasty little house full of noisy strangers any longer, I gather my things to leave then discover that my shoes are missing.  The feeling of mortification and worst case scenario sends alarm bells ringing and gets my heart pounding.  At first, I think that they have been misplaced or put away, but once everyone else starts searching for them I begin to get a sinking feeling that a woman has stolen them.  The home owner, a pleasant enough fellow suggests that I take the shoes that have been left by the thief.  My heart stops and I am filled with absolute horror at the suggestion, for there in place of my beloved trusty leather Jesus sandals, are some cream plastic mules.  To me, they are hideous and I would rather go barefoot.  This is then what I must do as I leave the house.

My female guide is being very helpful, in fact everyone is being very accommodating and helpful, it is I who is being ‘fussy’ and uncompromisingly unreasonable.  Quite dramatic in truth. I follow her gingerly making my way over the unevenly cobbled dirty pavement in search of the thief.  I see my car and tell her that it’s filled with groceries.  She beckons that we will return for the groceries, now we are in pursuit of the return of  my shoes.  I feel the task is a hopeless one.  I sulkily assess my guide.  She has very frizzy brown hair and is wearing tight denim shorts.  Her look is not right for a middle-aged woman with chubby white legs.  My sense of time and space quickly become distorted and I begin to feel tired and panicky.  I am lagging behind.  The woman has led me down a grubby, dark alley in which lurk some very unsavoury looking characters. They hide in the shadows grimacing menacingly as if right out of the pages of a comic book.  Then in sudden contrast to the absolute decay and filth of the alley, hobbles a very young, very small deer.  She is beautiful, delicate and really, like myself, doesn’t belong there.  She is limping due to an old injury to her right hind leg.  I am afraid for her because I see how vulnerable she is and sense that these awful idiotic people will kick her about like a football.

The deer turns and looks at me sending me a message and then hobbles bravely on.  My heart breaks as I realise that she is lost and doomed to her fate but that she is telling me that I mustn’t walk any further down the alley.  I don’t belong in this place at all.

Dreamt: 20th April 2011

Enlightenment

I am swimming in a stretch of dark water which is inky sort of like a pea soup.  It’s not dark nor is it light – the light is monochromatic. I am a little off shore and swimming with my Mother who is young perhaps the age I am now or even younger.  We are more good friends than mother and daughter.  Suddenly I begin to get pulled by a very strong current.  Even though we are together in the water it is me being pulled out towards the open waters and my mother remains in the calm.  She begins to swim after me in a bid to rescue me, but the current is strong and fast and I can see that she wont be able to swim holding both of us against the tug.

I tell her to swim to shore and get help.  A boat is my only chance of rescue.  It is difficult letting her go, wondering if we will ever see each other again. Instead of blind panic I begin to resign myself to my fate.  Something is pulling me as if claiming its own and there is absolutely nothing I can do to prevent it.

Sharks begin to circle me and soon I will be gone.  I call for help from the spirits of the sea and a dark shape begins to manifest and form from the depths below.  At first I believe it to be dolphin energy buoying me up moving me against the tide towards the land.

My vision clears and see a giant turtle is carrying me on it’s back. The trusty, steady creature is calm and centred and carrying me safely to the shore.  My heart is filled with a deep gratitude and awe at this unexpected kindness.

On the shore two men holding fire torches meet me.  They are dressed in simple robes similar to the monks of old. They lead me to an old abbey created from heavy dark stone with thick wooden doors.  It is now nightfall. All communication is telepathic with no actual words spoken.  I am guided into a room and told to remove all my clothes and put on the robe.  There are other initiates both male and female and we are all expected to do this.  I wonder if I am meant to remove my underwear too and I find the thought of doing this strangely erotic. I decide to remove everything and just wear the robe. It is a rich brown and very soft thickly woven from the softest lamb’s wool not at all scratchy as I had imagined it to me.  The garment has no fastenings but is held closed with a yellow belt.

We are let into another room.  We all seem nervously excited and none of us know what to expect.  The two young men who met me at the shore explain to us that we are to form a select group of initiates and that we will open worlds and other realms. This will be a revolutionary higher spiritual order of being. We are then broken up into a smaller group and I am taken to a smaller room off the main room. Guided to stand with my back to the wall the leader holds my left hand and one of my fellow initiates holds on to my right.  My guide bids me to close my eyes.  As soon as I do I feel the beautiful pure energy of my guide begin to flow through me. But immediately I feel as though I have plugged into a force and energy of uniquely my own and that it is even more powerful than his and that both he and my brother can feel the surges and rhythms of light and flow moving through me and into them.  Although I am conscious of being in the room with the others my mind explodes to show a multiverse of depth and unimaginable proportions.  I see this in the form of many millions of orange pineal eyes undulating, moving and glowing filling me with exquisite, gentle soft light energy.

I am physically swaying and moaning with deep pleasure but my brothers are keeping me held upright.  Suddenly a dark hole begins to from in the fabric of the orange eyes.  It begins to disrupt the order of things and I am unable to seal it so it just grows larger until forced back into consciousness and back into the room. I look to my teacher feeling weak and raw from having been wrenched from the beauty of the cosmic light.  I begin to weep and he holds me tightly to him stroking and kissing my hair as if mopping up my pain. I feel so wretched I wished I could climb inside his body and stay there. Eventually I begin to recover my strength. I realise that I have not merely passed a test but have shown myself  in a different league to the others.  I have come as a quite a surprise to my teachers. I channel from the most direct natural source.  Once recovered I look accusingly at my fellow initiate standing regarding me sheepishly.  He’s whole demeanour expresses deep apology. He shows me that the groaning, undulating pulse flowing through me to him was physically arousing and as soon as he began to respond with an erection it tore a hole through the fabric of the pineal eyes.  Feeling better, I now see the humour in this and I hug him sharing laughter with the group.

Dreamt: 14 April 2011

Trapeze Dancer

I’m at place sort of like a large funfair.  I think I live within it or nearby.  It has a very relaxed holiday feel about it.  I’m not on holiday though.  I am there to explore my future and see what I can do.

There is a car park that looks like a drive-in or a roadhouse.  There are rows of cars parked on the tarmac and lots of high poles with double wires.  There are women dancing and walking on the wires.  It looks incredibly easy and a lot of fun.  I cannot see if they are moving in synch from rung to rung or remaining in one spot – but it has the sense of graceful fluid movement yet keeping with one’s own place.  I’m eager to join in and do so with great enthusiasm.  I get positioned towards the front of the group and change into a little diamante-studded leotard in a jewel colour. The music begins and I start my performance.  Thoroughly enjoying myself I believe myself to be doing splendidly.  I feel talented, outstanding, accomplished successful and sexy.  A woman in her prime equal to if not better than all the other women in the performance.

The performance ends and I realise that I have been in a test to see if I qualify for the job.  The lead dancer, who is an attractive leggy blonde woman of about 50 informs me that I have no rhythm and that my performance was half hearted.  She adds that I was not kicking my legs up with enthusiasm and height and that all in all I am just not the calibre dancer they require.

I’m shocked.  This isn’t rocket science.  It’s funfair entertainment, cabaret circus style for goodness sake!  The owner manager comes out from his booth and says; ‘Get rid of that woman.  She’s useless!’

A gentle soothing voice whispers,’ You don’t need to be one of these ‘girls’.  These ‘girls’ are doing this because they are trading on their good looks and no brains.  You have brains – you can do so much more than this.  This is just not you’.

My ego has been dented and I am dismayed at how my perception of my performance was so different from everyone else.  It had been so much fun and truly liberating. I see the truth in what he is saying, however, and it seems that I am simply not cut out to be a people pleaser.

Fertile Ground

I have been given a tract of land.  The ground is raised and forms a flat pyramid.  It sits right in the middle of  a very modern cityscape.  Distressed because I seem to have run out of money and resources an advisor tells me to look to the land.  The land is a gift and fertile in ways beyond comprehension – I can do absolutely anything with it, convert it into anything and because of it’s location it is in itself extremely valuable.

Having all these choices doesn’t make the dilemma any easier and any solution isn’t  a quick and  immediate because  it’sg oing to take thought and planning.  I feel frustrated.  I am very grateful for the gift, but confused and frustrated.

Dreamt: 1 February 2011 (Chinese New Year)