Those Who Move

Things are starting to happen, dreams are easier to recall and are filled with messages about balance. Everything I dream seems to have the black and white theme again. I’ve started recalling and writing down my dream snippets throughout the night, sometimes getting up three times during the night to journal them. They’ve been getting more and more detailed, yesterday I think it took 3-4 pages to get down all the details I could recall. There are familiar players, of course, but also significant strangers in my dreams. I’m not quite sure sometimes if they are friends or foes; sometimes I’ve run from them, other times not. It’s strange because the dream world is starting to feel more and more like this world in that I’m starting to trust my instincts and follow them, rather than simply feeling like I’m watching a film flash on a screen. I feel more like an active participant.

As I woke up from one of the dreams, two days ago, maybe three, I lie awake thinking I should get up and start getting ready for the day, I suddenly started to see something, a vision, as I call this type of thing. Though this was not a mundane world vision, it was from another place. As it came into focus I saw a skull, and it moved its head and sunken eyes to look at me, then hundreds of dead things lying around a scene, a whole landscape, and suddenly they were moving, they were living (but dead and rotting). Then it morphed slowly into snow, as if the snow were covering all the scene, blanketing the dead, as a real winter would, and there were giant mounds of snow all around and wind blowing, then it morphed again into the slow melt of spring and the buds on the trees came to life and rain was falling, and then it morphed again into a beautiful, still scene of summer. In this vision, there was only grey, black and white for coloring. It looked very similar to old reliefs from my art history class; like the Feast of Herod or something. I held focus on this vision for longer than any other, and I tried to stay in the scene, return the focus, but it slowly drifted out of my “view”. Kinda cool 🙂

My Hubby had a really sad, but yet cool, dream about his mom (who is deceased). He was in a library with his aunt, his mothers identical twin sister, and they were talking at a table. Suddenly, his mom walked up, and they both looked at her startled and he said, “Mom! What are you doing here!?!” and she said she’d just come for a visit. They sat and talked for a long while. Then they walked up a huge staircase with a door at the top, and she told them, “You can come with me, but you will not be able to see. It will be completely dark for you.” And as she opened the door, there was no light whatsoever, no light even shining in from the library into the dark as it would in our world. Hubby started to back away and said, “I don’t think I can go in there.” He said his goodbyes to them, and they both went into the door. When he told me this, I broke down. I felt happy that she visited him in a dream because she had already come to me in mine last year sometime. Neither of us are sure what it means for his aunt, though I suspect that perhaps since the offer was extended to both, that maybe it was just a functional thing and not an omen of physical death: humans, those of us who can see, depend so much on our physical eyes and not enough on our inner eyes. Maybe he would have been safe but simply seeing with different eyes. This kind of thing is a source of great fear for most of us, him included, I expect. To humans, it seems, to know that kind of vast blackness is to feel lost, and maybe even dead. I theorize that our inner vision comes from the place I like to think of as our “spark”. That thing that makes each and every thing a speck of stardust. Very interesting dream.

In other news: I’ve written out ideas for a pathworking that I may try when I feel ready. I’m sure I’ve mentioned before my short-term memory problems, and this issue worries me a bit when I think about performing certain rituals, spellwork, or pathworking. My worry is that I’ll be walking the path and not find my way back safely, psychologically speaking. But after writing out a few ideas on how one might stay safe, as they would prepare for any journey, I feel much more relaxed about it. It is my own mind after all (of course, that is also my chief concern). If the mind sets the parameters appropriately, and with conviction, it should be able to utilize whatever it might need and summon the right thing for the right moment. So in writing it out, I planned for every emergency and need by “packing a magical bag”, which I envision very much like Hermoine’s bottomless satchel in Harry Potter: Deathly Hallows. What might one need, say, if one stumbles into a world without heat, or food? Might I need my tools, scrying bowl, cards, offerings, matches to light my way in case my eyes don’t see? So, I packed all of that in the magical bag. There’s a coat, boots, rain gear, matches, a tent for shelter if needed, food and drink for myself, there’s a belt with holsters and places for all of my tools (a magical tool belt!), sacred places for my cards, pendulum, scrying bowl, there’s offerings of every sort: bread, oats, honey, milk, dried fruit, nuts, wine, mead and ale, incense, there’s a mental GPS system to help me find my way (and there’s always the old fashioned breadcrumbs to leave a trail, or perhaps white stones, red ribbons to tie to trees or the like), and there’s the library of information in my mind. Just like my sacred spiral and my sparkly body sheath of invisibility, I realize that whatever I put into it is fine because this is, after all, a place inside with different rules and yet, similar somehow. I guess I think of it like (you can laugh if you want) in Star Wars when Luke asks Yoda, “What’s in there?” and Yoda replies, “Whatever you take with you.” Since these are neither places I’ve ever been, at least knowingly with intent, nor a place in a movie, I’m going to prepare as much as I can. That’s very much the type of person I am. I prepare.

I’m pleased to say though that I’m feeling like the most important magic is the daily magic I create every day by living, loving, and doing things that are important to me. Having experiences in this realm, enjoying and experiencing everything there is here. Feeling love, sadness, cold, warmth, pain, and unabashed joy. Hubby and I snuggle so much now, it’s beyond any other comfort or joy I know, and when our little kitty comes to snuggle with us, we’re complete in our little love pod. We’ve been cooking meals together, enjoying trying new recipes and watching our silly shows. I love the hermitude of winter, snuggled safely inside with the love of my life 🙂

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