It’s that time of year again. October 28th is the feast day for Ma Ximon and I plan on honoring this masked spirit with cigars and hard liquor of some sort. Last night I woke to dreams of what I think was him, and it reminded me that this week is important to him. In this dream, he seemed to be the guardian of a stream that a group of us were walking along as we were tracking a person or animal. I had reached into the stream and pulled out two gorgeous, smooth, clear quartz crystals and was eyeballing a red agate when a light-brown skinned man in a straw hat and dressed in all linen appeared and was threatening us with a large, black shotgun. I told John to try speaking to him in Spanish to explain that we meant the land and water no harm, and I placed the crystals back in the water. As I was writing the dream down, Ma Ximon’s name and story came into my head. Whether or not this was truly Ma Ximon revealing himself in some kind of “mask”, was a separate entity, or was simply some dude featured in my dreamscape, I don’t know. But either way, it awakened me to the importance of the next couple of weeks for ancestor work and therefore, I will set up a little altar for him after class on Wednesday night, and John and I will share in his favorite offerings: smokey treats and sweet alcohol.
My dreams continued to be vivid and I was able to recall a few pages worth as I woke up for the morning. A few things of interest were the feature of a giant moon, and I mean GIANT. It was like something out of a sci-fi movie where the entire horizon was all moon, and I could see all the craters as if they were close enough to touch. It seemed to me that the moon was half-lit and half-in shadow, but not sure if it was waxing or waning. There was a mansion featured, and it was a creepy-looking old mansion that was not immaculately kept, but not deserted, either. A man came to me as I walked alone on a path and invited me for dinner in the mansion. My dad, his wife and my most recently deceased grandmother (my dad’s mom) were featured, as was a parade of Day of the Dead celebrants who were all young women and children in strollers. There seemed nothing spectacular about the scenes other than the imagery. All the speaking seemed very mundane and I could glean little about anything, but it was very vivid.