All I have to do is dream, dream, dream…

Hi!  *waves*

I miss you.  Or my imaginary, personified version of you.  I’ve been seeing all these amazing posts at other’s sites lately, and it finally prompted me to just sit down and type, even if I have nothing structured to say.  So… here we go!

I’ve had a couple (or several) weeks spent working till anxious exhaustion overtakes me, but the cubicle stress has been offset by the pleasure of surprisingly witchy dreams to soothe me at night.  One in which I was enlisted by my aunts to do a dark working at that place special to our family, but they told me it would require digging up the graves of murderers on the property.  I told them that by my understanding I could just take some dirt from the graves to the same effect, and my cousin (the one I call “twin cousin” who shares my witchy flavor) said approvingly, “She really knows her stuff.”  (I do not feel that that comment was accurate, but it still felt very nice to hear, sleeping or awake.)  In the dream, I capitulated, and headed to a tiny witchy shop the size of a tollbooth to get some supplies.  The owner said to me as I was picking out my tools, “You have your amethyst, of course, for protection.”  I nodded, thinking to myself, um… no… so I decided to look at some amethyst jewelry as a backup.  Found some lovely and strange earrings, that I think I might ask the boy to help me make.  Tally of remembered protective amulets from dreams is now up to 2!

In another, after a fun little adventure in a cave deciphering sarcophagus hieroglyphs with my dad, and packing up crates of dark blue glass, I was sitting with my family in a golden field of tall grass making truly beautiful music I wish I had the ear to reproduce in waking life.  Mom suddenly swooned, and I rushed off to get a remedy for her, mostly consisting of sweetgrass, one white, and one red rose…

Around my birthday, I dreamt I bought an antique concertina with wrought iron handles that came with a musical journal/scrapbook written by the previous owner.  She had christened the concertina “Circe,” and her scrapbook was all full of glamourous ladies and death.  This, and the fact that I had by then dreamt of concertinas on numerous occasions oddly enough, prompted me to request help from my boy and parents to purchase a concertina for Christmas.  (I wisely settled on a less expensive but good quality beginner’s model, although I had a lot of fun browsing through the gold and rare wood ones…)  It is awesome, and I am so excited to be learning and playing music again.  It’s a challenge getting to know the button placement, but I have been practicing a little every day, and I’m already making playlists of songs I’d like to learn.  The boy is being sweetly tolerant of my honking, halting practice songs.  I now have a weird/awkward music corner with my concertina, my sitar and that baby-size classical guitar I dug out of my parent’s basement.  *claps*  All that’s missing are some bagpipes, and maybe a Turkish ney and some Orff instruments…

Oh!  I don’t think I’ve mentioned it yet, but I discovered a pagan friend at work!  It started with a conversation about bathing with flowers (yeah, I don’t know how we got on that topic either), and somehow we both asked enough vague, leading questions until we figured out neither of us had “whaaaa?” expressions when the other was talking about citrine spheres or smudging.  It’s kind of saving my work life at the moment.  I told him about my surprise serendipitous rendezvous this week in which I ran hastily away from work to catch a bus, missed it, and wound up at the library (which I thought was closed) drooling over a facsimile of a 1659 transcription of John Dee/Edward Kelley spirit channeling, then found THE book of sigils I had been wishing existed in the stacks.  I think we might take a little field trip after work one of these weeks so I can show them to him.

Anyway, new pagan work friend was telling me about some crazy dream effects he was feeling with amethyst and amber by his bed, so I took my amethyst beads I had picked up (after that protection dream, dontchaknow) and went to bed that night.  Dreamt that while walking through the country, the boy and I spotted a family hand dying wool in the most brilliant colors, spinning and weaving and knitting the greatest hats I’ve ever seen, and we decided to quit our “real” jobs and start raising alpacas.  We lived with my parents, and we had to keep a snake in the house to balance out the ecosystem… for some reason.  Mom wasn’t too thrilled about the giant green python sliding past her feet when she was in the bathroom, so we had to make it sleep outside the first couple of nights.  Somewhere in that same dream cycle I had an amazingly vivid still moment nose-to-nose with a horned stang that was quite wonderful, as well.

I don’t feel like I have been doing much that would earn me these dreams lately.  I haven’t done any rituals, no spellwork, no truly witchy reading (unless rereading “Mists of Avalon” is sufficient), no card consultations, not even any meditating or even  listening to many podcasts.  But who am I to look a gift horse – or alpaca – in the mouth?  I am loving it.  And I am finding a lot of inspiration in them for my non-work life that is making that other part we don’t like to talk about more bearable.

In case someone reads this and is inclined to respond, I’m curious what relationship others have with their dreams.  Do you remember your dreams?  Do you find overlap between your spirituality and your dreaming?  Do you take anything from your dreams and apply it to your waking life?  Dreams have kind of always been “my thang,” but I don’t know what others do with them.

So… I guess that’s about it for now.  Here’s a picture of my parents’ dog, just for fun:

Happy New Year!

Thanks for reading, and best wishes for 2012!

Yours,
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