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bookofmirrorsLet me preface this by saying that I've had lots of dreams lately, but have usually opted for the lazy choice of lounging around in bed until the dream has mostly left me. This has been happening since I was at my parents' house in Indiana. Typically, I dream there, for whatever reason. I've had some of my most profound dreams there, in fact. But for some reason, I've continued to have them since I got home.
I was staying at some house. It was a relative of mine that I don't really have in real life. The house was nice, fairly modern and pretty clean, although I think it was an older house. The relative was an aunt of some sort, who wasn't particularly thought well of by the rest of the family. She had a little girl, maybe 5 or 6, although all I remember about her is that she had a doll with blonde braids named Marta.
I remember my cousin was there, amongst other people who are and aren't part of my real-life family. Although we were our current ages in the dream, we related to each other as we had when we were children, before she became a born-again Christian, and I became pagan. I remember at one point waking up. She was awake, too, and I was walking to or near the refrigerator, and noticed that my feet were wet. Somehow, something was dripping down the fridge, but we couldn't find the source. It had, however, dripped enough that my aunt's write-on-wipe-off calendar had been erased, for the most part. I wiped it off, pretty much finishing the job, and somewhere the calendar changed from a calendar to a memo board with writing on the top and corkboard on the bottom. Or perhaps it was just there in addition to the calendar. I remember being relieved that all the phone numbers and such at the top of it appeared to have been written in more permanent ink,'cause they didn't come off when I wiped off the water.
At that point, I walked over to another area of the kitchen, and was startled to be splashed by more water. In finding the source of it, I ended up in a closet that housed the washer and dryer. There was some sort of water source, like a faucet, but it swiveled, in the washer. It would swivel down under the water level in the washer (the lid was open), then swivel back up, and spit out water. For some reason, I was sure that this was NOT the source of the water on the fridge. Completly wrong angle, for one thing. Anyway, I was thinking that it was a weird design, but that apparently, if the lid had been closed properly, it wouldn't be doing that, but would be part of the normal wash cycle. I walked over the washing machine, and looked in it. There were some clothes, and I noticed that Marta was in there, too, which struck me as strange, because she wasn't exactly the type of doll that someone could wash. While I watched, and tried to reach in to get the stuff out of the washer, it was all suddenly sucked down into a drain at the bottom, which was really not big enough for all that stuff to fit. Clothes, Marta, and two bundles of straws which I hadn't noticed before (the kind you drink with - one was multi-colored, the other white) all got sucked down. My cousin had been too far away to see this, so I showed her the remains of the empty washer, and told her what happened. She and I both agreed this was weird, and also agreed that we had both noted that something weird happened just about every morning in this house.
At some point in the dream, I had left to go somewhere. I was driving/riding this scooter-like thing. Almost like a go-cart, low to the ground, and open, very tiny, with only room for myself (although in the dream, it went back and forth as to whether there was someone with me or not). I was driving along, and noticed this non-descript black mutt-type (sometimes it was a dachsund) running along the side of the road. It whimpered when I rode by, so of course I stopped to see if it was OK. I got the impression it was lost, so after some coaxing, I got it to come over to me. It seemed like once it made the plunge to come to me, it pretty much trusted me completely, as if it knew I was trying to help it. I ended up going into this hotel nearby so I could talk to someone, use a phone, etc.. (Apparently, I didn't have my cell, 'cause that never occured to me.)
I talked a little to the guy at the desk, who looked a tad like the snooty waiter from Ferris Bueller's Day Off, except that he wasn't snooty, and looked for tags on the dog. First, all I could see were tiny tiny little hearts, with two-digit numbers on them. Nothing that would help me identify dog or owner. Finally, though, I found a tag that said something about a name of a hotel, the owner's name (simply "Donna") and the dog's name, Fred. Among myself, the hotel receptionist, and my on-again-off-again passenger, we determined that what the somewhat cryptic tag meant was that this dog was owned by an ex-convict named Donna, who lived in one of those hotels that offer cheap-ass apartments for people to live in, and who was apparently on vacation, 'cause the name of the hotel on the tag wasn't one that any of us were familiar with in this town. So, we took off to go see if we could scour the hotels for this Donna chick.
I don't know if we actually did look in any hotels. Seems like I have the vaguest of memories that one or two was attempted, but we must have been unsuccessful, 'cause Fred went home with me.
The family didn't seem to mind much, as if they expected as much of me, and took it pretty well. However, at one point, when Fred, who was apparently not as housebroken as he could have been, went into a corner (behind what looked like a Christmas tree, complete with presents, although I had no impression that it was Christmas) and started doing suspicious things, my father got up and shooed him out the door. There were two doors about equal distance from my father at the time; one opened into the fenced-in backyard, the other opened into the non-fenced front yard. (This is actually a pretty similar setup to my parents' house.) My father, for whatever reason, opened the one to the front yard and shooed Fred out. I went chasing after him, afraid he was going to run away. I was chastising my dad for opening the wrong door, and thinking that he must not really like Fred, because he was doing to him what he was always telling me to do to my cats - open the door and let them run, and be done with them. Of course, this didn't set well with me, and I was able to shoo Fred into the fenced portion of the yard.
Interestingly enough, when I went outside, the first thing I noticed was that the ground was covered in brightly-colored fall leaves. Previously in the dream, it had been perfect summer weather. In fact, it was pretty much still perfect summer weather, but for this carpet of leaves. But they didn't really look like leaves, more like scraps of silk made to somewhat resemble leaves. They didn't cover the ground completely, but there was probably about 3 inches between all of them. I remember thinking that was interesting, and that fall had come suddenly, since none of the leaves (or any other indication of autumn) had been there when I had been outside about an hour earlier. I also remember thinking that, well, it was Thanksgiving (or within a day of it, which suddenly made it make sense that all the family was here), so it was bound to happen sooner or later.
By the time I got through contemplating this and followed Fred into the fenced area, he was in the pool, swimming. This surprised me a bit. The pool morphed into more like a lake, because suddenly, swimming next to him was what I perceived as being the neighbor's dog, another black mutt-type, but more like a small lab mix. I remember seeing Fred swimming towards him, and was hoping they didn't fight. Then I noticed another dog in the water. (All the dogs in the water were black, actually.) I started to wade out into the water, suspecting trouble. Then I noticed Neg was swimming in the water, as well. As I watched, more dogs and more of my cats just started appearing in the water, generally swimming towards each other. Fighting ensued. I would blink and see a couple of dogs fighting, blink again, and see a dog twisting around in the water with Whimsy and Smithers attacking him (they had claws in the dream), blink again, same dog, different cats, blink, change, blink, change, but always fighting. People starting getting into it, too. Neighbors - the family seemed oblivious to this from inside the house. But the lake/pool apparently joined several houses, and people started jumping in. I remember one was this blonde older actor I've seen in several movies, but can't remember his name. I was swimming in the middle of all this, starting to have a feeling of helplessness come over me. I could see that these animals were out for blood, although none of them were attacking me. They were, however, starting to attack the other people in the water.
Somehow, from somewhere, a voice, or a person, or something, told me something to the effect of that I needed to relax, gather my energy, and then I would be better able to deal with this situation. So I closed my eyes, and concentrated on doing so. I think I was underwater at this point, but I don't remember for sure. I remember sucking in the ambient energy around me, finding my own, remembering how clearly I felt it, the calming power of it. I wasn't completely calm, but certainly calmer, more confident that I could do something about what was going on.
When I felt ready, I opened my eyes. And the pool was empty. I was alone. I looked all around, and finally saw, across the lake/pool, the blonde actor guy, lying at a weird angle, like several bones were broken, unresponsive. I knew he was dead. There was a well-dressed woman crying over him, dressed in red, but classic clothes, like you'd expect at a funeral, including the little clutch purse and the pill-box hat with the veil. I asked her what had happened, and she either couldn't answer me for crying, or didn't know.
I was terrified at this point. Not so much for what had happened, I don't think, but that all the animals had disappeared. I didn't know where they were, and I didn't know if they were OK. I think the fact that my own cats were in that category as well, made it worse.
I ran into the house, where no one particularly paid attention to me. I ran into this little room that I didn't remember noticing before, but turned out to be a confessional, all dark intricate wood carvings and thick red velvet. As I was running into the room, I remembered suddenly being there before. At that point in the dream, the feel of the house I was in shifted. There was a sense of it being MY house. Not my house as in I owned it, but the dream house that I know represents myself, although this was a room I'd never encountered before. It had that same feel, though. Anyway, I went running through the confessional, past the part where the penitant kneels, past the part where the priest sits (which was empty) and down some stairs, where I ended up in similarly-furnished rooms, lit by torches on the wall, and full of priests and the like. I ended up running straight to the bedroom of the head priest (somehow I just knew where all this was), and kneeling on a low ottoman behind and to the right of him as he sat at his desk. I was still shaking all over.
"Ah," he said. "Trembling in the face of God."
This wasn't really accurate. In the dream, I was still pagan, and had no need to tremble before any god. But I was scared, and I did want some sort of explanation, and, for whatever reason, I had come to this place to get it. It was close enough to the truth, and I didn't really feel I had the time to go into a discussion on how pagans just don't DO that sort of thing. (Well, I don't, anyway.)
So, I nodded in agreement.
And then I woke up.
I was staying at some house. It was a relative of mine that I don't really have in real life. The house was nice, fairly modern and pretty clean, although I think it was an older house. The relative was an aunt of some sort, who wasn't particularly thought well of by the rest of the family. She had a little girl, maybe 5 or 6, although all I remember about her is that she had a doll with blonde braids named Marta.
I remember my cousin was there, amongst other people who are and aren't part of my real-life family. Although we were our current ages in the dream, we related to each other as we had when we were children, before she became a born-again Christian, and I became pagan. I remember at one point waking up. She was awake, too, and I was walking to or near the refrigerator, and noticed that my feet were wet. Somehow, something was dripping down the fridge, but we couldn't find the source. It had, however, dripped enough that my aunt's write-on-wipe-off calendar had been erased, for the most part. I wiped it off, pretty much finishing the job, and somewhere the calendar changed from a calendar to a memo board with writing on the top and corkboard on the bottom. Or perhaps it was just there in addition to the calendar. I remember being relieved that all the phone numbers and such at the top of it appeared to have been written in more permanent ink,'cause they didn't come off when I wiped off the water.
At that point, I walked over to another area of the kitchen, and was startled to be splashed by more water. In finding the source of it, I ended up in a closet that housed the washer and dryer. There was some sort of water source, like a faucet, but it swiveled, in the washer. It would swivel down under the water level in the washer (the lid was open), then swivel back up, and spit out water. For some reason, I was sure that this was NOT the source of the water on the fridge. Completly wrong angle, for one thing. Anyway, I was thinking that it was a weird design, but that apparently, if the lid had been closed properly, it wouldn't be doing that, but would be part of the normal wash cycle. I walked over the washing machine, and looked in it. There were some clothes, and I noticed that Marta was in there, too, which struck me as strange, because she wasn't exactly the type of doll that someone could wash. While I watched, and tried to reach in to get the stuff out of the washer, it was all suddenly sucked down into a drain at the bottom, which was really not big enough for all that stuff to fit. Clothes, Marta, and two bundles of straws which I hadn't noticed before (the kind you drink with - one was multi-colored, the other white) all got sucked down. My cousin had been too far away to see this, so I showed her the remains of the empty washer, and told her what happened. She and I both agreed this was weird, and also agreed that we had both noted that something weird happened just about every morning in this house.
At some point in the dream, I had left to go somewhere. I was driving/riding this scooter-like thing. Almost like a go-cart, low to the ground, and open, very tiny, with only room for myself (although in the dream, it went back and forth as to whether there was someone with me or not). I was driving along, and noticed this non-descript black mutt-type (sometimes it was a dachsund) running along the side of the road. It whimpered when I rode by, so of course I stopped to see if it was OK. I got the impression it was lost, so after some coaxing, I got it to come over to me. It seemed like once it made the plunge to come to me, it pretty much trusted me completely, as if it knew I was trying to help it. I ended up going into this hotel nearby so I could talk to someone, use a phone, etc.. (Apparently, I didn't have my cell, 'cause that never occured to me.)
I talked a little to the guy at the desk, who looked a tad like the snooty waiter from Ferris Bueller's Day Off, except that he wasn't snooty, and looked for tags on the dog. First, all I could see were tiny tiny little hearts, with two-digit numbers on them. Nothing that would help me identify dog or owner. Finally, though, I found a tag that said something about a name of a hotel, the owner's name (simply "Donna") and the dog's name, Fred. Among myself, the hotel receptionist, and my on-again-off-again passenger, we determined that what the somewhat cryptic tag meant was that this dog was owned by an ex-convict named Donna, who lived in one of those hotels that offer cheap-ass apartments for people to live in, and who was apparently on vacation, 'cause the name of the hotel on the tag wasn't one that any of us were familiar with in this town. So, we took off to go see if we could scour the hotels for this Donna chick.
I don't know if we actually did look in any hotels. Seems like I have the vaguest of memories that one or two was attempted, but we must have been unsuccessful, 'cause Fred went home with me.
The family didn't seem to mind much, as if they expected as much of me, and took it pretty well. However, at one point, when Fred, who was apparently not as housebroken as he could have been, went into a corner (behind what looked like a Christmas tree, complete with presents, although I had no impression that it was Christmas) and started doing suspicious things, my father got up and shooed him out the door. There were two doors about equal distance from my father at the time; one opened into the fenced-in backyard, the other opened into the non-fenced front yard. (This is actually a pretty similar setup to my parents' house.) My father, for whatever reason, opened the one to the front yard and shooed Fred out. I went chasing after him, afraid he was going to run away. I was chastising my dad for opening the wrong door, and thinking that he must not really like Fred, because he was doing to him what he was always telling me to do to my cats - open the door and let them run, and be done with them. Of course, this didn't set well with me, and I was able to shoo Fred into the fenced portion of the yard.
Interestingly enough, when I went outside, the first thing I noticed was that the ground was covered in brightly-colored fall leaves. Previously in the dream, it had been perfect summer weather. In fact, it was pretty much still perfect summer weather, but for this carpet of leaves. But they didn't really look like leaves, more like scraps of silk made to somewhat resemble leaves. They didn't cover the ground completely, but there was probably about 3 inches between all of them. I remember thinking that was interesting, and that fall had come suddenly, since none of the leaves (or any other indication of autumn) had been there when I had been outside about an hour earlier. I also remember thinking that, well, it was Thanksgiving (or within a day of it, which suddenly made it make sense that all the family was here), so it was bound to happen sooner or later.
By the time I got through contemplating this and followed Fred into the fenced area, he was in the pool, swimming. This surprised me a bit. The pool morphed into more like a lake, because suddenly, swimming next to him was what I perceived as being the neighbor's dog, another black mutt-type, but more like a small lab mix. I remember seeing Fred swimming towards him, and was hoping they didn't fight. Then I noticed another dog in the water. (All the dogs in the water were black, actually.) I started to wade out into the water, suspecting trouble. Then I noticed Neg was swimming in the water, as well. As I watched, more dogs and more of my cats just started appearing in the water, generally swimming towards each other. Fighting ensued. I would blink and see a couple of dogs fighting, blink again, and see a dog twisting around in the water with Whimsy and Smithers attacking him (they had claws in the dream), blink again, same dog, different cats, blink, change, blink, change, but always fighting. People starting getting into it, too. Neighbors - the family seemed oblivious to this from inside the house. But the lake/pool apparently joined several houses, and people started jumping in. I remember one was this blonde older actor I've seen in several movies, but can't remember his name. I was swimming in the middle of all this, starting to have a feeling of helplessness come over me. I could see that these animals were out for blood, although none of them were attacking me. They were, however, starting to attack the other people in the water.
Somehow, from somewhere, a voice, or a person, or something, told me something to the effect of that I needed to relax, gather my energy, and then I would be better able to deal with this situation. So I closed my eyes, and concentrated on doing so. I think I was underwater at this point, but I don't remember for sure. I remember sucking in the ambient energy around me, finding my own, remembering how clearly I felt it, the calming power of it. I wasn't completely calm, but certainly calmer, more confident that I could do something about what was going on.
When I felt ready, I opened my eyes. And the pool was empty. I was alone. I looked all around, and finally saw, across the lake/pool, the blonde actor guy, lying at a weird angle, like several bones were broken, unresponsive. I knew he was dead. There was a well-dressed woman crying over him, dressed in red, but classic clothes, like you'd expect at a funeral, including the little clutch purse and the pill-box hat with the veil. I asked her what had happened, and she either couldn't answer me for crying, or didn't know.
I was terrified at this point. Not so much for what had happened, I don't think, but that all the animals had disappeared. I didn't know where they were, and I didn't know if they were OK. I think the fact that my own cats were in that category as well, made it worse.
I ran into the house, where no one particularly paid attention to me. I ran into this little room that I didn't remember noticing before, but turned out to be a confessional, all dark intricate wood carvings and thick red velvet. As I was running into the room, I remembered suddenly being there before. At that point in the dream, the feel of the house I was in shifted. There was a sense of it being MY house. Not my house as in I owned it, but the dream house that I know represents myself, although this was a room I'd never encountered before. It had that same feel, though. Anyway, I went running through the confessional, past the part where the penitant kneels, past the part where the priest sits (which was empty) and down some stairs, where I ended up in similarly-furnished rooms, lit by torches on the wall, and full of priests and the like. I ended up running straight to the bedroom of the head priest (somehow I just knew where all this was), and kneeling on a low ottoman behind and to the right of him as he sat at his desk. I was still shaking all over.
"Ah," he said. "Trembling in the face of God."
This wasn't really accurate. In the dream, I was still pagan, and had no need to tremble before any god. But I was scared, and I did want some sort of explanation, and, for whatever reason, I had come to this place to get it. It was close enough to the truth, and I didn't really feel I had the time to go into a discussion on how pagans just don't DO that sort of thing. (Well, I don't, anyway.)
So, I nodded in agreement.
And then I woke up.
