I’ve had trouble remembering my dreams in any great depth lately but here’s what little I can recall from the weekend past. I lay in bed a long time each morning to try and keep the memories, but they were slippery at best alas.
1. Meeting team mates, nearly all in child-form but not all, in a sort of club house between worlds. We’d recently come from visits to worlds parallel to each of our own world. We were separated into groups that came, more or less, from the same world frame. Mine was Earth for instance, to include all of the parallel earths through time focus and space.
We were all mature adults, but most of us were in our child forms of various ages. This was to prevent the matter/anti matter collisions or frequency nullification that might occur if two of our identical selves should meet. We always travelled in a physical form younger or older than the one whose reality we were visiting. They might find us familiar if they met us, but they wouldn’t come apart at the seams for it. I don’t expect this to make sense to anyone. It was just the dream logic at work.
The club house was where we gathered to have our experiences scanned and disseminated to all in the form class-room like lessons taught by the teacher/avatar that had scanned us. The mission was to map the realities.
My mother was there not as a child but as a young woman in her mid-20s. She was not exactly the mother of my own reality however but came from where another me was a 7-year-old. I’d visited her there in my 12-year-old form and, being a traveller herself, albeit newly recruited, she recognized me as a fellow Traveller, but couldn’t get past the idea of my being her “little girl.” Hence, when the lesson went from how to identify liars to how to cast certain spells, she freaked out and nearly bit the avatar in half in her protest against me or “the other children” being taught any magic. She treated the topic as an “evil one” and had energetically to be calmed down by others present.
My daughter Amy was there too. In our reality, she’s 27. In the club house, she was in her 7-year-old form.
And that’s pretty much all I can recall.
2. My 3rd cousin Kenny called me long distance to tell me he was building a 2nd sailboat and wanted me to come aboard.
I hadn’t known there was a first one and, for various other reasons, couldn’t decide how to respond. And that’s all I really remember of that dream except for the thoughts it triggered in me upon awakening:
I thought of my Uncle Allen who in “real” life had built a sailboat from an old life boat. He’d outfitted it beautifully with hand carved woodwork even to include a mermaid for the prow, velvet cushions, teak, and brass inside, with all the comforts of a really excellent motor home. It took him years to finish it.
When he finally took it out for the first time, out on the Puget Sound, he ran smack dab into a sudden storm and got swept overboard. Luckily, the boat was close to shore when that happened and he was able to swim to shore but his beautiful opus was smashed on the rocks and his wallet lost in the sea. His second stroke of luck was that the money from his wallet washed ashore with him and he was able to collect it all back up, wet and bedraggled as he (and it) was.
I thought of my “uncle” Dave, who was really Kenny’s uncle, who happened to have been in love with my mother in vain. She liked him but didn’t love him that way. When I was 12, she divorced my father and Dave showed up at our door, saying she could marry him now. They’d travel the Americas together in his motor home (really an old school bus he’d turned into a motor home) before finally settling into an A-frame in the mountains.
She gave him a wide-eyed, incredulous look and said “No. Absolutely not,” in no uncertain terms.
He was angry about it and as crushed as that sailboat on the rocks. Cupid’s a wicked little prick at times. But that’s life.