Dream Journal: 2016-12-07.01

I dreamt that I was sitting someplace dreaming of being driven to a ritual to be a non participating spectator. I had expressed my concerns about attending rituals and the catalytic role I often play unprompted (and undesired) as such events. My friends were not concerned.

The active ritual space was clearly marked out. Three rings of chalk, fragrant spices, and ash layered over the boundary I was not to cross. My friends and I sat at the table reserved for us, with two of them flanking me at my request so if something did happen, they would be able to seize me before I really fucked things up.

The ritual began, and for once, I was completely disinterested in the proceedings. Drums thundered and strings vibrated and voices altered in singing as more than flesh moved in the sacred spaces. My friends were taking notes and remarking amongst themselves about the display that was entertaining them.

I never noticed how numb and dry my mouth became.

The friend on my right noticed my silence and turned to voice a question. The moment they saw my face, their voice ceased. A warm hand carefully felt mine. “I found a pulse.” More silent faces watched mine. “She’s breathing.”

«It’s okay, Child. I haven’t sat here in a while and they didn’t expect an old woman to pay them a visit. Why don’t you sit over there and let this old woman have a day?»

I heard the voice clearly in my mind, with all the softness of a favoring grandmother and all the command of a determined matriarch. Suddenly, I was aware this was a dream, and I continued watching it from the viewpoint of the someplace I was sitting still and dreaming of the ritual from.

The spirit settled in my bones. A kindly aged voice came from my defiant throat to ask for a blanket to cover my strangely cold legs. The official participants were already coming to attend the spirit shivering in my body. A mug of hot coffee was placed on the table while a throw was tucked around my legs and layers of shawls were wrapped around my shoulders. I watched as the spirit in the dream lifted the white outer shawl to drape it over my head in an act of modesty.

My surprised friends were conflicted. Do they snatch my body and make for the exit? Or do they wait out the possession as for once, my body wasn’t under any severe stresses. The official helpers of the ritual made the decision for them, and took up positions around me.

The bulk of the dream was watching folk, some participating, some not, approach me and address me by a name I could not understand. They would then ask questions about moral quandaries, choosing between suitors or job offers, and acts of penance or supplication. Some of the answers I could hear and understand. Some of the answers were unintelligible noise to my dreaming ears.

The ritual was winding down, and my body was shivering to the point of my teeth chattering despite the layers of heavy cloth.

«Thank you, Child, for indulging an old woman’s whimsy. But before I leave you, I have advice for you as well. You have the skill, Child, but you do not have mastery. And you will not have mastery until you have honed the skill. Use the skill. I know you are afraid, but look how gentle I have been with you. I am not the only one who watches you, who is waiting for you. Take it back, Child. Take it all back and leave nothing more on the table.»

The spirit left my body and pulled me from the sitting dream back into the ritual dream. The mug of coffee had been replaced with a mug of strong black tea. My friends were anxious to get me away from the scene lest something more rowdy descend upon me.

We left the building and started across the parking lot to their car. A great and mighty spirit manifested itself in front of me, taking my hand and pulling me clear of my friends. I recognized it as the lord of the host of spirits that escorted me home the night I fell asleep on the freeway. It said it would take me home, and I woke up into the sitting dream.

Looking around, I realized the place I was in was some place I have never been in my waking life. I asked the window beside me if I was dreaming. It answered I was. I asked to wake up fully.

So I did.


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