Dreams

I'm entering a phase about ready to write. I even decided to turn off the TV. It's just getting in my way. And sure enough, for the last two days, when I got home I didn't turn on the TV. I did stuff as I felt, got some stuff done, and even took a nap once. I didn't get much writing done, but I'm opening the way for my muse. And today -- well, a big snowstorm hit last night. We've gotten a foot so far. And it's been snowing all day in Albuquerque, so the first time that I can remember, CNM has closed.

One of the things that makes me think I'm getting to my writing phase is my dreams. Two nights ago I dreamed all night. (At least it felt like that.) At one point, I woke up thinking, Wow, this could be a kid's story. I could sell it. I had it there, all laid out. I thought about writing it down, but I was too comfortable and absolutely sure that I would remember it. So I fell back asleep.

Then I dreamed this dream about my dad (who's dead now, but was alive in the dream). I dreamed that we were traveling along together -- were we on a motorcycle? Going to some destination for me. But at some point, we took a different route. I gathered that Dad wanted to make this side trip for some reason and was sure we'd be on our way soon.

We got to a point where the road was blocked. We were on one side (of a gulch?) and could see where we wanted to be -- over there, on the other side of the gulch -- but there was no road to cross over. So we turned back to our original road, and I thought we were on our way again. But instead, we took a longabout route to get where Dad wanted to go. As it turns out, he wanted to go because it was a family gathering. His mother's funeral (?) and he wanted to honor her. So we hung around with all the people we didn't know and did what we were supposed to. It was outdoors in a piney woods, on a very steep hill. When everything had been done, Dad came and found us and we started on our trip again. Other people were leaving, too, so there was quite a bit of traffic.

The road was icy and slippery, and at some point, we ended up BELOW the road encased in the ice, and we were struggling to get out (stretching out the ice) when I woke up. What stuck with me about this dream was the feeling that my dad wanted to honor his mother.

Early in the morning, I remembered that I had dreamed another dream, a child's story, but I couldn't remember it. All day, I couldn't remember it. Then late in the evening, something snapped, and I remembered it, or at least something about it.

I remember thinking to myself that there was no option, I was just going to have to tell Mom. Up until this point, we (my friends, three other girls, who lived next door and I) were supposedly going swimming at the city swimming pool, but instead, we were really going to a pond. A magical pond that on one edge (and down deep into the water) had a kind of fancy building -- a castle? And we had to hold our breath to try to see everything under the water. There were fish -- colorful, magical fish, like some kind of fancy seahorse-mermaids. We hadn't explored everything we wanted to, and somehow we discovered that the city was going to fill in the pond and put something else there. We didn't know how to stop the city, but I figured my mother could do it. She'd be disappointed that we had lied to her, but she would help.

I told my friends as we spent the night in a tent equally distant from our three houses. It was like a little cul-de-sac in our own little neighborhood (although there were houses not ours -- boys lived in those) -- then I wondered if the boys would be interested in helping us.

That was my dream.

For some interpretation -- I have found that bodies of water (and how I get into them) have to do with my spirituality. The traveling, of course, is going along the path of life. There's something significant about the steep hill (and in other dreams, bleachers) but I haven't figured that out, yet.