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7 Dreams in 3 days: 1.8, 1.9, 1.10.15

January 10, 2015

{Iirc, today is the birthday of one of the Capricorn boys that I loved – although he’s all grown up now of course. When I knew him, long long ago, he had brown curly hair, pretty turquoise eyes, and an impish smile. Happy Birthday, Craig S2!}




I arrive at Yorktown Mall with my grandmother and other people. {In this dream-universe, Yorktown Mall is located near my grandmother’s house.} We get separated, but hey, I have my phone; when I feel like getting back together with them, I’ll just call them and we’ll find each other.

Realize I don’t have my phone with me. I haven’t memorized everyone else’s cell phone numbers. Erk.

As I’m looking at things in the mall, I focus on finding a small purse/bag with room for my phone, so I could be sure I always had it with me.

The bags I see that I like the best are orange, yellow, mossy green. I also look at one bag that is transparent, although it has some kind of fabric trim at the top. There’s a set of them: they all seemed to be coordinated for parents with babies or small children. I think about how nice it would be to be able to do a visual check of having the phone with me. But I don’t like thinking everyone else could see everything I had with me.

I need to go to a higher floor. Instead of just getting on the escalator that’s to my right, I try to jump over onto it. That doesn’t work. Now I’m somehow on . . . an elevator of sorts . . . but it’s teardrop shaped, and there are no walls. I’m at the top of the teardrop, and the other people are below me, in the rounded part where there is more room (and I think they have walls surrounding them). As the elevator moves upward, the walls around us separate, a bit, to make room for our passage. It’s very claustrophobic, as the walls, as we ascend, are allowing less and less room for us to pass. I’m breathing very carefully, keeping my mind as blank as I can so I can’t worry that I might be crushed.

Finally we arrive. It seems like we should be at the top of a tall building, but instead we’re on the first floor.

I tell someone I haven’t been “inside” Yorktown Mall since 1982.


I’m outside on a sunny warm day. Looking off into the distance, I see a meadow of flowers. It is swarming with yellow bees, which are so large (almost the size of hummingbirds) I can see them from where I’m at. Seeing so many bees, I feel hopeful, happy.

I have my camera with me, and I take pictures. I hope the photos will actually show what I saw, possibly even giving me more details.

Later, other people I know are romping around near the meadow, while I’m sitting quietly in a grassy spot. A very large young bird, with dark spiky-ish feathers [something like a New Zealander kiwi or kakapo] starts approaching me from a long way away. I watch it getting closer and closer; I’m wondering what it’s going to do. It comes right up to me, and somehow cuddles with my head (as if I were lying prone, not sitting).

It doesn’t say anything, and neither do I.

It stays for a while. In the back of my mind, I’m hoping some human being is noticing, and taking a photo, so I’ll have a record of this extraordinary moment.


I’m walking outside, with (my second-cousin) Amber, who is hugely pregnant. {In this dream-segment, I think we are both in our 20s.} She’s going through some difficult life issues. I give her a bear hug from behind, which surprises her (because historically we have not been close). I tell her if she wants to talk, I’m a good listener. But if she doesn’t want to talk, that’s okay too.

She’s walking a large boulder, and I am on the ground beside her, but suddenly the grasses I was among turn out to have been hiding a cut in the earth, leading to a small cave. I can see it approaching, but Amber sees nothing out of the ordinary. What I’m walking through becomes like quicksand, and I have to struggle to clamber out, and onto Amber’s boulder. She does not help, or even seem to notice.

The whole time, I’m talking, talking, talking. Part of me is observing my behavior from inside my head, noticing that I said it was a good listener but I’m not listening to her; but also noticing that I feel compelled to keep talking. I’m avoiding . . . something.

Later, we’re in a building (that might be part of Yorktown Mall), for a family party, and Aunt Annette shows up in her “wedding dress”, which is patchwork in many textures and colors, but includes panels that are brown-ish batiked rayon on the sleeves, green elsewhere, and on the torso, white cotton embroidered with pink flowers.




I’m outside, in the side yard at Gramma’s house. A forgotten hose is running water onto the driveway, inadvertently flooding a bunch of ants that were trying to get somewhere. In the back of my mind I remember that ants don’t like water, so I’m worried about what’ll happen to them. But they swim! Some swim underwater! Some of them link together in an ant-chain, and swim like that, curving through the water like a snake. I can see their air bubbles — it’s the coolest thing — I had no idea ants could do that!


I’m at some kind of large garden party thing. One of the people there is George Clooney, who (in the universe of this dream) I am a nodding acquaintance of. There is a shelving unit of stuff he owns. I’m drawn to the shelf with stationery items. I start pulling things out, and rearranging them. Someone else I know comes up to me, asks me what I’m doing. I say, “I’m putting cards together with prettier envelopes. I don’t expect George to keep things the way I’ve arranged them. But organizing things soothes me.”

{I wake up, with that sentence in the forefront of my mind: my unconscious directly told me a useful thing in words, so I should heed it.}


{Possibly connected to the garden party, possibly not.}

I’m outside, moving amongst groups of people, most of whom I do not know. I come to understand that this gathering is the funeral for a woman that I did not know, but she sounded interesting. I, and the friends of mine who have found me in the crowd, want to learn more about this woman, so we can properly pay our respects.

We, and some others, find a room where we can talk, compare notes, without risking upsetting her family. We have invited to join us a friend of her family who is willing to fill us in.

We sit in a rough circle. It’s all men except for me. As we begin talking, one guy starts trying to pull rank on the rest of us, while making it very clear that he “did not know the girl” and he “has no interest in the girl”. “Don’t we have better things to focus on?” he asks.

I look around the room. I see consensus on the faces of my friends (that they find him a boor), but no one is going to do anything. I stand up and walk over to him, grab him by the arm, and drag him to the door, which I escort him out of.



20-something single me visits my parents at their house, but they’re not home. My brother D is there, although he’s on the phone, a long time, with Craig S1. I keep showing up at his bedroom door, trying to let him know I want to talk to him. Eventually he takes the hint, gets off the phone, comes into the family room where I’m not really watching TV.

He tells me this confused jumble of a story about my parents taking J, Craig’s little sister, to some sort of sporting thing, 2 or 3 states over, that our brother N was also maybe involved in. {In this dream-universe, J and N are 14 or 15.} (As D talks, I’m wondering why C & J’s parents couldn’t just drive their daughter themselves.)

Finally, finally, D works himself around to talking about the only aspect of any of this that I really care about. But he does so after first turning the TV up (way too loud), and then talking over it, while clearly expecting me to also follow whatever program he’s now watching.

Instead, I have to keep closing my eyes to the sensory overload, so I can concentrate on hearing his words. (I wish I could get a written transcript, so I could pore over the details later.)

{In this dream-universe, Craig was my platonic friend well into young adulthood. A year or so before the timeframe of this dream, I had suggested to Craig that he and I should date each other. He turned me down. Apparently I kind of faded out of his life at that point, but he didn’t notice. He was working on some big project; he just assumed everything would go on as it always had.

I dated someone else for a while. Now I was single again. I wondered, had Craig ever noticed I wasn’t around anymore? Had he ever asked D about me?}

D tells me, carefully not looking at my face but at the TV screen, that he had talked to Craig several months ago, at which time Craig had said that he had changed his mind. “Your sister and I should date because we can both pool our knowledge!” were (among) his actual words to my brother. D had to tell him, gently, “Mea left 9 months ago.”

{In the dream-universe, this referred to me moving to another state, making a new life there.}

So in the conversation with Craig that day, it wasn’t clear if D had mentioned me, or not.

But I realized I didn’t really care anymore. In my body I could feel that the situation had resolved. I had long moved on, found a different life, and was much happier with people who saw me as a whole person, not as a tool for their own purposes. I even felt a little sorry for dream-Craig, and how limited his social life must be.


Interpretation to follow, as this is quite long enough already.

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