water and napkins

So, I've been nerding out on a particular astrologist who deals with astrology from a depth psychology perspective. Among the many interesting posts she makes are weekly posts that give a day by day explanation of what's happening with the planets that week. Friday's entry included the following:

"The first celestial shift of the day occurs at 3:32am when mercury moves out of Gemini and into Cancer. the conscious mind and intellect's shift from Gemini to Cancer is from air to water, intellect to emotion, Spirit to Soul. With Mercury moving into the mothering sign of Cancer, conversation and communication can take on more watery, emotional, nurturing undertones. Speaking from the heart is supported in the coming weeks- as is focusing on the home, family and inner life environment." (emphasis mine)

I note this simply because I had some weird ass dreams early Friday morning, so much so that I woke up and drafted text messages to myself to remember them. This happened at about half past three. I've outlined the dreams below, since this blog has become a bit of my own personal dream archive.

Dream #1

I was attempting to navigate class 5 rapids alone and narrowly avoided my own potential death. I don't know why I was there, or really what I was doing. There was some kind of chute that had been constructed in the waterway. It had two tiers, one dropping water into another that further opened onto a particularly rough patch of water. Then the river continued on to the rapids. I was floating across the water in the top of the first tier in a small, round inflatable raft. I remember running my hands along the edging, afraid that the chute might open, while at the same time not really understanding the danger.

A carload of strangers pulled up to the side of the waterway and shouted at me to get out of the water. They said it was the worst part of the season and explained high high tide and high low tide. They also told me that the Eel River, which is where I was, was notorious for its dangerous rapids. Apparently the chute is where adventurous tourists would drop in and then directly head toward the violent, churning whitewater. (Later, I checked into the Eel River and found it is an actual river, and the Dos Rios to Alderpoint section of Eel River in California is 47 miles long and is classified as a class II-IV section. Weird.)

The next thing I knew, I was standing on top of a platform on the first tier of the chute and an old friend of mine who I used to work with at Kepler's Books was saying that he didn't understand how the whole thing worked. He leaned on a lever that dropped the platform and sent me flying over the edge to the second tier. My bag, which had been on the platform with me, was tipped over and the contents emptied onto the second tier. Water began rushing on top of me and I knew that as soon as enough water had dumped on me the second tier would open and I'd be sent straight down the chute into the rapids without so much as a raft. My friend absent-mindedly pushed the lever again and the flow of water stopped. I was soaked. I picked up my bag to find that my cell phone was still in it and completely dry. I was injured and wet, but otherwise OK.

Dream #2
I was sitting down to dinner at an outside table with B, and also R's friend Ryan. There were other people there, but I don't recall whether I knew them or if they were with us. Then a girl I used to know (in the dream, though not actually in real life) sat down to the table and began complaining about the explosive arguments she regularly got into with the man she loves. I told her "I might almost prefer that to the back and forth of 'I'm in this, wait, no I'm not, I don't feel that way, except, I love you, and we should do this, but I'm scared, well, I'm something, and anyway I want to be with other people, only, I love you, so, maybe I should go' and me going, 'okay. eviscerate me. again.'" The girl said, "If it works for you it doesn't matter that nobody understands it."

The girl and I then walked to R's old apartment, which he'd recently moved out of, and we went inside where we found various items that R and other former tenants had left behind. Most of the things we found were not particularly noteworthy, but then I saw a partial set of my cloth napkins and place mats strewn about the apartment. I remember feeling really annoyed by this and then going around collecting my things and stuffing them into a plastic sack. I remember not knowing how or why R had these things in the first place.

disclaimer

Man, I love clearing stuff out. I love the fragments I find. Things scribbled on tattered scraps of paper that at some point I'd found intensely amusing or important. At the very least, these were things that it felt useful to write down, as though they may one day have a good home somewhere. Well, I guess this is it.

(Disclaimer: some family members may find the following a bit too personal. Personally, I found it hilarious and not such a big deal, but I also find that to be the same about my lack of understanding of what constitutes inappropriate dinner conversation, and I've made more than one of you squirm with that...)

This is in keeping with previous efforts to capture and record some of my dream imagery. I don't even remember when the hell I wrote this... Here we go. What I found on a purple sticky note, word for word:

Dream - in house - group house - more like a hotel-type situation but in a house. Old Marine (now security?) says to me, "I love you." And I ask, "What? Why?" He explains that they're moving my stuff out of my room temporarily and one of the little kids of the people helping with the move found my vibrator under the bed and the kid thinks it's the best toy ever. I turn the corner to see the kid switching it on and off and squealing with delight. Hilarity and embarrassment ensue.

waking

Yesterday I woke from a dream in which I wrote and publicly declared my vows. Today I awoke from a dream of betrayal, gripped with fear and with the ache of a broken heart. I admit I'm rather curious about tomorrow.

you're lucky

I dreamed I met my rapist. We stood together in a dimly lit room. I took his face in my hand, squeezed his jaw, and said, "you're lucky."

"Why am I lucky?" he asked me.

"You're lucky I didn't kill you."

I woke up to a series of muscle spasms releasing tension in my pelvic floor.