August 21, 2013: Full Blue Moon
Stinger and I are in the process of securing a very desirable property on a tree-lined street in, I realize with surprised trepidation, the heart of Washington D.C. As we enter a building with our agent, we are both pleased with our success but also determined he understand we still want to live in the country; there’s no way we’re moving full time to the city. Stinger is wearing a dark suit and as I follow him to the front desk, I look around me, feeling very present in what now feels like a hotel. When I make some comment he barely glances at me as he says coldly—Did I say something to you? He’s busy filling out a form and does not want me there. I smile and—once more looking around me at the sunlit hallway, standing where it divides in a right angle into two short corridors leading to glass door exits—I reply—Okay… and you know what, I’m going out flying, because this is a dream. My attitude is knock yourself out, I have something better to do. I start toward one of the exits and am somewhat amazed, as well as very pleased, when after an instant’s hesitation, he follows me!
The double doors open onto a rural landscape and an open field that looks as though it was recently covered with wildflowers but has since been hayed and is now brownish gold. I say—This is perfect! I break into a run, Superman it up into the sky, and Stinger follows me up! We’re flying through the sky together! It’s wonderful, and a little funny too because he’s wearing a business suit, which looks brown now. There is a flock of large white and golden-brown geese on the ground below us, and some of them take wing now to fly up around us. They are very intent on us, and one of them flies right up to Stinger and latches onto the back of his neck with its beak, pulling his flesh out slightly while applying a firm pressure. I worry it might be hurting him but I don’t interfere, sensing this might be a very good thing; the goose might be healing or energizing him. I recognize the area of the body the ancient Egyptians believed was where the soul enters the body. I’m very curious, watching to see how Stinger will react, but he merely accepts it. The goose finally releases him, but now Stinger is holding it in his arms. I say—Okay, let go of it and let’s keep flying. We’re thousands of feet above the ground, the earth is a flat map of marshy land, vivid greens and narrower strips of blue, very much like a river delta. Stinger releases the goose, and we watch it plummet like a rock straight down toward the ground. I worry the poor thing won’t be able to get it’s wings working before it makes impact, and it looks like it’s going to miss landing in water. We watch it falling and when it’s far, far below is, we at last see it spread its wings and begin placidly flying again, which is nice. As we soar together through the blue sky, I turn in the air and, looking back at Stinger, ask him—What color was that goose? He replies—Red. I say—Really? To me it was yellow. I’m trying to determine if we see things the same in this dream. But in waking reality, we often don’t see the exact same color, so it doesn’t seem to prove much. We’re suddenly just a few yards above the ground, and there are a lot of animals down there (it feels like Africa) congregating around a tree. Stinger isn’t wearing a suit anymore; he’s dressed in field clothes and a hat, the kind he might have worn when he lived in Africa. He touches ground and says something to the effect of—Go away, to which I reply happily—Okay! and take off on my own.
I lose all visuals but instead of darkness I’m immersed in a bright heavenly blue color. It’s very strange because there is an oval or egg shaped opening directly before me I can see through to a space beyond the blue but that is still part of it, but there’s still not really anything to look at except a slightly darker blue but which is very faint and pix-elated, like a dry brush stroke, or a very, very far away cloud. I’m still lucid, fully rooted in the dream, which feels very stable as I wonder how I can get through this blue. Void space is usually black or filled with stars. After a short while, a scene literally forms out of the blue as below me I see two very real looking brick fences or walls parallel to each other, the outer one slightly taller, which seem to front a long structure. I’m able to quickly fly between them and through am opening in the innermost one. I land in a very pleasant and very long open air courtyard area of sorts. I remember seeing but can’t identify elegant black wrought iron details. The clear sunny atmosphere is part of this location’s elegant wealth. Yet even as I turn right and begin walking, I’m suddenly inside and the atmosphere is dark and shadowy, the muted illumination hinting at a time before electricity. Some of the tables to my right are occupied by dark figures, but I’m primarily aware of myself. I’m very tall and very slender, and I’m conscious of being in a constant state of sexual arousal, which I have well under control but which is definitely there, and stoked by the sense of eyes on me as I walk, displaying myself and my availability. I’m wearing a long dark-red dress with a subtle gleam to the material held up by thin straps, the bodice and ankle-length skirt meeting tightly at my waist contributing to my contained excitement.
I come to the end of the broad isle where it is much darker and suddenly see a large mirror hanging on the stone wall. I walk right up to it curiously, and am astonished to see that I don’t look remotely like myself in this life. The tall thin body and face are most decidedly not my own. I study my reflection closely. It is that of an older woman with small, almost pinched features framed with branching wrinkles. I’m somewhat dismayed to observe that not only am I not very attractive, I’m seriously getting up in years. Who I see reflected before me is someone completely unknown to me. I step even closer to the mirror to study this woman, wondering what incarnation she hails from, what past or parallel life. The curious thing is, I distinctly sense that her looks don’t affect her contentment, her quiet, if somewhat resigned, pride in herself and what she has to offer. I understand that in this place there are still people who will take pleasure in her, who will use her, satisfying her own needs in the process, and that this is enough for her. I get the sense of an ancient location where she is akin to an offering made to a temple; she has no other life and does not desire one. She is glad to be in service here. Obeying some unknown impulse, I open my mouth wide, so wide that my jaw dislocates like a snake’s, and in the black cavernous opening I perceive a substance akin to quicksilver that also possesses the muted glowing softness of a pearl, its dark-green depths lightening on the surface to jade. And from this liquid mist (for lack of a better way to describe it) another egg-shaped face emerges or is born, as though rising from the black depths of my throat. I’m slightly amused by the ghoulish scene, but primarily I’m intrigued by the appearance of what I take to be another incarnation, just one of innumerable others. Staring at what feels like a very ancient egg-like embryo of another me, who once was or still is somewhere, I phase out of the dream.
In Ancient Egypt the goose could symbolize the soul, and the “eggs of the Goose” were pharaoh’s children. The goose here seems to represent our Inner Self, and its eggs our individual lives.
My Dream Partner, James commented:
“You rising above the earth with Stinger could represent your physical deaths. A Goose representing Stinger’s Inner Self latches onto the back of his neck, a place indicative of the connection point between body and soul. There is a potential mirror image here. Correct me if I’m wrong, but in Physical Matter Reality (PMR), the soul’s entry point into flesh is behind the neck. Perhaps the reciprocal is true: in Non Physical Matter Reality (NPMR) that area behind the neck might represent a connection point to the physical body? The goose extracts the dead physical aspect of Stinger’s body and falls to the earth, apparently dead and/or in danger of death. Just before hitting the earth, it flies again, symbolic of re-birth or reincarnation into his next life. Then there is the aspect of Stinger telling you to just go on without him. To me, this element of the dream summarizes the possibility that when you each face your respective physical deaths in this incarnation, Stinger will have another run through PMR, whereas you won’t fall back to earth, and will be given the challenge of acclimating to NPMR.
If indeed any of my interpretation is correct, it surely is not some imminent prediction of death. I suspect, and hope, your physical deaths are a long way off. Your projection into that past life you saw in the mirror seemed to be from a time very long ago. And I think this potential projection of the future is far off as well. Why dream about this now? Maybe you sense that exploring on the Other Side, as we are doing, is one mandatory step toward “graduating” to that plane?”
Stinger was holding the Goose in his arms like a baby.. When you look at a river delta from space, it resembles an artery and veins, the physical body… And the Inner Self sends a piece of itself back “down” to earth…
UPDATE – Added September 24, 2013:
Stinger and I went to the emergency room yesterday because his breathing was not getting any better after 3 days of his bronchitis medication. We knew we had reason to worry because 12 years ago, shortly before we met, his right lung collapsed as a result of a lingering cough that irritated the pollop on his lung and caused it “burst” and deflate his lung. His right lung had, in fact, collapsed. If not caught within a matter of days, it cannot be re-inflated. Last time, he had to spend a week in the hospital, but technology has improved such that they were able to re-inflate it and leave a temporary tube in his chest that lets air out but not in. He’s home now and in no pain at all. After the scary part was all over and we were waiting to be released, he checked his emails and discovered that the magazine Wildlife Professional had published the interview they did with him.
In the dream the goose latched onto the back of his neck, then he held it in his arms, then we watched it fall, down, down, down, and there was concern it would crash to earth and never fly/rise again. This is what happened to his lung, it fell/collapsed and there was the threat it would be too late to re-inflate it, and the doctor indicated there were other factors that could have made the event fatal, but we caught the issue in time, just as the goose stopped falling and began flying again. Then in my dream Stinger landed on the ground where I literally saw him surrounded by wildlife dressed in field clothes, which belong to his work, his profession. At the beginning of the dream he was filling out form at a front desk, which in reality turned out to be a hospital, not a hotel. And I was so happy when instead of remaining there he came out flying with me. In reality, we were thrilled he did not need to spend a week in the hospital but that instead we could leave that very day.
Before we knew whether or not the procedure would work, I suffered a real stab of fear remembering this dream, but what kept me calm was knowing the goose did not fall to its death but spread its wings to keep flying.
I told Stinger about the dream, confessing I hadn’t mentioned it before because I didn’t want to worry him or myself. It was so metaphorical and yet so obvious, I slipped it under the subconscious rug, not wanting to think about it.
UPDATE Added October 9, 2013
Stinger’s lung collapsed again and he underwent the surgical treatment for his condition to prevent this from happening again. On his last day in the hospital, in search of some ice tea for him, I ended up in a part of the complex I had never been in before, on a second floor walking along a window looking down at a long brick patio with black wrought iron tables, and a brick wall with an arched opening leading into it. I wondered why it looked so familiar, and then suddenly realized I was seeing the location from my dream, just as it had appeared to me in the dream, sunny and deserted:
“After a short while, a scene literally forms out of the blue as below me I see two very real looking brick fences or walls parallel to each other, the outer one slightly taller, which seem to front a long structure. I’m able to quickly fly between them and through an opening in the innermost one. I land in a very pleasant and very long open air courtyard area of sorts. I remember seeing but can’t identify elegant black wrought iron details. The clear sunny atmosphere is part of this location’s elegant wealth…”
I was definitely in a heightened state during this ordeal, which hadn’t happened yet, but which mysteriously got broadcast loud and clear to my consciousness exactly two months before it all began happening. My Inner Self sent me a dream postcard metaphorically summarizing the experience that added a life-affirming magic to it.