Continually, I’m having a problem staying asleep. In one way, this is nice – I tend to remember more of my dreams. But in all other ways, it’s frustrating. It leaves me tired and kind of disconnected for a good portion of my waking hours, and I get my dreams confused.
Last night, I had at least four dreams, all separate. But I can only remember the last two, and that’s likely only because they were derivations of each other.
The first dream was one I’ve had before. Some disaster befell me, and I didn’t have anything left in the world. No home, no clothes, no money, nothing. A kind man thereafter took pity on me and allowed me to stay in his HUGE home, in exchange for looking after his kids. (This time, the man was played by Gabriel Byrne, but I’m not sure if he was last time.) Half the kids were adopted (one a brainy little Chinese girl this time, who painted me a picture that said she loved me and was happy I’d come to live with them, so she had someone like her around to talk to – meaning that the other kids picked on her for being smart and shy), and the other half were his own. His wife had died some years back, and when he opened a closet to let me pick from a variety of clothes too small (my clothes from when I was in elementary/middle school, which was just weird…I wouldn’t think I paid enough attention to remember, even subconsciously!) he sent me down to the basement to pick something of hers. They were inside this big, ornate, GORGEOUS dark-wood armoire (some of them things my mother has worn in years gone by), but I felt most of it was too flashy and formal for me. In the end, I picked a simple, dark blue silk dress (that very much resembled one of my mom’s). Half the kids were very upset about me wearing their mother’s clothes, and the other half (we’re talking like four and four, five and three, something around there) were excited to have a surrogate-mother figure around. I knew in the dream I’d dreamt it all before, and knew if it played out further, I’d end up falling in love and marrying the guy…which I really would have liked to dream out, but I woke up instead. 😛
The last dream function around the same sort of parameters as the first one. Only I now had like four sisters and three brothers (which is kind of creepy – there were 8 in both dreams, and 8 is my number…both my favorite, and my life number), and we’d been separated way back when. (This dream interweaves with my upcoming story, the Montgomery Girls, so should be taken as a creative thing, rather than something more literal.) I was in my late teens/early twenties, and the second oldest of all of us. The only one older had been sent off to be a governess to a rich family across the sea. She was snerty, arrogant, and the typical first-born, in that she thought she knew best and we all should do what she said. She wrote to us and said she was getting married, so we all took the opportunity to leave whatever crappy spit of life we’d been leading to dabble in the richer lands of hers. We were transported on this crappy little ship – really more of a big fishing boat with a hold – which leaked. A storm tossed us all around, half froze us, and threatened to dump us into the drink. But we eventually made it. The rich widower my sister had been working for (again played by Gabriel Byrne) not only had gobs of verdant land (that looked VERY English), but his own little dock, too. Snooty as my sister was, she refused to tell us who she was marrying – I can only assume because she wanted us to think it was her employer – even after we got there. Instead, she made us practice singing and dancing and acting, so we could perform at the wedding and show everyone how talented her family was. Only when I tried to get everyone to do what she wanted, she collapsed with all the others and refused to move. Instead, she tried to preen the youngest of our sisters, but the little one didn’t really remember her, which gave me a vindictive sort of pleasure. The oldest of the boys then said he refused to get up in front of anyone until the Lady granted his wish and started growing his hair back (apparently, he was going bald at about 17). My sister said something very pious about how she was sure it would happen before the wedding, to which I snorted and asked – as quietly as possible – if she really, honestly thought the Lady would grow his hair back. I didn’t think the goddess worked like that, but my sister did. She was so upset by my blasphemous words, that she got up and stormed out. That’s when I realized she’d joined the Sisters of…something…who worshipped the goddess known as the Lady through quiet prayer, reflection, and thoughtless deeds for others (and who knows how much of her employer’s money she’d thrown away on lost causes). She thought she was better than the rest of our family, not because she had gainful employment and was getting married, but because SHE was a HOLY sister. Bah! That made me even more angry, because THAT was not the way the Lady should be worshipped. In fact, ever since I’d been a little girl, I’d been a true follower of the Lady, and was now a priestess in my own right. But the true worshippers of the Lady were secret, and worked good things through magic, behind closed door and under the full moon. I had, in fact, earlier in the dream, gone out and danced half-naked in the moonlight, beside the shush of the waves on the shore, to bring good fortune to the widower and his lands, including my sister’s wedding. I woke up irked at a sister I don’t have, and once again, knowing I was going to end up with the rich widower. >D
My Journey to Whole-Being 