Posts Tagged ‘scotland’

Finished cleaning by one. Had lunch with Stinkerbelle, and came home by 2:30. By three, I was laying down for a much needed, long overdue nap. I think I should have stayed awake.

This morning’s Fairy Oracle? Follow your dreams…

No doubt this dream was time travel, which made me think of the Crow and its ability to see past, present, and future – simultaneously.

Scotland, I think. T was there, but beard was longer and thicker, arms were bigger, chest was broader, and he looked much less Sage and much more Rage. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was more Viking than anything in this dream. In the dream, I was his and I followed him as we traveled. With us, his son and two of my three, Rhythm and Stinkerbelle. Accents were thick, but we didn’t have them, so it was clear we didn’t live in Scotland, but were transplants, or simply visiting. T was playing a game in a castle with a Royal figure while the rest of us waited. T came out of a room in a hurry, snatching up his things and insisting we do the same. We all went trotting behind him. We had access to a car, so it couldn’t have been distant past – or the time travel happened sporadically so that I didn’t realize we were going past to future back to past again. At any rate, we landed in a bar somewhere. This is where T told me that he was no good for me… that it had nothing to do with me, but that he had to go his own way. I was furious. I yelled at him for dragging me to the middle of nowhere and ditching me in a place I didn’t recognize, with people I didn’t know. He said I’d find my way, then disappeared.

His son offered to give me a ride back to the castle because that’s where I’d left the majority of my things. I snatched up what I could, but apparently I left behind some valuables – or at least that’s what I was told as I was being driven back.

Back at the castle, T’s son also pulled a disappearing act, saying he thought we could hang together for a while and he’d felt obligated to look after us … but, like his dad, realized it’d be in all of our best interest if he, too, disappeared. With that, he dumped us on the castle doorstep and was gone.

We entered the castle to find an old king. He had a long beard, looked almost like Dumbledore from Harry Potter. He said, “Finally, you’ve been returned to me.” He licked his lips in an obscene way and said, “I’ve been waiting for my prize!”

Suddenly it became clear that T had gambled me… and lost. I’d be no-one’s prize! Nor would my kids see me belong to anyone in such a way, so we used the power of three, did some serious ass-kickin, and freed ourselves from the castle.

Back in more modern times it seemed, we were walking at night, lost, heading towards a highway. We had to walk up cement steps and I asked Rhythm, “You think we can walk on the 1031? Some highways you can’t walk on. It might not be safe.”

Suddenly, a voice from beneath the bridge calls out to me with a Jamaican accent. “Scuse me, Angel.” When I didn’t respond the first time, as it seemed Angel was a direct name (and not mine), he called out again, “Hey, Angel!”

Stinkerbelle called it, “Hey, Mom… I think that guy is talking to you.”

I looked over my shoulder toward the man, who was sitting cross legged with bare feet and an orange hat. “Yes, you, Angel!” Said the man.

“My name isn’t angel, Sir. I think you have me confused for somebody else.”

“Aye, Angel – a rose by any other name would smell as sweet – but Angel is not the name, it’s what you are!”

“I assure you, Sir. I am no angel.

“But you are… even if you cannot see your own wings.”

“Well, Sir, these so-called wings of mine are not going to fly us home apparently, so we’d better be on our way.” I answered.

“Might I suggest, Angel, that if you’re choosing feet over wings, that you do not walk the 1031. There are many dangers there. You’d be best to follow that road over there, then.”

There was no other road! If there’d been another road, I’d have considered it! “With all due respect, Kind Sir, there is no other road, and I didn’t say the 1031, I said the 231. You must be confused.”

“Me? Confused? Nah… Listen here: Isn’t it you, Angel, with all due respect, who says there is always a way… more than one way… and that it’s just a matter of finding it?”

I was stunned and frightened all at once, “Who are you?”

“More importantly, Angel, who are you?”

With that, the man vanished… and a road appeared in the exact spot he’d been sitting. It was marked with the numbers 231, and when I looked back up at the sign on the bridge, it now said “1031”. The numbers had changed!

The kids and I began walking the 231 road when a messenger arrived with the news of three attempted (yet not successful) suicides. I knew the three.  I looked at Stinkerbelle, she looked at me, and I said, “I don’t get it… how do I have such a nack for knowing, and why am I choosing them?”

Rhythm answered, “Those aren’t the right questions to be asking for the answer you seek. More importantly, what are you supposed to be doing for them or learning from them since you are choosing them?”

With that, I woke up…

5:15 p.m. —

Lost me in a bet, eh? *smirk*

Dreams like this one perplex me. I have my theories as to what parts of it might be expressing.

In spite of that, the nap was wonderful…

and Life is good!


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