Tuesday, 31 August 2010

Ancient divination cards and sand dune mountains (Dream log)

I dream vividly every night. Most nights, I can remember parts of several dreams, often all of more than one. But even amongst the vivid dreams, there are dreams that stand out, that are like being completely in another reality. Last night was one.

I was sitting outside, Indian style, looking out at a dark, surreal landscape. Trees were silhouetted against an eerie blue-green glow in the distance as I looked down at the cards in my hand, which looked like Tarot, but weren't quite. The artwork almost lived. That they were very old, I knew - and I also knew that though I had never used them before, I *knew* them. Knew them as if they were a part of me.

And I knew without a doubt that they were more than just cards as they slipped sensuously through my fingers - that as beautiful as they were, there was a dark side to them.

I heard a voice say, "Every mage across time has owned a set of these. If you have found them again, then you were a wizard, a sorceress, a witch, a priest or priestess - someone who worked with magic, and worked with it deeply."

Suddenly, I was flying over the most beautiful landscape, part the dark lush landscape, but increasingly one of deep blue sky and sand dune mountains. I knew I was flying over inland South Africa, and as I passed over a dune mountain that seemed as high as Everest, I noticed that some of my people were trapped on the narrow summit of one of them - a summit that was like a razor's edge, with barely enough room to hold one's balance.

I landed in the valley with others to make a plan, and suddenly Saffa Greg was there, trying to tell me something essential to the rescue effort but I couldn't hear him over the wind. He repeated it several times and I finally caught it, though I can't remember what he said now. Using that information, we managed to bring the others down - though that part of the dream was sketchy.

Then, as suddenly as it began, the dream ended with me in a library, looking at the cards in my hand and the same voice saying, "The challenge and the difficulty is to use them - without controlling what happens through them. Very few have managed it."

Then my eyes opened to a familiar magnolia ceiling, sunlight and the rush of wings flapping outside the window as I was jolted back into my body. And I wondered.

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