Dream log: where I'm under a thresher, then in the next dream, forgive my father

Flora - our awesome cook for Wednesday lunches at work - was driving like a bat out of hell on Randolph Rd East near its intersection with New Hampshire - 2 minutes from the house in which I grew up. White-knuckled, grabbing the dashboard, I said, 'Flora. I know this road. It's narrow, it winds, and you can't take the turns THAT FAST.'

She, of course, ignored me. 

Fortunately, she stopped off on the side of the road before I had a heart attack. The area near us was a vast field, and the sky was that unearthly, pearlescent yellow that harbingers a storm, with black clouds not far off. Coming towards us was a giant, post-apocalyptic looking machine, which turned out to be a thresher - we were too late to move fully out of the way. A friend (unknown IRL) said, 'The sides! Bend over double and go down the inside of the wheel! Following his instructions, I tucked myself tight to the left hand set of wheels (to my right, since we were going in the opposite direction) and turned to see a man underneath the machine who seemed to be guiding it in some way, walking so close to me we could have brushed shoulders - yet he seemed unaware of me.

Even bent over double, I felt a flat rectangular piece of machinery press into my back over and over, the pressure not quite unbearable, but so intense that I woke up feeling it press into my back one more time before I was fully in this reality...

...I cracked open an eye and blearily checked the clock. 5am. Argh. Tossing and turning finally led to falling into an uneasy doze, where I was suddenly with someone else and we were pinning things to the sides of of a peach posterboard cone. Both our fathers, with whom we'd had tremendously difficult relationships, had died, and we were pinning things up and stating reasons for why they might have been the way they were. The emotional tenor was intense, and it was almost as if their spirits were there.

Suddenly, she pinned up small star-shaped flowers that were glowing, translucent white, with yellow centres that were becoming an otherworldly gold, as she said to me: "He didn't do so well in this physical reality, but his soul loves you." I choked and sobbed, and woke up feeling that intensity of grief, understanding, and finally forgiveness.

The clarity, the spaciousness has stayed with me all day.

Oh, and I didn't know what the flowers were, so I looked them up - Star of Bethlehem. Symbolic in the obvious way, but also eerily appropriate in several others...

...dreams are powerful medicine.

Dream log: Dragonflight

This afternoon, I went into hiding in my bedroom to read and reflect, but found myself passing out within 10 minutes (fortunately, I always set my alarm for 2 hours after I come upstairs for just that reason).

I am, as anyone who has read this blog is aware, a prolific and vivid dreamer. When I nap, I drop straight into very vivid dreams within seconds. This afternoon, they started with the mundane heading for the ridiculous until suddenly, I was dropping through the clouds. As I passed a white tower with an antenna, I thought, 'Oh, I'm dropping into Jo'burg! Okay.' 

As I fell, I realised I was performing somewhere as part of a group - whether that was a conference, a speech, stand up comedy, who knows. As soon as my feet hit the ground in Jo'burg, I was off again, landing somewhere along the southern coast - on a stunning white sand beach with the ocean to my left, grassy dunes to my right, mountains in the distance and a small crowd behind me. As I began to run, I heard a friend's surprised voice behind me: 'What are YOU doing here?'

Without turning, I answered that I was there to perform with [group's name].

He responded, surprise and new respect colouring his voice, 'I didn't know you were one of them!'

'Yes, I am.' Grinning, so he'd hear the smile and the warmth/intended cheek, I continued, 'There's a lot you don't know. I'll see you tomorrow,' as I took off. It was bright daylight, but the sun had passed its zenith and was beginning to drop in the west. 

At twilight, I found myself on a mountain, looking down at a breathtaking city cradled by mountains on one side and open to the ocean on the other, watching the lights come on, mesmerised - fully understanding Cape Town's reputation as one of the most beautiful places in the world. With glee and fierce exultation, because I could, I ran off that mountain and jumped, knowing I would fly. I soared above the city, revelling in the beauty below me, exquisitely aware of how I was working every air current - but I felt like me; I didn't know what I was.  I went through various birds, but none felt right - my wings felt too large or the wrong shape. 

I flew out over the water, hoping to catch my reflection. It wasn't till I flew back inland and over a large puddle (not quite a lake!) that I realised I was a dragon. Idly (and vainly, I suppose), I wondered what colour I was, and the answer came: 'You are the colour of sunset flame.' Of course. I flew at twilight; what other colour was there? 

Finally, I reluctantly descended,  landing near a cave where I would spend the night before going down into the city as a human for various appointments and the performance. Cosy and dry, it was crowded with dragons doing the same - essentially a dragon hostel. I asked one of autumn gold to move over so I could have a bit of room; he did so with alacrity and I curled up to sleep. 

Then I woke up here, feeling my dragon shape melting off me. 

(Shortly thereafter watching two shows with unexpected dragon references...) 

I'll take another one of those, please... 

An eldritch night

It wasn't even a Luther or a Hannibal night; my most exciting watching, to my everlasting, now public, shame, was Gypsy Sisters. Nor am I reading anything that would have forewarned me of a difficult night. 

On coming to the end of Part 1 of William Boyd's Waiting for Sunrise halfway through the midnight hour, I decided it was time for bed, having dozed through the last few pages. Sleep should have come almost immediately...

...when suddenly, the night changed. I heard the sound of something or someone scrabbling on the roof above the bathroom; the sound of something or someone on the porch roof below me. Someone's key was rattling in the door, though everyone was home. Outside, loud voices, a sense of something in the air. The night felt ominous, danger everywhere.

Suddenly, as I lay in my usual falling asleep position on my left side, I felt a hand - and at one point saw a shadow one - trying to grab my right upper arm and pull me over, which then became a whole community of hands from my upper arms to my legs trying to roll me over and off the bed. I may have spoken and said 'Stop,' but it didn't. As I struggled, I sensed a thunderstorm breaking; lightning seemed to flash through my room and I heard an echo of thunder.

The owners of the disembodied hands spoke; claiming to be specific friends, saying that I should just let go. The voices wove themselves into a dream where I told them they couldn't fool me; I know my friends' touches and my parents' (!) touch. Suddenly, the dream shifted, retaining the eldritch urgency of the night: 

I was on a steep hill with three friends, all male: they were all sons of judges, mayors, etc., trying to help me: I was being chased for witchcraft. To be fair, I WAS a witch; I both Saw and used Magick; I think it was something I had Seen and spoken of that got me into trouble. The boys were further down the hill and slid into the surrounding bay. I dove from halfway up the hill, ending up near them. Though I was running to preserve my life, though the situation was urgent - I wasn't afraid; I was almost...exhilarated. My main concern was protecting the boys - who were members of the coven alongside me - and making sure they could remain members of the establishment, because their NOT doing so at this juncture meant a greater catastrophe than the one I'd spoken of to the community; the one that had led to this chase.

I saw the dream in double vision - one version where it just happened; the other version lucid, where I thought, 'Past life.' In THAT version, I turned as soon as I hit the water to see that one of the men was a real-life close friend, treading water, trapped into the holding position and prevented from swimming by his wet cotta. Our eyes held the other's, layered by the telepathic sending possible in the dream: his was full of...guilt for not doing more to help me and fear/loss as he thought, 'Oh my G-d, you're going away,' knowing he couldn't leave - not just yet anyway. 


My gaze, my Sending, was reassuring, understanding, as I thought at him, 'It's okay. We'll find each other - this time [life] or the next. You know where I'm going,' as I submerged, pulled out of the cotta and swam, like a mermaid, through the underwater cave under the hill that only he knew about; leaving my cotta behind as evidence for the pursuers to think - and the 3 men to 'confirm' - that I'd drowned.

I started into wakefulness, heart pounding, gasping for air and safety, disoriented, into a far darker (it had only been 45 minutes) and utterly - almost preternaturally - calm night; into the deep stillness that only appears once a storm has passed.


I twitched my curtain and looked out to see that the ground was bone dry.

I picked up my phone and emailed one of my closest friends with everything I could remember of the dream until then. Less than a minute after I hit send, my gchat icon popped up with "Shit, are you okay?" I wasn't, but 20 lines later, I was soothed enough to successfully drift off into a night with no further incident.

I woke to a normal world, though eldritch echoes remain: far too many birds flapping behind our office, with one, unusually, playing with the lock on the shed. Normally, all one hears is the occasional stone dropping from above, but today, it's like a roost back there. I can't help but wonder if they are ravens.

Then my officemate noted, several hours later, that today felt 'unnaturally quiet'.

Clearly, eldritch is not quite ready to evaporate just yet. Watch this space.

Dream log - falcon and flounder

Recently, I've been sleeping more deeply than usual. I can feel it on dropping and awakening: the drop and the ascent feel far deeper than usual. In part, I think, this is because it is now darker longer, and I can sleep more deeply in the mornings. But also, with a regular spiritual practice in place and ACIM exercises, something is shifting more deeply. 

I always dream vividly, but last night was another order of vivid - it was like travelling.

In the first dream, I was living in a huge flat - I have no idea where it was, but it was sprawling, with different sections and high ceilings. One night, I was home with a friend when we heard someone in another section. I dragged him over saying, 'We need to find out who it is and what is going on.' He reluctantly followed me across the HUGE paved outside area (patio? garden?) to the section where the kitchen and the dining room were, and we intercepted a scruffy man trying to steal two chairs from my dining room. Interestingly, they were the crap chairs my parents had at the breakfast table before my brother was born, with tacky black cushion seats.  We took them back (WHY????????) and turned him over to the police. There's a part of me that wishes we'd let him have them, but that's neither here nor there.

Then suddenly, I was in another house with flourescent lighting, with my parents(!), pacing back and forth in floods of tears, inconsolable, in a formal dress, moving my looped cross back and forth on its chain as if daring it to break. A close friend had died, and my parents kept trying to tell me it was fine, even as I sobbed that it wasn't, 'She's dead. She's DEAD, ok? I'm NEVER GOING TO SEE HER AGAIN!'

Something whispered and I moved from the centre of the house to the one floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall window that I could see, waiting.

My breath caught. We were high up in the mountains, clouds scudding by like light traffic on a motorway. It was almost as if the house was built into the rock, as I could see a natural rock ledge outside the window. The sky was the colour of a dying campfire, deep yellow, red and orange as the sun set. Suddenly, a movement on the ledge caught my attention: birds were gathering in a hushed flock, looking through the window at me - cardinals, sparrows, raptors, all sorts. Suddenly, when the ledge was almost full, they went preternaturally still, looking out towards the blazing sky expectantly. My eyes followed theirs and I saw a large shape on a nearby mountain peak. "Gyrfalcon," I thought. "Gyrfalcon."

"Irim," I felt it say as it spread its wings and soared towards us, gracefully landing in the one empty space on the ledge, at which point all the birds turned back towards me. 

It was...stunning. Its was huge, the size of a large cat or small dog, I guessed - patterned in brown and black, with an odd peacock-like plume arching tailward from the middle of its back, but  I was caught by was its mesmerizing eyes - black centre ringed with gold. We stared at each other, its gaze full of utter love and compassion for me, trying to hold my grief in its heart and wingspan. "It's going to be ok." He took a step forward, continuing to gaze at me, trying to wrap me in his love and reassurance, as he tried to send me a message - not in words, but in that deep telepathic rapport that one could only wish was an option for communication. As my grief eased, I woke. 

This morning, I had to look it up. 'Gyrfalcon' first, assuming that this glorious bird was, in fact, a gyrfalcon. Shape-wise, perhaps, but the eyes were those of a hawk. They had to be gold-ringed. None of the interpretations of a falcon in one's dreams fit at all, and it wasn't till I found that in falconry, only a king could use a gyrfalcon, that I thought: 

"Royalty. Kingship. G-d. Oh MY G-d. Horus." Goosebumps - I'd always thought of Horus as a hawk, but when I looked him up, I discovered that he's a falcon god. THAT was right.

 And then I realized - as any one of my friends reading this probably already has - I wasn't wearing a 'looped cross'. I was wearing an ankh.

But was Horus just Horus? What did he mean? G-d of Light? Was he an analogue of Jesus? Could he have been the friend that I associate with Horus in certain expressions/postures?

Will be turning that over for a while.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The flounder dream was as vivid, but considerably less exciting - I had this large goldfish bowl overcrowded with white/albino flounder which I could never leave because they kept jumping out and nearly dying of suffocation. I finally gave up on them and put them down somewhere and tried to leave them alone, but when I walked back to my place at the coffee table, there was one who had jumped out (on purpose, I swear). I nearly left him, but couldn't, and scooped him up, carried him over and dropped him in the fishbowl with a resigned sigh.

I was trying to work out a viable solution when I woke up. 

Pass, except for my tendency to pick up the wounded like a black suit picks up white cat hairs. 

Over to you, folks.

Dream Log - Church

Restless, disturbing dreams - and powerful ones. I remember snippets of many, but only a few whole ones, which run along the same theme.


1.  I was at church, which now had a 'second half' to it. Not where the real-life construction is happening, but with the church and the presbytery to the right as you're facing it, and a new glass building to the left. I worked in the glass building, which was some kind of government organisation or agency, and was going in and out quite a lot with a woman I don't know in real life, but who was either my equivalent in another department or perhaps slightly above me, but not my direct supervisor. We were animatedly discussing an important problem coming down the steps and out the front door one day when I stopped in the forecourt. Something was wrong - I'd sensed it for a while, but now it felt critical, dangerous. I 'felt' the area around me and knew there was an explosive in the presbytery tied to the electrical wiring; anything one did to defuse it would only set it off. I had no sense of when it would go off, though I sensed 'near future', not immediate. 


Right. Time to let people know.


I spotted J out front, spreading salt on the pavement outside the gate. I had mixed feelings about approaching him: if he believed me, he'd move quickly; but since it was me, I worried that he would simply dismiss me and do nothing.  As I stepped out, I noticed he had spread salt across the gate entrance itself and was now spreading it in lines perpendicular to the original one across the gate. I stepped out of the forecourt, careful not to disturb his lines, and stood facing him.


'J, what are you doing?'


'Need to create a way to contain the explosion.' 


Suffice it to say, one of the things J is known for is his precise, clear English. His leaving out the subject nearly gave me whiplash. I looked at him sharply.


'J, wait, you KNOW about the explosion?' 


In the same, slow, deliberate manner, continuing to spread salt, 'Yes. Don't know when though.'


He appeared to be sleepwalking or in a fugue. I desperately tried to break through.


'J, listen. Spreading salt isn't going to help. We need to get everyone out and we need to find a way to contain it. We're going to have to work out what kind of explosion it's going to be and build something, create something to minimise the damage and casualties to surrounding areas. It's too late for here. Can you hear me?'


No response. 'J, WAKE UP. We need to get moving.' I was on the verge of shaking him.


Unfortunately, that's the moment I listened to my own directive and opened my eyes.


2.  It was pitch dark, and I was flying. I was held from behind by what felt like a...presence more than a man, though he felt solid enough. I'm pretty sure we were on a Pegasus or some other flying creature. From behind me, his voice, raspy as if his vocal cords had been damaged in a fire, said, 'I have to fight for my love. My brothers wouldn't come.' I felt his profound sadness and leaned back slightly, trying to comfort him saying, 'I'm sure they'll change their minds and come.'


He remained silent, but I sensed his disagreement and his sorrow mixed with love - for his brothers and for me. Below me, the ground was suddenly lit up by a series of stadiums, and somehow I knew they were for gladiatorial contests - ones in which he was going to participate. My heart ached for the blood he would have to spill in the fight for his love. I hoped his love knew how blessed she was. 


Then we descended onto what looked like a college/university quadrangle. There were some security lights on, and some windows were lit as well, but we stood in total darkness. As he put me down, I turned to him, this shadow twice my height, and he said, 


'Now go. And:

Bereshit bara Elohim et hashamayim ve'et ha'arets.

Veha'arets hayetah tohu vavohu vechoshech al-peney tehom veruach Elohim merachefet al-peney hamayim.

G-d will come. Remember.'


After that, he spoke in something akin to Hebrew - I don't know how I knew it wasn't Hebrew; all I can say is that it was a profound blessing - not one of the 'given' ones, e.g., 'May the Lord bless you and keep you', but something...deeper, almost as if it was woven out of the fabric of creation itself. I felt it around me like a blanket of benison and protection.


I went...


...and found myself sitting with Steve, my cousin's husband, who I haven't seen in ages. We were sitting at a computer, working something through, when some sixth sense made me turn around. 


I saw, sitting on a brick wall, swinging his legs, in khaki trousers, tackies and a t-shirt, a clerical friend. 'Surely not HERE,' I thought, peering closely at the familiar profile. Then his head turned, and sure enough, it was he. He nodded and raised his eyebrows - in surprise, curiosity and greeting, which I returned similarly. I decided to allow him to come over if he wanted to - after all, even good clerical friends need complete breaks from those back in their church circle.


Steve asked me a question, I turned back to the screen for 30 seconds, then turned around again - he had disappeared completely, not even to be seen walking away in the surrounding crowd.


Steve asked, 'What's wrong?'


'Nothing. Thought I saw a friend from back home.'


'Well, go find him and say 'hi'!'


'No, if he'd wanted to talk, he'd have come over. I'm not going to bother him while he's on holiday.'


Then there was a weird, half-remembered segue about going into kitchens with Steve and friends, then I said, 'I'm going to mass; I'll see you guys later.'


We parted ways and I chose the cathedral, best to keep out of my friend's way, I figured. The cathedral looked like an opera house: brightly lit, white, blue plush theatre seats, in the semi-round, rather baroque and very beautiful. Suddenly, I turned to see clerical friend coming up the aisle two away from me (NOT central) to get ready to say mass and moved to an alcove where I was at a distance and hidden from view from the sanctuary. 'At least then he doesn't have to see me till at least communion,' I thought.


Oddly enough, at communion, he was dispensing at our aisle and the one next to it (I thought he'd be up at the sanctuary aisle; we were the one behind). I was about three away from him on my side of the double queue when the doors burst open and monsters of all descriptions came in, claws and teeth bared, ready for the kill. Thank G-d our teamwork in the dream was as seamless as it is in real life, or it would have been carnage. I don't remember any dead, but there must have been in that first entry, before we moved. As it was, we got everyone else out safely, then tore to the sacristy.


In the sacristy stood a cow. Somehow, we had an invocation/prayer that would turn it into a creature that would help us against the onslaught of demonic animals. I had begun to recite the prayer when a huge, lizard-like monster passed by, paused and grinned at us, then went up the steps behind the sacristy. I knew I couldn't stop reciting, and it moved so quickly, we couldn't grab it to either kill or hold it to transform it. My heart broke. I finished as quickly as possible and we waited, breathless. Suddenly, the cow started to change, growing fangs. 


'Kill it, Irim. We have to kill it!'


I could see a golden glow around it. 'No, wait, it's fine. This is the middle.'


I could sense his tension, but he trusted me. Suddenly, the transformation was complete, and a stunning red, yellow and blue feathered creature sat in front of us on one of the sacristy tables. We moved towards it. Somehow, I knew it was meant to be a phoenix, though it was currently flattened in the middle, looking more like a feathered serpent (and yes, it was only as I typed this that I got the Quetzlcoatl reference and looked him up - had no idea he was associated with Venus, whose transit was visible today).


I resisted stroking its gorgeous plumage and simply said, 'We need to go upstairs and save the others. Something like a basilisk passed as we were calling you...'


It looked at me and said, 'It's too late for those upstairs. Go, save yourselves and the others down here and outside that you can.'


Every fibre of my being protested, and I knew his did too. But then I knew - I knew that the Quetzl phoenix was going upstairs to save those that it could and that we would only be in the way. At that moment, I went to stroke it in thanks...


and woke up.

Demon dream

As I've often said in this blog, I'm a prolific, vivid dreamer.  I dream in colour; I can often remember 3 dreams a night; I often wake up unsure of what is real.

I took him into myself But even with those parameters, last night's dream was a doozy, bringing a whole new definition to 'real'. 


It was a dark and stormy night in the dream, as it was here last night. I was in my room - same dimensions, but completely uncluttered with my bed facing the other way. No curtains, the window was much bigger, and instead of looking out onto a development,it looked out onto a city street. 

I was half-awake from a nightmare, when the Nightmare Nemesis comes in - HUGE yellow eyes, humanoid, reptile skin. We started struggling. But instead of pushing him away so I could run or try to destroy him, I pulled him to me, with the intention of drawing him into me, much as Ged does with the shadow at the end of the Wizard of Earthsea.

The sense of groundedness and sudden rush of power was intense,  and I sensed a second gremlin was out front, so I ran down the steps, onto the pavement in the rain  - and I also caught and integrated him. Knowing there were more out there, I yelled at the night, 'Come here! BRING IT ON!' But there was silence, and I woke.

It took several minutes to realise that I was actually back in my own room and fully awake - recently I've had what I call 'Russian doll' dreams, or a dream within a dream, and I've thought I'm fully back when I'm not. 

But this one really felt like I'd dropped into a parallel universe overnight, it was that real - and something HAS shifted. I'm not sure what and how much yet, or how it will manifest, but it feels profound.

Bring it on. 

Lenten dream

I've been so tired over the last few weeks that when I've slept, I've slept deeply, remembering only a very few in full, but many fragments. Last night I had a very full, very vivid dream about being in a castle with one of my best friends, who was dancing off on her own everywhere about the castle. There was a sense of...crossroads and chaos, with the odd person - fire-eater, juggler, and so on floating through the dream.

There was a huge suspension bridge on the grounds, one that felt so vast that it was terrifying to cross. There was always a thrill stepping onto it, an awareness that it led far beyond just another point on the castle grounds. As soon as I stepped on it, I was in conversation with an angel, one who never materialised, but was very present. I wish I could remember the conversation I was having with him when I crossed the first part of the suspension bridge one morning, carrying a package across. The bridge zigzagged across the grounds in labyrinthine fashion, in what seemed to be an infinite number of gleaming white sections.

The next thing I remember is a dark night, a new moon. I needed to cross the bridge; I knew that. The section I had crossed was no problem, and I was sure that I could cross the next one. The angel's voice was muffled now, though I could hear him questioning my need to cross it at night, my need to prove I could do it at night, at the darkest time.

I crossed the first part of the suspension bridge, came off it, and approached what looked like a darkened guard house, one that housed something that terrified me more the closer I came to it. But despite the immense resistance, I doggedly moved forward until I hit an invisible wall and I heard/thought, 'Why do you always need to push yourself too far? Maybe you need to stop.'

'But I need to cross.'

'Do you need to cross now? Or can you step back and wait?'

For once, I listened.

As I walked back down the suspension bridge, I looked up to where I thought the angel should be and sobbed, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know my faith isn't great enough. I'm sorry.'

'Or maybe,' came the gentle response, 'it wasn't time - you weren't ready.'

Dream 1: Analysis

Ok, as promised, dream analysis of the first dream here.

This entry is an analysis of the dream about work, where I'll put myself into the roles of people/symbols who seem important.

1. Dresses: I have to admit to finding it difficult being an inanimate object, but here goes. I am simplicity and luxury in one: clean lines, but lush fabric, one that - like you - begs to be touched. I am freedom and I flow: both attributes that are naturally yours that you deny yourself, like your femininity. Your fear is that each of these will make you weak: that forcing yourself to challenge, to always stand up and speak, being tough are what make you strong. They are not. What resists the relentless rhythm of the sea or the power of the air as tornado? You do not need a hard shell, nor do you need to mete out resources to yourself by inches to prove that you are a survivor. If I am summed up by anything, I am summed up by this: abundance. Abundance that you do not allow to flow in because you see life as a burden to be borne, something to be paid for, rather than as a free gift to be reveled in, to be fully owned, to be liberal with.

You believe you have shaken off all of the baggage your parents left you - but this, that life is hard, that life is a burden, that you will not get what you want - that, you still carry. And it is your last, and greatest, barrier.

2. X: I am the universal spirit of generosity, the archetypal mother, bringing you abundance - do you not remember how much I carried in? There was plenty for everyone, but you couldn't trust that, just like you couldn't trust your own mother, who would give only to take back or betray. So you let others go in front of you to take the risk, to see if any trap is hidden in what I have to offer. Once you decide there isn't, you come forward. And then you feel that there is nothing in your size, not the red dress you want, that there is nothing for you - that everyone else has and you don't. And that reinforces your belief that life must always be a struggle, that it denies you, that life will never freely give you anything. You just walked out - you didn't even wait to see, nor did you ask if there was something else. You ASSUMED that you had been betrayed and that there was nothing for you, that there never was.

You forgot that in the form I came in, I was a seamstress. Why didn't you ask? Why didn't you TRY something? Why didn't you work with me to create something uniquely yours, something you might have loved even more than your pre-conceived idea of what you wanted, rather than storming off, assuming I had lied to you, that I had betrayed you, that I had chosen to withhold from you, to deny you and you had to go elsewhere for help? That may have been your childhood, but it isn't your life now. Open your eyes, see what is offered. I AM BRINGING IT TO YOU, LOOK AND LISTEN.

3. G&P: Much as you love us, we are the people you envy. The people you see as having a simple, straightforward time getting what they want, for whom life is effortless, those who take it as a given that happiness is theirs. Those who take it as given that happiness will come their way, and because they believe it, it does.

4. Y: I am severity, austerity, extreme criticism, stinginess. I look at those around me with judgment and contempt. I look at MYSELF with judgment and contempt. I give little, I love even less. I am trapped in my story. I am what you are afraid of becoming, but that which you need to face in yourself to avoid that. I am prickly, like a cactus. Dry. My roots go deep. But let love's healing rain fall on me, and you will see the most brilliant blooms nature has to offer. Embrace me.

5. Manure field: I may seem to be the most disgusting of places to be, but I am the most fertile. I am the potential garden that you walk across, that you try to escape when you climb over the gate. Instead of walking over me and ignoring me, kneel - get to work with me. Seed me. Because of me, you can grow anything in this garden. Work me. Don't let me go to waste because you think of me as your blight, as your burden. I am your potential.

6. Barn: Like the manure field, I represent your LIFE. Note my spaciousness, my light, my structure, which is both simple and beautiful - begging for you to make a mark on it. Instead, you want to leave me and walk away, starting again elsewhere. Don't. Stop going from place to place, never making anywhere yours, holding yourself back from me. Paint me. Put pictures on my wall. Take risks. Bring to me the velvet, the plushness, the sensuousness to balance my simple structure. Currently, I am a storage space for whatever is happening at the moment, something you bear, you survive. I am begging you to make me your home, as the manure field is begging you to make it your garden, for she is an extension of me.

Whoa. So I was in my life, which had various things happening, but mostly work, when the universe brought me the essence of who I am, combining simplicity and sensuousness, clarity and passion, but I didn't think I found it in my size, and I chose not to work with the universe because I don't trust anything that comes to me, so I stormed out. I then walked across my potential, born of what I've borne - like a survivor, like the traveller in Alan Parson's song - ready to leave, ready to make do somewhere else, yearning to start over - whilst the universe, the mother, followed me trying to talk to me, and I WOULDN'T listen.

Main themes:

Mistrust
1. Deep doubt that there will ever be anything good for me, doubt of abundance
2. Unwillingness to look at what's being offered if it's not exactly what I expect to see if it's a manifestation of abundance; I need to unwrap it to see if it's a blessing
3. Lack of awareness of how much potential there is around me and in me
4. Ditto how much help is around me
5. Need to keep the edge, but love it, so it becomes an asset: crisp like an apple rather than sharp like a poisoned dart
6. I need to own my life and make it mine rather than just write it off and assume the next one will be my 'real' one - the structure is beautiful and the potential immense
7. Need to allow myself my sensuality and love of abundance and fun
8. I need to listen like my life depends on it - if the universe is chasing me down to talk me into staying, then there must be so much that can be done with this. I remember the barn was immense
9. REAL issues with femininity here - my own and trusting the feminine, the receptive quality. The garden is feminine, I refuse to make the house feminine. I refuse to let myself go to it, though I will use qualities of it if necessary, and as my friend Jack once said, "You are well maternal." AND, interestingly, even though I lean towards Our Lady and feminine imagery of the Godhead.

Ok, this will probably have edits/additions later, but for now, that's where I am. Over to you - really. The comment section is really going to help here, since this is a new technique for me.

Dream experiment

Monday night, I had two very intense dreams - and considering I had about 5 hours of sleep, tops, that's not unimpressive. I've come across a method of interpreting dreams that is very powerful, so I'm going to post them and try to analyse them as a blog exercise.

The way this works is that one takes all the important symbols/people and becomes them. Speak from the "I am" perspective: "I am X, and I represent Y, etc."

So here are the dream summaries:

Dream #1: I was in what looked to be a big barn conversion with folks from work - it was light and looked like a fashion designer's room, actually, or the costume room at a play/production - and we were doing some kind of Christmas pageant at the party. X came in with an armful of dresses that looked medieval: long sleeved, full-length cream chemises with overdresses, something like this, but with a rounded neck and more velvety in texture:



They were also in deep jewel tones: red, blue, green. I asked X if there were enough - she said that yes, there were plenty. I allowed others to go first: P got a small, G a medium and then it was my turn, as I passed G & P adjusting their overdresses.

I flipped through the dresses with anticipation, but nothing in my size, or rather, a large in a colour I didn't want (or there was something else wrong with it). I went ballistic, at which point the barn went dark and I delivered an outburst that shows how little I really trust the world: "What the FUCK? You said there were plenty. NO ONE ever tells me what's really happening. Everyone got what they wanted. No one made sure there was something for me. There's NEVER anything for me."

I stormed out under the disapproving gaze of Y and the stunned countenances of all the others - into pure manure. Not frozen, not even dry - boggy manure that sucked your foot in up to the ankle. I was so angry, I was shaking and ready to cry. X followed me out, walking with me across the (interestingly, also indoor) manure and stood by me as I went over the stile and gate, trying to listen, calm me down and let me know it could be sorted.

Some pretty obvious stuff here, but it goes very deep, so I'll want to be:

• The dresses
• X
• Y
• the manure field
• G &/or P, possibly
• the barn, I think

Then we'll work from there.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dream 2:

I was near Cape Town, having just been driven out of it along the highway by a woman I don't know IRL. Interestingly, we were driving on the right side of the road, which is wrong. CPT was to our left - she blessed it as we passed - and we pulled into a layby.

I was barefoot, and stepped out onto an asphalt walkway covered in broken glass. I thought about putting on shoes, but she told me to trust, so I kept walking, and looked up to see a two story peach coloured stucco house - something like this:



We went to the top floor, and there was a gorgeous room: part canteen, part game area, part shop area. but more generally all purpose room full of black boys and young black men. Our arrival turned some heads, but they kept on what they were doing: some studying crafts, some playing, some working the canteen - but all happy. There was broken glass being used ornamentally in the jet black tables, and clearly some used in the stained glass windows in the room.

I stood in awe, feeling electricity running through me as she said, "They were all orphaned and left to die, look what they've done."

My last thought before I woke up was that the friend I was in Cape Town with NEEDED to know about this.

Here, I need to be:

• Friend driving
• Road (why on the wrong side?)
• Path
• Broken glass
• House
• Room
• Possibly the boys as a collective; the whole idea
• Possibly CPT itself: what did it represent, why was I there? This feels tied to a dream I had about the Southern Cross months ago.

Those will be the subjects of the next blog entry or so. Stay tuned.

Dream log 15/04/09

There was more than one dream last night of note. I'm fighting for the memory of the one just before I woke up, but the one that came just as I was falling asleep is one that I am not likely to forget any time soon. Yes, it was one of those 'wake up with your heart pounding, was it really a dream' dreams

I was standing in a huge cave with a good friend - there was lots of light coming in from an entrance to our left and behind us, and from above us, where there was a natural skylight slightly obstructed by a huge rectangular piece of rock jutting across a shelf just below the opening. Weirdly, though neither one of us is an engineer or a geologist - both our fathers are engineers, but different types - we were knowledgeably discussing the cracks in the rock and the safety of the cave. I was pointing to the rocks in the wall and saying, "They're just fine - but if you look up (pointing to the rectangular rock) - THAT is a serious stress fracture, and we need to be worried about that." He nodded thoughtfully.

Suddenly, the earth beneath us shook, and I had a quick vision of houses folding as if they were origami, before looking up to see the rock break in two along the crack and fall - too quickly for me to get away, and I was buried underneath it.

Oddly, my friend DID make it out, though I have no idea how. Possibly because he was slightly to my left and a step behind me, or he'd already started to move. I somehow *knew* there was only time for one of us to make it out, so I wasn't bothered by the fact that he didn't grab me or try to save me too - I knew we were both where we were meant to be. It was absolutely fine. I was completely calm in the dark; I could hear him calling me, but I turned all my energy to finding my way out. Somehow, I managed to stand up underneath it, dropping the two halves of that huge rock from my shoulders like they were styrofoam.

"Irim! You ok?" I turned around to see his head poking through the cave entrance.
"Ja," I replied, assessing the situation and realising I couldn't exit that way.
"We going to have to anchor a rope, have you tie it round your waist and lower you to the floor of the cave and get you out that way."
"Fine," I said, managing to reach the rope he'd thrown my way, and tying it round my waist, feeling the tension as he adjusted it at the other end.
"First, we going to have to bring you up - can you reach the two little girls there if we do that?"
I looked up to see THREE young girls trapped on a ledge near the roof of the cave. I looked at him and said, "There are three - do you want me to get all three?"
"NO," he said emphatically. "If you can reach the two nearest you, I can get the third, no problem."
"Ok." He hoisted me up and I just managed to grab the two girls nearest me as the rope swung. I held them tightly.
"Great. Now we'll let you down slowly. We'll see you at the bottom."
It was unnerving beyond measure to be lowered with my arms full and not be able to use them to feel more balanced, but I held onto the little girls for dear life. The pitch dark seemed to last a lifetime, and children zoomed in out of the darkness to hold onto me and be lowered down, some desperately wanting to be hugged/held so that they could feel safer on the descent. Just once, I started to go to hug one, but held onto the girls for dear life. I was NOT going to let them fall. The others could hold onto any part of me - legs, torso, whatever - but I was NOT letting go of the girls.

Finally, gently, my feet touched the floor of the cave and the kids let go of me and ran through the small, triangular opening through which the sun was streaming. I gently put the girls down and looked out to see my friend and the third girl grinning at me from the other side of it as we moved out to join them.

Dream journal, 29/03/09

This morning's dream (I woke up at 5.15, then fell back asleep) is one that reminds me to pick up re-read Clarissa Pinkola-Estes' "Women who run with the wolves". Even *I* recognised the golden/divine child archetype the moment I woke up.

It was dark, and I was on the top deck of a bus going up the Woodstock Road. My friend (I can't remember who it is now, I knew when I woke up) and her mum were in the seat behind me. I was very, very sleepy - as in 'could barely lift my head off the seat' sleepy, and in that sleepy reality was sure that my friend's mum was driving. As we passed the Oratory, I turned around, noticed it was all lit up and saw a sign in the forecourt. I knew I had to go, and I drowsily asked my friend's mum to drop me off. When the bus didn't stop at the next bus stop, I turned around to ask her why she hadn't dropped me off, then snapped wide awake as I realised. I got off at the next stop and ran back to the O.

I walked into a HUGE reception area that looked more like the front of a school or university. People were sitting, milling around, chatting. There was a makeshift stage in the NE corner, and it was clear they were setting up for mass; but I didn't recognise most of the people there. Above the stage hung a banner proclaiming "Sacred Harvest Festival". I was puzzled, since we've just entered spring (From various cues, it was clear that it was taking place early this week.)

I peered through a set of doors opposite the entrance and saw the Oratory Church I'm familiar with. I sat down with my back towards those doors, facing the stage, joining a friend and beautiful, blonde-haired girl of about 8 in a white cotton dress, with the most gorgeous curls - who seemed oddly familiar and was clearly expecting me. I chatted away with my friend whilst the young girl listened.

Suddenly, Fr Richard came out of the doors leading to the church, looking very tense and closed. He put his hand on the girl's shoulder and announced,

"Due to the absolute insistence of the group saying mass with us, we will be having a girl altar server at mass today. I am terribly sorry."

Then he turned on his heel and walked away, as I tried to absorb what I'd just heard. I looked down at the little one, grinned and hugged her tightly, then turned to my friend and did the same - we both must have had the same look of joyous disbelief on our faces. But then the questions came galloping through my head, "Who is this group, and how powerful are they that they can push the English Oratorians into a corner like that?" "Sacred Harvest Festival? Here? In SPRING?" and so on.

Suddenly, I felt a tug on my sleeve. The girl tilted her head at me - she never spoke out loud, but I always knew what she wanted - and 'asked' where the sacristy was. Realising that everyone seemed to have 'forgotten' to tell her, I said, "No one TOLD you? How passive-aggressive," and walked into church with her, pointing out the sacristy. I was going to go up with her and rake someone over the coals, but she stopped me in the centre of church - halfway up the centre aisle - and shook her head. She then disappeared into the sacristy.

I went back to chat with my friend, and when the bell went for the processional, I again found myself in the centre of church to see the girl in cassock and cotta leading the processional - as thurifer. There was a flower pinned to her cotta, possibly a daff, but it was more lily shaped. I was FURIOUS, certain that someone had pinned it there to mock her, and started to move forward in my anger, but her eyes met mine and she shook her head. The message was clearly, "Leave it, *I'll* take care of it."

Hardly the actions of a real 8-year-old.

I didn't dream about the mass, but I DID dream that I texted "OMG, we had a GIRL altar server this week! SO COOL!" to the two members of community on retreat this week (the ones who, as luck would have it, would be able to stop me from smacking someone) and that I was reporting back on the mass to Asta (also away this week), "She was AMAZING. Absolutely perfect, she was practically MC - she corrected Fr Richard when he made a mistake. Brilliant."

Then I woke up, wondering who she was. I remembered that I dreamt of her almost 2.5 years ago, on a cliffside by the ocean, and she stepped onto a path of red dust along the edge of the cliff that led off into the distance, towards a darkening sky. As the wind freshened, she turned back to me, her curls blowing in her face and kept looking, beckoning me to follow - interestingly, she has never once spoken to me out loud, but she has always communicated clearly.

In that dream, I didn't know whether or not I had.

Having just met her again, I hope I did.

Dream journal 20/02/09

I was reading in bed last night when I drifted off sometime around midnight and had the following dream:

I dreamt that I was in the guest room in the house I grew up in (it doubled as a study room for me; for some reason my parents thought it was a good idea).

I was myself now, and the house was empty - no parents, no brother, and I turned around to see Satan enter the room. I was unafraid... Read more and asked him what he wanted. I'm really cross that I can't remember his response, but I do remember that it was a completely civil conversation. It was very normal.

Then he turned to go, and I was suddenly overwhelmed by his loneliness and exile, and just ached for him and for all he had lost. Suddenly, his eternal fall, his punishment, seemed so terribly, terribly unfair and wrong.

"Wait," I said, and he turned. And I leaned in to kiss him. I think he was a bit surprised.

This was where I ended the explanation on my facebook status, mostly because there just wasn't going to be room to go on.

After I kissed him, Satan asked me to come with him, which I did, and we entered a very cool, dark building with high ceilings and smooth brick walls, lit by torches in brackets. He chained my wrists to the wall (for those who think how might make a difference to analysis, above my head), but I didn't feel trapped. Again, I can't remember the conversation or what he was showing me, but I remember feeling completely in control and calm, responding as necessary.

It was where I was supposed to be, when I was supposed to be. It was absolutely fine - I was completely unafraid, completely in control, and relishing the exchange.

I was sorry I had to wake up when I did to turn out the lights.

Dream journal 16/01/09

I have a slew of blog posts in the works, but this one needs to be written - it feels like the one that is blocking the rest of my writing, including my essay. As you can see, it's from 5 days ago, so really needs to be done now.

Last Friday night, I had two dreams that I remember very clearly. The first was an anxiety dream, which always shows up as travel problems for me: being late for a plane, missing a bus, not having my luggage, can't find where I'm going. In this one, I was sharing a room with one of my male friends and his girlfriend (don't ask, I don't know either), and I had to get going. I went shopping in a mall at night, and then went out to find the LAST bus that night. Even though I left the shop with everything, I no longer had my jacket or my bag and had a hard time finding the bus stop. When I did, I couldn't get on and was getting really upset when I woke up.

Classic anxiety.

The next one was big.

I was outside the house (much bigger than the real thing), sharing with the same housemates I have now. Up the (non-existent) drive came Fr Simon, current prior at BF in his habit (sans cappa) and his straw sunhat, bringing me the post for the house. I cursorily flicked through it, but my interest was taken by a bouquet of gorgeous tropical flowers with a huge box underneath it. I looked at Simon and joked, "WHY does my housemate get all the nice stuff??" Simon laughed and left, carrying on his rounds, I guess.

It had been a bright but chilly day outside, yet as I walked up the stairs to put the post by various people's doors, it became darker, as if only moonlight and starlight were coming in the windows. The carpet on the stairs and in the upstairs hallway was off white and plush under my feet, the walls were white...clean, not clinical. The hallway was dark as I entered it, with three wooden doors at the far end. At the top of the staircase, I needed to turn sideways to avoid a large, standing wrought-iron candelabra with about 10 candles in it. The candles were white.

I had put a small package for me on the kitchen counter downstairs. When I reached the upstairs hallway, I put down the gorgeous tropical bouquet, and as I did so, noticed that the large central flower was a protea. I went to put the box by Clare's door, pettily thinking, "God, why doesn't someone send me something like this?" [I know what this ties into for me, which is something very human...there are times when I think, "I am so sick of being happy for EVERYONE ELSE."]

Then it occurred to me to do something I hadn't yet done: see to whom it was addressed.

It was addressed to *ME*.

I sat down in the candlelit hallway a bit sheepishly and opened the box. It was stunning. There were gorgeous scented candles, bath things, the most beautiful blue-green translucent stones that I kept running through my fingers. It was all pampering stuff, and I realised that the gorgeous bouquet was for me as well. I couldn't stop smiling. In the corner of the box, I noticed a letter on pink stationery.

I picked it up and started to read, and as I did, the voice of one of my closest friends, an art therapist, started reading it:

Dear Irim,

Here is a gift for you so that you can prepare for your man.

I laughed, and looked down at the box, which had gotten far bigger. In front of me was something new - real gold...tweezers or tongs - and further along were little compartments I couldn't see into yet, but desperately wanted to.

I picked up the letter again and flipped to the back, and was surprised to see that it was signed "Jack" - and my friend isn't a Jackie or a Jacquelyn.

Today, I went round to hers and told her the dream, which she loved. Several things came up:

1. She noted that it was in colour and every sense was represented.
2. Also noted: every 'element' was represented - fire, air, earth, water - and for the 5 element Chinese system, wood.
3. She asked what 'Jack' meant to me...and I said names? It certainly didn't have a male feel to it, and the only Jacks I know are male (sorry, CJ, don't think of you as one).
She said, "No, brainstorm. Surprise gift - jack-in-the-box. Jack of all trades. Jack it in."
We discussed it further and she mentioned that the one feeling she had from it was 'be still' and the phrase about Our Lady "she pondered these things in her heart."
That led us to my reading the first and last part of the letter, rather than reading it all the way through. "Jumping Jack" came up then, as did the need to go through everything, rather than rushing.
4. I noted that I had assumed that the flowers and box *weren't for me*, that the good stuff *never comes to me* - that it was so much a part of my mindset that I hadn't even LOOKED to see who the addressee was.
5. She noted that the box had gotten bigger and was still giving - she called it a cornucopia. "Ah," I said, "Demeter, the eternal mother, is my main archetype." We discussed Persephone, Queen of Hades as part of that as well.
6. She felt that these were *my* inner gifts that were coming into fruition/consciousness. Makes sense as I came UPSTAIRS - from the subconscious into the conscious.
7. Also noted - the gifts were of cleansing (bath), spirit (candles/stones) and change.
8. I'm running around chasing too much - I need to let things/God come to me. And they will. I need to sit, wait, be still - and I think there's a real call for my prayer to become more meditative.
9. I'm being taken care of/nurtured/mothered.

Over to everyone else - I'd love to hear from you.

And now, let's see if the writing block to everything else is over...

Dream journal, 04/01/09

As part of my New Year's resolution to read signs and patterns more clearly, here's the first big dream of 2009.

I dreamt that I'd just had a baby girl, and was bringing her to be...baptised? Named? Dedicated? The reason I hesitate is that it wasn't a proper Catholic baptism - there was no font, I couldn't see a priest, etc. I couldn't see myself and my husband, though I could hear our conversation.

What I COULD see was the baby (and she WAS gorgeous, if I do say so myself ;D) in her disposable diaper (sorry, folks) and naught else; a white background - which I later worked out was an altar covered in altar linen; and the most beautiful wrought iron candelabra with short, fat, white candles, already lit. The altar seemed to be divided into thirds:

1. On (my) the right third of the altar was a moving picture of night scenes and constellations, a glimpse of the Aurora Borealis/Australis.

2. The centre was where the candelabra was.

3. To the left was a circle with symbols around it; I think it was in red and blue. It looked similar to an astrological circle, but I don't think that's quite right. There were also objects at various intervals around the circle.

I placed the little one on the centre of the altar, behind the candelabra. It looked like the candelabra was up against her physically, and I freaked out briefly, as any good mother would, but that turned out not to be the case. She was very content there, kicking happily, and I watched the right hand side of the altar, the stars wheeling past, and one scene that looked like "Song of the Sky" from Digital Blasphemy. I wish I could remember what my husband and I were saying, but I think it was mostly inconsequential.

Then I picked her up and placed her in the circle on the left hand side and her right hand reached out for one of the objects - interestingly, a golden candlestick with a white candle in it. I must have known what it symbolised in the dream, because I turned to my husband and said with deep amusement and affection, "Looks like she [takes after your side of the family]," then gently disengaged her hand from the candlestick and picked her up.

I woke up, as I do after all big dreams, committing it to memory and musing on its meaning. As it was only 04.20, I fell asleep again and had another dream, but all I remember is having to go underground to teach, standing at a blackboard with someone else and some recalcitrant students, trying to get them to commit something essential to memory. The irony is, of course, I can't remember what it was...

Any and all thoughts welcome. Over to you.

Dream journal, day 1

Day 1, here goes:

1. This dream was quite long, and seemed to wrap round the others in a way. The space was never defined and kept shifting, but the lighting was a bright, bright natural light. I was going through a fairly normal day, though I sensed it more than saw it. The main part of this dream was auditory: a voice that kept saying, "Remember, Irim, 'shan'" - or a word that sounded like that. In the dream, I knew it meant calm, centered, grounded - the still place in the middle of a violent storm. At the end of the dream, I was holding a little girl on my lap (I knew she was mine, but I don't have children) and was beginning to read to her when the voice came again. I responded, "I don't know if I can."

Response: "Yes, you can, or you wouldn't be asked. You have to."

I hugged the little girl closer and the dream faded.

2. I was in a HUGE building - it wasn't dark, but there weren't any lights on. It was very Middle Eastern/Muslim in architecture - the same kind of arches, airiness, openness. Pink, which wasn't *too* unfortunate, but still... Very, very high ceilings - cathedral high and then some. I knew it was a school of some kind, and I had helped bring back a child who had disappeared. In front of me were two cheques which were rewards for what I'd done and though I felt a bit uncomfortable accepting them, the first one was reasonable. The second one was a large cheque - both in amount and size, and I remember saying, "I can't accept this, it's too much."
I'm not sure who was behind me - there hadn't been anyone initially, but he answered, "It's your due. Please, take it." I went to pick it up as THAT dream faded.

3. I was in a lounge with my brother (7 years younger) - whom I haven't seen or spoken to for about 10 years - looking at a white board in shock and disbelief. The lighting was very bright - a stand up lamp or several behind me. He was sitting on a long yellow sofa. I looked at him and said, "What do they mean when they say you can't read this?"

He said, "Well, I can't. What's the problem?"

"I'm sorry, how old are you now? What grade are you in?"

"I'm 8. I'm in 3rd grade." (He looked much older than that)

"Oh, well that's different then. NO. WAIT A MINUTE. YOU WERE BORN IN 19... - YOU'RE A LOT OLDER THAN THAT."

Fade to black.

4. And the final dream. I was an observer in this one rather than a participant. From behind and above, I was watching a group of law enforcement officials (not just policemen) gathered in what looked to be a briefing room with bright flourescent lights. They were trying to catch a serial killer. (Ok, yes, we know I watch too much CSI, Criminal Minds, etc.). It was clearly an American team, so I asked where I was. I saw a map of the US, with a red dot in the NW. When I looked it up today, it turned out to be Ketchum, Idaho, near the Sun Valley - where Ernest Hemingway committed suicide. Hmm.

One of the policemen was ringing a fellow officer in another part of the state to come and join the manhunt. "Hey, the work will start tomorrow, but tonight we can go out to a bar, have a few drinks, catch up. What do you say?"

I suddenly felt really apprehensive. I wanted to say, "No," but couldn't. Suddenly, my awareness was taken to the other end of the phone call. Even though it should have been daytime, it was very dark. All I could see was the police officer's boots, which were damp and covered with hay. I could hear him say, "Mmmm. Yes, it would be good to see you." I grew more terrified as I saw freshly dug earth and looked down the hill from his car, where I knew there was a body just out of sight. As he got into his car, my awareness was pulled back to the caller, who threw his arms up and said, "He's coming over! We'll have an extra pair of hands, but first, a night of drinking!"

I went to say, "NO! It's HIM. It's one of you!" Then I woke up...

I can see a couple of patterns, but over to you first...

Have fun!