I had a dream last week that I was riding in a convertible with a small group of people. The driver was a blond woman. We were driving at the very top of a mountain. This mountain was very tall, a yellow ochre red rust color with white streaks. It had rounded formations at the top. She was driving very quietly and confidently but the two people in the back got frightened and cried out when the car appeared to be going over the edge but it was just a steeper part of the road that went up then down. She was angered by the disruption and turned the car around. It swung out over the edge. This part of the dream was extremely realistic and I remember every detail. I swung out along with the car, seeing the ochre colored rock disappear beneath us. Going along with the torque and pull of the turn, I looked up at the very blue sky. It had wisps of white cloud and a bird flying higher than us. It was terrifying, but we were fine.
I woke myself up because it was too much and I remember thinking what did I just experience?
Today, I wanted to watch some hiking videos on Youtube but nothing seemed interesting then I remembered a trailer for a movie that I had wanted to watch but I couldn’t remember the name. I figured it out after a bit…Free Solo and started watching it, but I decided to watch The Dawn Wall since that story happened first. As I was watching it, I saw the top of El Capitan in Yosemite and it looked just like my dream. No road of course, but the terrain and color was the same.
When I went outside today to get the mail, I got stung by a wasp. Usually, when I get stung by a wasp there is something that I am supposed to be paying attention to.
I had a dream this morning that I was witnessing or was part of a treaty or agreement. There was a great brown bear and a woman with straight, dark hair. They had agreed to discuss a compromise of some sort but instead of talking she strode up to the bear and shoved a dagger under his chin and into his neck.
He wrapped his great arms around her, pulled her to him and began to devour the side of her head.
Last night I saw a dark shadow moving by the furniture. This morning, I entered my safe space and asked about this energy. I saw the darkness, the shadow and my brain said to banish it, to ward against it but my heart spoke to me, saying to be kind, to show love.
With love, I asked the shadow to show its true self. Slowly, it rose up and began to turn transparent. It turned into a crystalline pale yellow energy, it was lovely.
A man appeared, an elderly Black man, tall and thin and he embraced the yellow form. He said “Blossom” with the sweetest tenderness in his voice and they both disappeared. She felt like his daughter or granddaughter.
I believe this energy vision that I saw and worked with is related to my past ancestry. A wrong that someone in my ancestral line perpetrated against Blossom and her father or grandfather.
Is this a way to make amends? to help heal some of pain and suffering that my ancestral line is responsible for?
Facing and deconstructing my colonizer ancestry is a journey. I have learned that whenever I feel uncomfortable or mad, then that is a prod to look deeper and to learn more. I am second generation southern but my family on both sides is from the north. Somewhat recent northern Irish and Danish on my father’s side, mostly English settlers on my mother’s side (majority of my DNA is Scottish). Most of my ancestors were farmers. Simply by being a white person, descended from settlers and immigrants I have benefited from the suppression and cruelty towards black and indigenous peoples. This is the shadow work…to face and dissect my ancestry.
I went outside in the misty grey dawn to see if I could view the eclipse. It is much too cloudy, we have had storms all week. I startled a Barred Owl right at the edge of the woods. They didn’t fly too far, I could see them perched on the silver maple tree. We have a lot of wildlife out here but it is a rare treat to see them so close. Lately I have seen more vultures than I can count, followed a red tailed hawk through the woods and left shiny buttons blessings for a dead crow. So many bird signs, this is a time of change, a time of growth. I am moving from Nauthiz to Isa, I am walking the spiral.
I had a realization today. I wanted to be available energy wise, for the passing of my friend’s dog in the Spirit Realm but I also had an errand to run. I did my ritual to enter the Spirit realm while I was heading out. I only ever do that ritual when I am home and settled in. I set an intention to be half in the Spirit realm and half in this realm until I could get to the park and settle in. I have heard from spiritual people over the years that we should always close the connection with the Spirit realm when we are done connecting for meditation, trance, tarot, etc. or we would be drained and it would pull on our spirits. But it was actually very comfortable. In fact, it was wholly familiar. This state of being is peaceful and it feels similar to when rain is on the way and the wind is blowing and the sky is dark but you know it is only rain and everything is safe. It feels like magic in the air. Turns out, I am in this state many times a day and I didn’t even realize what it was. I am starting to believe that we are often one foot in the Spirit realm and one foot out. I have always been comfortable with border areas, the hedge, the in between but I didn’t realize just how much.
Uruz…Aurochs, primal strength, health and the raw power of creative forces. Aurochs were the wild ancestors of modern day cattle…extinct by the 17th century. This is the second painting in my quest to gain a deeper understanding of the runes. My inspiration was one of the Lascaux paintings.
I dreamed last night that the area around the barn had grown over with moss and turkey’s foot because no one had been there in so long but when I went inside the horses were there. I knew they had passed on but they were there anyway. Prince was grumpy because he hadn’t had a treat in so long. I patted him on the rump and said, yes, yes of course, I’ll get some grain.
George Burroughs is my first cousin, 11 times removed on my mother’s side and he was executed as a witch at the Salem Witch Trials. He was hung until dead in 1692 then buried beneath the gallows. George Burroughs survived a Wabanaki raid in August of 1676. He was a Harvard graduate, a Puritan minister and many considered him to be a very secretive person. There were rumors that he abused and possibly killed his wives, but there were also rumors that he was the “Black Man” and the leader of all the witches at Salem. It was also said that he had the ability to read minds. He was believed to have inhuman strength, this was what they tried him for during the trials. A description of Burroughs in a reading by Frances Hill: “George Burroughs was confident, strong-willed, and decisive, a man of action as well as a preacher, unusually athletic and clever enough to do well in Harvard. Short of stature, muscular, dark-complexioned, he was highly attractive to women, as is shown by his winning the hand of a rich widow as his second wife when he was a mere village minister.”
Cotton Mather was particularly vehement that Burroughs was executed and was at the hanging personally. It is possible that Cotton Mather took a special interest in his case because he had “peculiar” religious beliefs, which may have been that he was an Anabaptist.
I have always known intuitively that I had an ancestor involved in the Salem Witch Trials but I never expected for it to be confirmed. My own personal connection spiritually was through an ancestor named Nathaniel. George’s father was named Nathaniel but also there are many Nathaniels a generation later as well. Every time I try to research George to compile his information in a more orderly and thorough way, my eyes go funny and strained as though I stared into the sun for too long. In fact when I first discovered my connection to him, I had trouble with my sight all day. So, this will have to do for now.
A painting in which George Burroughs is believed to be the man in the middle who is praying. George was able to recite the entirety of the Lord’s Prayer before he was hanged. It was believed that no witch could do this, but Cotton Mather insisted that he be executed anyway.