Discovering Sigil Magic

I got interested in sigil magic in a roundabout way.

It began last month when I attended the Hay House Writers’ Workshop. On Day 3 of the online conference, Colette Baron Reid was a featured speaker. As part of her presentation she led us in an exercise to connect us with the spirit of our book.

We were told to get a piece of paper, and were led in a meditation. Then Colette asked us to make a dot on a piece of paper, ask the spirit of our book a question and draw whatever we saw or felt.

I was working on The Spirit Dream then and I knew that book had a spirit—a real one, or as real as these things get. So I asked my question.

What do you want for this book?

I didn’t hear anything. But I did see something—which happens rarely due to my aphantasia.

An 8 pointed star.

A symbol I associate with the spirit of dream.

I take symbols seriously because I believe that they’re how spirit talks to us. So the star meant something too me and the fact that I saw it meant something, too.

Though I was not clear on the details.

What Happened Next

I followed Colette’s instructions, drawing the 8 pointed star, enclosing it within rectangle and then drawing waves of energy emanating out into the ether—not even knowing that I had drawn my first sigil.

And while I didn't get an immediate answer to my question, answers did come.

By the time the workshop ended, I knew that I needed to put the source of my project first.

Not long after, I had a clear insight into what the spirit of my book really wanted.

To be heard.

So I started publishing it to my AuDHD Author Substack where it would be free to read.

And with that decided, I decided to explore the process Colette had given us.

I bought her book, The Art of Manifesting, and did some online reading about drawing and intention setting.

And that's how I found out about sigil magic.

What is a Sigil?

Just to be clear, Sigil magic doesn’t have to be some dark Seal of Solomon kind of thing. In it’s modern applications, in fact, it’s really just another way of manifesting.

I know that manifesting is controversial and my feelings about it are mixed. I was a critic of The Secret and I think New Thought is simplistic, at best. But this feels different.

In contemporary practice, a sigil is created from a statement of intent. All you have to do is formulate your intention, write it down, cross out the repeating letters and create a design from the letters that are left. This provides a symbol or focus point that you empower and release.

Sigils are popular in chaos magic, which teaches that there is no single way to empower a sigil. As in other forms of magic, a practitioner can choose whatever energy they want. Personal intent. Deities. Spirits. Sacred places. Ritual. Correspondences. Creative imagination.

The list goes on which is why sigil magic is sometimes considered gray. But it doesn’t have to be.

People have been using sigils in the form of amulets and talismans since Sumer and probably before. The 8 pointed star I drew is a symbol of Inanna, who I’ve associated with the spirit of my dream.

In ancient Sumer the 8 pointed star was used in amulets of Inanna. This is what convinced me that sigil magic is something I want to explore.

These are the books I’m working with:

• The Art of Manifesting: A Meditative Drawing Practice to Rewire Your Brain and Create Your Reality by Colette Baron Reid
• Practical Sigil Magic: Creating Personal Symbols for Success by Frater UD
• Condensed Chaos: An Introduction to Chaos Magic by Phil Hine
• Learn to Read Ancient Sumerian by Joshua Bowen and Megan Lewis

Ur-Nammu dedication tablet for the Temple of Inanna in Uruk (public domain)

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

📖 The Backstory 

I started this blog in 2010. 

Three years after my life imploded. Deep in what I would later learn was autistic burnout. A state that was the inevitable result of a lifetime spent pretending to be someone I wasn’t.

This was not my first experience of burnout, named or not, and I knew what to do with it. I returned to the spiritual and creative interests I’d left behind years earlier.

I did yoga. I wrote stories. I went back to school for graphic design. I read mythology and literature and vampire stories. I got a job at our local paper.

But it wasn’t enough money, and I had kids to think of. So I went back to my old life. And this time, when I burnt out I sought help and was immediately misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder.

Heavily medicated and unable to engage with the things that I loved, I sunk into a deep depression. And then I had a dream.

🌙 The Dream

The dream was unlike any dream I’d ever had before. It was complex and vivid and remarkably coherent. It was so numinous and beautiful I knew it came from somewhere else—somewhere not-me.

I called it the Spirit Dream. And while I had no idea what to do with it things were different in its wake. I had other unusual dreams. I had spiritual experiences. I noticed synchronicities I could not dismiss.

Nobody in my day to day life understood what was happening to me then, or cared, so I started The Mystic Review because I needed a place where I could make sense of my experience.

I blogged my way through the New Age, Spiritualism, earth-based practices, and everything in between. I loved everything I was doing but I did it too hard. Things went wrong. I got burnt out again. I went back to the church.

I set The Mystic Review to private. I stopped writing down my dreams. When something seemed synchronistic, I dismissed it.

Until I couldn’t.

Because spirit wasn’t done with me yet.

✨ What Happened

In 2022 I was diagnosed with autism. In 2023 I hit a wall with my writing and took my first parapsychology course.

I began my first Substack newsletter, Writing on the Spectrum, in 2023 in an attempt to make sense of my autism and later ADHD diagnoses.

In 2024, I returned to dreamwork. Later that same year, I discovered Carl Gustav Jung. Synchronistically.

I saw the Spirit Dream in a whole new way—and I knew it was time to come back here to The Mystic Review.

I set the blog to public. I republished many of my old posts. And I started sharing some of those posts to substack at Writing on the Spectrum.

I finished a novel in 2025 and started another. And in between I wrote a neurodivergent spiritual memoir I called The Spirit Dream.

In 2026 I finished my paranormal romance novel and the memoir.

📝 What I’m Writing Now

With two books finished, I was interested in learning more about publishing so I took a workshop through Hay House. On day 3 of the workshop  Colette Baron Reid led us in a connect-with-the-spirit-of-your book meditation. I saw an 8 pointed star—a symbol I strongly associated with the spirit of the spirit dream.

I had been going back and forth on what to do with the memoir, knowing it probably wouldn’t get read on Amazon. The meditation brought me back to source and source seemed to be saying what the spirit of my book really wants is to be heard.

So I started serializing it to Writing on the Spectrum.

Then I started thinking about what The Mystic Review might want. And my intuition was that it would like its own space on Substack. So that’s what I’m doing.

The Mystic Review will continue here at this URL indefinitely, but all of the content will also be availble in the Mystic Review Newsletter. 

You can sign up for it here:

Photo by Stephen Wheeler on Unsplash

The Mystic Review turned 15 years old today August 22nd and received its millionth page view last week. It’s still a milestone I never expected to see. And almost didn't--considering I put the blog on hold from 2017 to 2023 as I pursued various Christian denominations.

I've gone back and forth on the topic of writing my memoir a lot. On one hand, it seems completely ridiculous for an ordinary person who has not achieved anything unusual in life to write a memoir.

On the other hand, I lost hope and a dream saved me, and I feel called to tell that story.

UDATE 1/9/2026: Please note that this is my original intro. Writing the memoir has been a process and I've gained clarity on the project as I worked on it. It isn't a strictly a spiritual memoir anymore, though there is still a lot of spiritual content.

Here is the new blurb:

📖 Blurb | I was always different. Sensitive. Passionate. Clueless. People didn’t understand me, and I didn't understand myself. I made mistake after mistake. I turned myself inside out trying to live a life that didn’t suit me. When that life imploded, an unusual dream set me on a spiritual path. But the spiritual systems and traditions that worked for others never worked for me. Finally, I found out why. The Spirit Dream is the story of my journey to a late-diagnosis of autism and ADHD, and the dreams, synchronicities, and creative processes that guided me.

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

The Project

I like online media because my neurodivergent brain can handle short articles and even shorter podcasts without a problem. Long-form writing is a challenge, but I was able to finish a short vampire novel this year, anyway, and have a sequel in the works. 

I feel good about those projects and there is no shortage of ideas for other books. 

The book idea I want to talk about in this post is a memoir about the dream I call the Spirit Dream and how it affected me. I don't really like the idea of writing a memoir, but I feel called to tell the story of the dream because of the difference it made in my life.

The Affect the Dream Had

I spent the entire decade before the Spirit Dream suffering one loss after another. The vision of a perfect family. My lovely home. The profession I had trained for. My extended family. My entire inheritance. My ability to write.

I wasn't diagnosed with autism then and didn't know that I was in deep autistic burnout, but I knew I'd given up. And then the dream came and changed it all. Not all at once, of course, but gradually.

My family regrouped. Finances improved. We moved into a new house that is much better than the in-between one. Those things probably would have happened, anyway. What wouldn't have happened was the life I now lead.

The Spirit Dream kicked off the spiritual journey that became the Mystic Review. It taught me things that mattered. It brought me back full-circle to the place I needed to be. Not the picture-perfect life I projected. My real life. The one that I was meant for.

It took over fifteen years to make that circuit and during that time, a lot of things happened. I went on some amazing spiritual adventures. I made and lost friends. I had other dreams that helped correct my course. I learned important things. I rediscovered my creative spark. And in the end, just this year, an unexpected synchronicity put it all into perspective. 

There are still more questions. Just like there will always be more to learn. But I'm ready to share what I have so far. 

Not my wisdom. Dream wisdom.

But that doesn't make the writing any easier.

How I Struggle with Writing

I have poor executive functioning and a lot of self doubt and when I hit the 10,000 word mark on any project, I start ripping thins apart. 

Which is part of the reason I started and restarted the Spirit Dream story at least five different times. Each version had a slightly different focus. One version was about faith, another was about autism, others were about me. And not a single one of those versions worked.

The issues were thematic AND structural, as my writing issues always are.

And then I started working with my dreams again and waking up in the middle of the night with words running through my head. The words came in phrases and paragraphs and pages—and one of the phrases was, "structure the book on the dream."

So I went back to the Spirit Dream and saw that I had divided it into five parts. This was something I'd done a long time ago to make it readable. Now it occurred to me that five parts might be a thing. And it was.

Sister Regina Kelly is probably shaking her head in heaven right now, but somehow I had forgotten Shakespeare and the five act structure.

The Spirit Dream, as I wrote it down that morning in 2008, had that structure. Baked in.

So what does all this mean?

The difference between a symbol and a sign according to the Jungians is that a sign communicates a single thing, while a symbol has many different meanings. Dreams are full of symbols. So it makes sense that I would get multiple insights from this most recent encounter with the Spirit Dream.

One insight has to do with theme and another has to do with structure. But the most important insight in my opinion is that is this is something I need to do.

As always, I will keep you posted <3

Of New Dreams and Old

Some symbols are universal. Others are personal. For me, circles are both.

When I have a dream that has a sphere, or a disk, or a looping path that brings me back to where I started, it always seems to mean something. So when a recent dream had a circular element, I paid attention.

And the more attention I paid, the more the structure of the dream reminded me of another, older dream—one whose full meaning has always eluded me. 

I had that dream in 2008. My life was at a low point and the future seemed bleak. And then there was the dream. A big magical dream. Brimming with color. Filled with mysterious symbols. Making me think that maybe God had remembered me.

I called it the Spirit Dream and, for the next ten years, I went from one metaphysical stopping point to the next, trying to make what I found fit. But it never did or, at least, never did for long. 

Then, a couple of months ago, I heard Murray Stein interviewed on This Jungian Life, and something he said absolutely fit. It fit so well in fact that it cast the Spirit Dream in an entirely new light. And in that light I saw that the dream wasn't really about a particular spiritual practice or deity or decision. It was about my inner life.

I didn't really know what to do with that, but I felt like I was supposed to do something. So I joined the This Jungian Life Dream School, applied to a Dream School dream group and got accepted. 

Then, I had another dream. The new dream wasn't as big or as beautiful as the old one, but it was still a dream about a journey, and I was still encountering things along the way. I felt that this new dream helped explain the Spirit Dream, or that maybe it picked up where the old dream left off.

The Journey by Bus Dream

In the first part of the dream, I have a boyfriend who is remodeling a house for me. I’m happy about this because I like him. He has a second house that he is also remodeling. My memory of the dream boyfriend is that he is a tall man and may have blond curls.

Someone has given me a metal disk. It is gold or brass. The back is gold colored. The front is red with a gold center. It seems important to me but I don’t know what it is or how I got it.

I am in the town I live in. I am going to my house to meet the boyfriend and some other people. I am driving north on North Main Street and miss the right turn up the hill. I’m stressed about being late and looking for a turn. 

Most of the side streets are one-way (the wrong way) and the only one that isn’t is very steep. I remember hearing a story about a city bus—which is what I’m driving—that went up the steep street and how all the passengers bounced right out of their seats when they hit the crest, so I keep on driving. This part of town is kind of run down.

I pass a roadside parking area on the right. The parking area is a small dirt lot that’s part of an old, abandoned motel. I remember that there used to be motorhomes for psychics there and that you could go there for a reading. I think there is still a sign advertising the psychics (in the dream). But now the psychic motorhomes are gone and all that’s parked there are various work trucks.

I reach the larger intersection (with a hard right) I’ve been looking for and see there is roadwork and traffic barricades in place. A man is directing traffic and I realize that the road I want to take (the hard right) is temporarily closed, so I turn left into a small thrift shop. I go into the thrift shop and see there is a big pile of journals for sale. 

I sit down on the floor and start to look through the journals and realize they are all mine and I have donated them to the shop. One has my writing in it and I think I should probably buy it so other people don’t read it but I buy another bigger (unwritten in) journal instead. I hear water running like a shower.

I go back out and see the roadwork is done. The man directing traffic is gone. I have to make a U turn which is a big wide swing and difficult to negotiate with the bus but I manage it. I am waiting for the light to change so I can go left up the sloping hill to my house. 

I start thinking about the boyfriend and realize that the second house he is remodeling is for him to live in. I feel okay about that, but I know we'll have to discuss it. I decide to tell him I’m autistic and that it’s good that we won’t live together because I don’t do well with live-in relationships, anyway. I’m relieved to realize that I have a way to explain myself.

From Point A to Point B

The Spirit Dream described a full round-trip journey to a mysterious location, while the new dream was nothing more than an ordinary drive from point A to point B. But, even though the drive was short, I passed things that seemed to have meaning.

The steep hill road. The abandoned psychic parking lot. The thrift store, full of old journals.

Three events. Just like there were three events in leg one (and leg two and three) of the Spirit Dream journey.

So I decided to submit the new dream to the dream group and see what they had to say, and I got some fascinating insights.

One member pointed out that the journal choice might represent a fresh start. Another said that the boyfriend who planned to maintain his own home might be an animus figure. Everyone was curious about the red and gold disk. The group connected the disk to amulets and to alchemy—and it seemed to me that this was the real key to both the new dream and the old one. 

I'd always thought that the color red in the Spirit Dream symbolized my own unevolved spiritual nature. Now I wondered if I'd got that wrong. Maybe red wasn't about failing or being at spiritual ground level. Maybe it was about transformation and the possibility of change.

But I wasn't sure if change was still possible. It had been a long time since the first dream—and there were parts of the second one that seemed to reflect some of the mistakes I had made. 

The lot where the psychics once parked reminded me of the various spiritual practices I'd tried and abandoned. 

The old journals made me think about the hundreds of thousands of words I have written here and elsewhere. Words which sometimes seem to have served no purpose whatsoever. 

The steep street seemed to reflect all the opportunities I had missed and all the things I'd thought I'd accomplish, but didn't.

But that wasn't where the A to B journey ended.

Instead, it ended when a road block was removed and I was able to correct my course. 

One really interesting things about the Journey by Bus dream was that it followed the actual layout of the town where I now live. So I know that the turn I was getting ready to make when the dream ended led to the same place as the steep hill road. 

Home.

Which makes me wonder if the Spirit Dream was ever about a mostly external spiritual journey. Or about writing my opus or discovering the truth with a capital T or doing any of other things I’ve imagined and then left undone.

Maybe the dream was really just about getting on with my life after I'd been laid low. Maybe it was about taking a chance when it felt like there wasn't one good thing left in universe. 

Or maybe not. 

Because, unlike signs, symbols point to a multitude of things.

Generously, my dream group has agreed to look at the Spirit Dream in our next session, and I'm curious to hear what they have to say. It is a very old dream but if I'm still dreaming about it I think it makes sense to look at it one more time.

____________

Photo by Ali Alauda on Unsplash

The Podcast

I discovered a wonderful new podcast this week. It's called This Jungian Life and it's hosted by three real-life Jungian analysts. Each episode presents a topic, and ends with the analysis of a listener's dream. I have really enjoyed the dream segments and like doing my own analysis to compare to that of the hosts. I also like the topical portion of the show. A lot.

The hosts are articulate and knowledgeable and so unexpectedly funny I found myself laughing out loud as I listened. More importantly, I feel I've already learned things from them. 

I have heard several episodes (including two on the shadow which were excellent) already but the episode I want to talk about in this post is called Unlock the Power of Symbols (video follows). The guest in this episode was Murray Stein, author of Jung's Map of the Soul: An Introduction (affiliate link) and I was so impressed with him that I bought his book the second the show was over.

When I was in my New Age phase I talked about synchronicities a lot even though I didn't really understand them and to be honest I'm not sure I understand them now. But when Stein quoted Jung as saying that a synchronicity is an act of creation in time I felt like I was being shown another, more theoretical perspective.

And an example followed.

The Spirit Dream

So there I was, doing the dishes and listening to the podcast and wishing I could ask Murray Stein to help me make sense of the Spirit Dream. I was thinking that I wouldn't even have to get him to take on the whole dream. I would just ask him to help me figure who the lady in blue was and why she seemed so important—and what was up with the whole color thing (read The Spirit Dream in full if you'd like more context). 

I have often thought that the spectrums of blues I was shown in the dream  exceeded anything I've ever seen witg ordinary waking vision. Sometimes I have wondered if there isn't something reminiscent of an NDE in that, but I've never been sure about any of it.

The interplay of red and blue in the Spirit Dream seemed significant to me from the start and I have always supposed that color was the key to the dream. 

Murray Stein

I was thinking about these things and how nice it would be if Murray Stein could tell me about my dream. I wouldn’t even ask him about the whole dream, I decided. I would only ask him to explain what blue meant in the context of the dream and why it felt so important. 

And just at that exact moment he said:

So there are archetypes and there are archetypal images... [and] Jung makes a very important distinction (you can read about this in a paper he wrote called the Nature of the Psyche in Volume 8 and I use that a lot in my book Jung's Map of the Soul).

He [Jung] lays out a spectrum [and] says the psyche is like a spectrum from ultraviolet to infrared.

On the infrared side it disappears through a psychoid membrane into the body, into physiological processes and there's an interplay between body and psyche—the psychosomatic interplay. The psyche can affect the body. The body can affect the psyche through that psychoid membrane.

He says on the other end of the spectrum there's the ultraviolet end of the spectrum that's blue—the psyche disappears again through a psychoid barrier or membrane into he says "what I can only call Spirit,.." and that's where the archetype exists.

And the archetype emits... [and] influences the psyche. The archetype influences the psyche by giving it images so when you have powerful images coming into your dreams, for instance, we call them archetypal images [or] Big Dreams that are related to mythology and fairy tales and all that.

The archetype... beyond the psyche in the... spiritual world is emitting some energy and it's coming into the psyche and then it takes the form of a couple of things: It can be an image or it can be a big idea [that] can be an inspiration, you know, suddenly [the] aha light goes on [and] you understand something.

So... the psyche disappearing into the spirit world on the one hand... [and] the psyche disappear[ing]     into the material world on the other hand... Now there's where Jung tried to tie that together—the material world and the spirit world—in his theory of synchronicity: Something happens in the material world and in the psychic world at the same time. It has meaning. 

It delivers meaning.

Afterward

The Video

My Takeaway

Photo by Andrea Leopardi on Unsplash

It was almost three A.M. on a summer night in 2008 and I was wide awake.

So I passed the long sleepless night on the computer, drifting from one website to the next, until I stumbled upon a bible passage I knew by heart. 

The 23rd Psalm.

I remembered how I had committed this psalm to memory as a child and how I used to recite it before bed sometimes when things seemed dark. So I said the old familiar passage right there over the keyboard and then I set aside my laptop and fell asleep.

I woke up the next morning with a sense of excitement I hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. 

I didn’t usually remember my dreams, but I remembered this one. It was detailed and magical and absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. 

Heart pounding, I turned on my laptop and captured my journey through the night as quickly as I could.

Aside from the headings and a few very minor edits, what follows is the account of the dream, as I typed it out that morning.  

Part I: The Hospital

As the dream opens, I’m approaching a big hospital. I’m working as a nurse again and this is the first day of a new job and I’m not sure where to go (a common problem in many similar dreams). I go to several outside doors and find them locked. Finally, at the last door I find an elderly woman on the ground in severe pain. She tells me that she has had two difficult surgeries and that she will die before she goes back to the hospital again.

I don’t know what to do or say, so I go in through the door. I’m looking for the emergency room and at first I am lost. After asking for (and not understanding) directions (another common work dream problem) I wander onto an elevator. There is a young doctor in a brilliant white coat inside the elevator. I tell him what has happened, and he gets off and goes with me to see the woman and her relatives, who are there with her. He tells them that she doesn’t have to come into the hospital if she doesn’t want to and they take her away.

I am at a brightly lit a nurse’s station. I have the feeling that I’ve been working here for some time. And that there are no bad feelings associated with that (which has never happened to me in dreams about nursing or in my nursing career in general). The young doctor is at the station too, looking at charts. After a moment, he stops and says that he has to move away soon and that he needs to learn the route by traveling it. He suggests that we all need time away from our work and that we should go on an adventure together.

Part II: The Journey

We take two cars. There is an odd assortment of women (presumably nurses). One is very beautiful. Her eyes are a vivid sea-water blue and her face is high-boned and delicate. She wears a layered gown of shimmering blue silk and I find her very exotic. Around her neck hangs a deep blue sapphire necklace and some of the bluest lapis I have ever seen.

There is an older woman, as well. She looks like a woman I know in real life [heavy with short blond-gray hair]. She is sweet and lost and seemingly lonely, just like her real-life counterpart. There are several other women. One is young and withdrawn [pale with long dark hair]; the others have already faded. As it turns out, this is a journey of discovery. There are moments of awkwardness because I don’t know anyone well, but there are other moments that seem almost euphoric.

We are on a train and I spend time alone. I am sitting in a day car with many windows. The car is rushing through a sunny countryside though I am more aware of the streaming sun than I am the scenery. As I sit, an idea for a book overtakes me. The images and characters and dialogue are vivid. And they stream through my mind so quickly it is all I can do to write them down. The story is about a man involved with two women. One is young and beautiful, but she is also married and in the end, he chooses the one who is unencumbered. The manuscript flashes by from beginning to end. Somehow I capture it.

A lot of different things happen. Sometimes we’re on the train and sometimes it seems that we have disembarked along our way. We are in a jewelry store. I see many lovely things. I look at a small locket depicting a traditionally Catholic guardian angel with children, but it’s small and drab - nothing like the beautiful pieces worn by the woman in blue. I sense that it is all that is available to me but I don't buy it. In another scene, the women and I decide to swap clothing. I have a single article of clothing I’m proud of—some sort of gold and red top. I offer it to the woman in blue and she accepts it.

Part III: Our Destination

It seems that we have arrived at university or school. The woman in blue shows me a sort of screen that is not a television but a bright flowing blue flowing into many different shades which appear as if pressed between two panes of clear glass. The screen swivels like an old-fashioned chalkboard and the many shades of blue swirl together in changing breathtaking patterns. It is vividly blue and has a shine to it that is almost metallic. It reminds me of a sand art item I saw once in a variety store but much, much better. Its beauty and the spectrum of blue is unlike [wider] anything I’ve ever seen before.

The women and I are together in a classroom. A book review or lecture is being delivered. A man is showing us pictures from a book he has written. At first the content seems Buddhist and then it’s something else, but I don’t remember clearly just how it is different. We’re all moved by his presentation and find it very inspiring. For some reason, we know all about him and are surprised he’s become so spiritual. It seems that he was famous in some way earlier in life and that he had a bad reputation at that time.

Then I am outside with the young [pale, dark-haired] doctor. He asks me about my parents and I tell him something. briefly, without going into detail. He letters a sort of monument to my father (in cobalt blue). He invites me to letter the one for my mother myself, but his lettering is perfect and I have terrible handwriting (in dreams and in life). So I ask him to do it for me and he does. The monument only has my parents' names. Or I think it does because I don’t recognize the characters or letters. The monument includes no information about who they were or what they did. But it seems complete as is.

My mother’s monument transforms into an ornament made out of clear glass with deep blue lettering. I know that I’m supposed to hang it in a tree at our family homestead and, all at once, I am there. It’s not the big main farmhouse where my mother grew up but something similar to the smaller house that she lived in before my grandfather inherited the farm. There is something about the tree having been cut back in preparation. I hang the ornament on a branch and leave.

Part IV: The Return Trip 

I find myself back on the train and discover an old book. The cover is a work of art—old fashioned, intricate, tooled leather. It is dusty and a bit worse for wear, but still handsome. I’m very impressed with it. I open it and see I have written it. I’m surprised but, at the same time, I remember.

Finally, we’re at the end of our journey. We sit at a big table and talk about how we have changed. I’m wearing a sparkling red [ruby or] garnet bracelet. We decide that we should exchange jewelry as souvenirs of our trip.

I don’t want to give up my bracelet, but I offer it anyway, secretly hoping that the woman in blue will give me some of her lapis. Instead, she gives her jewelry to the older woman (who has nothing to offer her in return). I feel disappointed but understand that this is the right thing to do. Although my desire for the beautiful blue gemstones is strong, there is no associated envy or bitterness. I feel strongly that all is as it should be.

The young doctor thanks us and tells us that he now knows the route he should take to his new home. He does not return to the hospital and I am not sure if the women return either. I have a sense of parting. It is bittersweet, but I know it feels right and I have no regrets.

Part V: Back to the Beginning

Finally, I am back at the hospital. Someone is holding a funeral for the woman who was lying in pain just outside of the door when I first arrived. The funeral is being held on the other side of the large parking lot. It is far away, at the edge of the lot, but I can see a seated effigy draped in red and understand that this effigy represents the woman who has died.

I am now inside the hospital. A patient on the floor where I work has passed and I remember that he was the man who taught us when we were away. I know his history, so I’m not surprised that he died alone. I’m not sad about it either because I remember his lecture and know that he was at peace.

As I am leaving his room, or perhaps the floor, a young girl comes in and asks for the man. She says that she is his granddaughter and I tell her he is gone. Surprisingly, I find the right words. I tell her that it’s alright, that he has changed, and for some reason her tears are cathartic for both of us. We leave the hospital together and I have the feeling that everything has come full circle.

Afterward 

I finished typing out the dream and turned off my laptop.

I was sitting on the same couch I’d slept on, wearing the same sweat pants and t-shirt I’d worn the day before. The room was still small and cluttered, and the stereo from the house next door was already blasting.

But everything had changed.

O you afflicted one,

Tossed with tempest, and not comforted,

Behold, I will lay your stones with colorful gems,

And lay your foundations with sapphires.

I will make your pinnacles of rubies,

Your gates of crystal,

And all your walls of precious stones. (Isaiah 54:11-13)

This post is excerpted from my upcoming book The Spirit Dream.

© 2025, 2026 Barbara Graver. All rights reserved.