This has been a tough week for a couple of different reasons. Chief among them, was the confusion I was feeling over a creative project. Luckily for me, a dream, a couple of synchronicities and some good friends helped me make sense of things.
This post is about where I was at, the dream that came at just the right time and the synchronicities and good advice that followed.
Where I was at
I had been struggling with the memoir I sometimes mention for some time.
You've heard me mention it before. Depending on how I'm feeling about it on any given week, I might consider it a spiritual memoir or autism memoir or both. This is only part of the conflict.
I had decided to include a 2012 dream I believe to be a visitation dream in the memoir and had started to think that I should also write about the relationship it referenced. This turned into an entire chapter on a very difficult time in my life. By the time I was done with the chapter, I saw the full impact this relationship had for the first time.
It was a lot to process and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue with the project, at all. I talked about this in my autism podcast which I'll add below.
What I didn't talk about in the podcast were all the associations with the divine feminine I'd been making all through the memoir writing process. Anyway, almost two weeks ago, now, I was feeling good about that, thinking that maybe that it the major theme.
I had even started re-reading When God Was a Woman and had a couple of relevant insights I put into the manuscript. I started to get that feeling I get sometimes, thinking that maybe I'm getting to the bottom of things, that maybe this is what my life experience (and by extension the memoir) is really about.
The more I thought about failed relationship chapter, however, the more I second-guessed. Eventually, I took most of the divine feminine insights out and resolved to focus on autism and brokeness and eventual wholeness as seen through an autistic (instead of a spiritual) lens.
For some people this wouldn't have been a big deal. Project change direction. But this is a thing for me. I build stuff creatively and then I tear it apart. I have come to think of this building-shredding process as a form of self-sabotage
Then as sometimes happens, I had a dream.
I called it the Rusty Key Dream and I couldn't help noticing how it referenced a 2012 visitation dream, now expanded to share a fuller account of relevant dream events. You can find the expanded account here on the blog at Lost and Found.
Anyway, that was the situation. Here is the dream:
The Rusty Key Dream (9/6/2025)
Scene 1. I have a booth at an indoor flea market. There is an outdoor sort of fair, then the building where I have my booth. I think the building is masonry painted white with a large opening (like a concession or covered veranda) where a woman sits behind a counter or long table in the shade. She is probably in her 60s. She owns the business and is responsible for the leases. She has a rough voice like a smoker and short dark hair. I think she might have dark cat’s-eye sort of glasses. Either way there is something kind of 1940s or 50s about her. She seems harsh or abrasive. I tell her I am not renewing my rental agreement for the next month. It is summer and I have a sense of sun and greenery behind me as we talk.
Scene 2. I have just attended some kind of event at our local mall and people are filing out of the venue. I have the sense that the fair / flea market is on the second floor. I am leaving with a man and a child (possibly ten or eleven). I have a vague sense of them but recall no detail. I remember that I have the rented booth upstairs and that I will need to get my things out before the lease is up. I have a table, my mother’s cash or strong box and a green crocheted tablecloth (I own this tablecloth in real life) still in the booth. I am worried I won’t get these items back once the agreement lapses. I wonder if I can get the table down by myself but then decide I can manage.
“Go get the car,” I say to the man. “I canceled my booth and need to get my table before they throw it out.”
“I thought the key didn't work,” he says.
I pull out the key. [I recall it very clearly.] It is a little like a strongbox key with a round head and simple geometric grooves. It’s made of lighter weight metal than a house key but is around the same size. The key looks old and is spotted w rust (in random circular areas where some kind of coating might have come off), not rusted overall.
Scene 3. I go back upstairs, I think by escalator. The woman is gone. I go down a white corridor maybe 15 ft long. It is a little shabby with closed doors on either side. Then I come to the door of my shop / booth. I put the key in the door and have trouble getting it to open. I’m not positive I get the door open but I remember seeing strong box and that the inside of the room being bare except for the items I came for so I guess I got in.
Possible Interpretations
I wasn’t sure about this dream but it seemed likely to me that the man and child mirrored the 2012 visitation dream. There had been a child with him when he walked me back along the boardwalk and there was a child now. I remembered very little about the child in the visitation dream and even less now. And the man I'd connected to the 2012 dream was vague.
Then, the Dream School I attended offered a special workshop on dream art. As the panelists discussed the value of drawing your dreams I drew the Rusty Key Dream (below).
As I drew, I found myself drawing the man too dark (as you can see in the head and neck area). He was gray, I realized, not black. Immediately, I thought of a computer and how sometimes certain unavailable options are grayed out. When that happens, you can’t select them, at least not then. I wondered if that was the message. The past could be processed but it could not be chosen.
I also started to think about the strongbox and wonder if it my meant to be my earthly mother’s strongbox or something else. Thinking about the items I was to retrieve—the table, the tablecloth, the locked box—I was reminded of an altar, a Catholic altar, complete with altar cloth. I remembered that the tabernacle is locked and that Mary is often thought of as the tabernacle (that holds the host/Jesus) in Catholic thought.
So there was an altar (which is my personal association with tables) and a locked box but the box didn’t contain the host. It belonged to my mother—but maybe not my earthly mother. Maybe it was another mother, the one I’d been reading about in When God was a Woman.
Maybe I was being called back to the goddess I had left behind. Ishtar, whose many epithets include Goddess of the Storehouse. Or maybe it was some other goddess or maybe I was completely wrong.
I decided to turn the dream over to my small dream group. All the feedback was wonderful and I still have to unpack some of it.
One member suggested that conversation about the key could reflect where I was at in terms of the individuation process in the past and where I'm at now (i.e. unable to unlock things vs. being in possession of a working key). It took a couple days for this to sink in for me but I love the idea of it.
Another member suggested that I count back ten or eleven years and look at what I was doing at the time. So I did. I actually counted back here on the blog. And I found the Goddess Dream.
The Next Synchronicity
So that was all cool and resonant but I was already halfway through the shredding my work process and not ready to stop. I did the podcast below around that time.
But while I was happy with the podcast, I was not happy overall. I wasn't sure what I was doing with the memoir or what I should do with the past.
I knew something was off about all of it. The intuition was strong and felt really dark. I knew I was sabotaging myself but I wasn't sure if I was right or wrong. I thought maybe other women interested in the divine feminine might have a helpful take on some of this.
So I started poking around online and found the following:
I loved how Jungian it was, using the same language used in the Dream School I attend. What if this is true, I thought. What if we aren't really divided against ourselves? What if we're not actually sabotaging? What if we are dealing with outlawed wisdom?
What if, instead shredding, we're supposed to listen?
Where This Leaves Me
I haven't resolved everything but I am paying attention.
I get hung up on language. I think it's probably a pattern-recognition related thing. I'm detail oriented. I put things together in weird ways and can be very critical of the result.
But maybe there's wisdom in that. Maybe I need to look at that critical faculty as a friend instead of an enemy.
I can't say for sure what's happening with the memoir but I think I'm getting some sense of the general direction. How it will turn out exactly is anyone's guess. There is a lot of work left to do, and it isn't all about writing.
__________
Read the dream that kicked this whole dream thing off here: The Spirit Dream
Post photo by Aleksey Nemiro on Pixabay.com
For... [the poet] there is no other woman but Cerridwen and he desires one thing above all else in the world: her love... Other women, other goddesses, are kinder-seeming. They sell their love at a reasonable rate—sometimes…for the asking. But not Cerridwen: for with her love goes wisdom.~ Robert Graves, The White Goddess
I have been think about Spirit Circle, feeling that mediumship isn't really for me. It's not about it being wrong or anything like that. It's just a lot of responsibility. People come for medium reading for different reasons. Some are just curious. Others are on the edge of despair, desperate to believe they will see a lost loved one again. To me, this is a heavy burden on reader.
I don't know if I want to continue with the circle at this point or not. I've made friends there, and I like going which complicates things. So, I asked for guidance in a dream.
I had the following dream a few days later. I'm not sure what it says about Spirit Circle, to be honest, but I feel that it's pulling me to something new:
I am standing on the edge of the dream which had come before wondering if this new dream belonged to me or if someone else was dreaming it instead. Immediately before me, a beautiful woman with long curling, light auburn hair is rising slowly and majestically into the air.
I see flowers and vines and tiny newborn pigs and sparkling drops of what I know to be milk spinning slowly around her. The drops of milk brighten until the shine like stars in the great drifting vortex of animals and vegetation. I am now suddenly quite close to woman, as if she is no longer above me, and I see each detail of this amazing train of life float past me, with a delicate, hyperreal beauty.
The tiny pigs are pink and tender. The flowers are colorful and detailed and incredibly vivid. The small traveling stars shine. I was in awe of what I am seeing but I am also quite clear. This is no ordinary woman. This is a goddess.
It's a wonderful moment. And then my modern sensibilities kick in. I find the tiny newborn pigs disconcerting and the milk seems odd and out of place. 'Why pigs?" I asked myself, and then I began to wake up.
Abruptly, right at the edge of awakening, a white sow's head flashes across this oddly beautiful scene. She isn't pretty but, like every else in the dream, the detail was remarkable. I see coarse hair, a single wild eye, a smudge of dirt.
And then I am awake.
I was embarrassed by the dream and didn't want to share it. I didn't even actually want to think about it. So I spent three days trying to ignore it. But it stays with. It is too beautiful, too vivid, too bright. And I know what dreams with that kind color and light always mean. I know it's a spiritual dream. Disconcerting or not.
So I decided to write about it.
UPDATE OCTOBER 2014: I did some reading about pigs and goddesses. At first I was drawn to the tales of Britain. I imagined the goddess traveling from Sumer to Egypt to land of the Kelts though there is no clear indication that's what happened. I read about the cult of the white sow goddess, Cerridwen and the flame-keeper known as Brigid. I learned that Brigid is associated with milk and a magical boar.
Inspired by their Goddess, the Keltic bards drank the fire of inspiration from the sacred cauldrons and called themselves her sons.
I learned that the sow was associated with the Egyptian goddess Nut and sometimes with Isis and would resurface centuries later in the ancient Greek worship of Demeter and Persephone. I read an article suggesting that Israelite sanction against pork was related to the worship of Asarte, who was once called Ishtar. I couldn't find any direct link to Asarte but I read a Bible Hub commentary saying that it was true that the pig was associated with idolatry.
I still wasn't comfortable with the imagery, but when I thought about the way the word sow or pig has been used against women over the centuries or probably the millennia, I saw my reaction in a different light.
Most importantly, I knew that without that detail - a detail so significant that it impressed upon my mind a second time as I began to wake up - the real meaning of the dream would have been lost or forgotten and I would have never connected the dots.
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| Goddess Guidance Oracle Cards |
My question concerned my problems with the new manuscript, the true nature of my life purpose and my problems with writer's block. Of the latter I will say that, as a former 10 page a day writer. it really can happen to anyone!
Please check back next week for my review of The Goddess Guidance Deck.
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| The World from The Goddess Tarot |
She has wonderful energy and I don't say that about a lot of people. She is a creative person as well and does lots of different things - something I notice in a lot of high vibration type people. She channels her own great vibe into everything she does.
Her shop (GypsySky) on etsy is always worth visiting. Great oils, candles, incense, and reading combinations!
Update: It is now possible to get a free reading from Tara during the course of her wonderful radio show Beyond the Veil on BlogTalkRadio Fridays at 11PM EST.
For my deck, home is a simple wooden box, a probable Indian import, with a smooth polished surface and brass inserts of sun, moon and stars. I keep the deck loose in the box because I like the energy of wood. I believe that it absorbs energy. I find a wooden Tarot box to be stabilizing and protective.
Decks come and go in my collection. I like to think that most of them, even the dearest of them, speak to me for a time - and then they speak to someone else. While they are with me, however, even if I have bought them only because I think they deserve to be passed along to some other more compatible reader, I take care of them and for me caring for a deck properly is all about energy.
| 1971 Rider-Waite (backup deck) |
You can read a lot about charging crystals on the net but I keep it pretty simple. In general, anything that appeals to me - full moon, new moon, waxing never waning moon, summer rain, the first snow, the garden in early spring - seems to work. The crystals don't have to spend the night outside, though they do seem to appreciate it from time to time, and I usually stay with them, lining them up in the moonlight and saying a few words with intention because people need recharging too. I usually allow the freshly charged crystals to surround new decks and my everyday reading decks, moving them around to mix things up, and recharging the stones as needed.
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