More Late Nights with Ezzie Dryar (32. Dreaming)


TEN of WANDS. Oppression (inverted). Force detached from spiritual sources. Fire in its most destructive aspect. Inverted, it could me self-sacrifice or generosity.

That would be the dream I had after the dinner party. I gave away everything – even the clothes off my back. Nudity dreams are nothing nude … new to me. I’m told they happen when I feel exposed or at risk. Sometimes they are freedom dreams. This was probably a little of both.

You know me: an exhibitionist who keeps herself to herself. I guess that would be a “closet exhibitionist.” I long to have my clothes off, but worry if I show a little too much sin … sick … um, skin.

Anyway, the dream. It started back at the party, and the showing of the henna. Instead of un-tucking my blouse or hiking up my skirt, I progressively removed each garment and gave it to a member of the coterie. (Elsa got my panties – strange.) Anyway, after I had taken it all off with a few members of the coterie remaining, we all went back to my house where I proceeded to continue giving things away … to anyone who came by at that point … until everything was gone except me and my house, which I duly gave to Evie.

Talk about a lucid dream … that was probably the most lucid dream I’ve ever had, except maybe the one about having silver skin, but that was a long time ago.

“Force detached from spiritual sources.” I think of that line and wonder, was the dream an attempt to reconnect with the spiritual? I had to purge myself of the wordy … err, worldly? It’s possibly, but at the end of the dream, I found myself giving my body to the men that were there, including Marcel. That may have been my consciousness trying to regain control, as the dream turned so suddenly. Before anything happened, I awoke – a sure sign of that being the case.

The dream was surely a message. Now I have to just interpret its meaning. Turn to the spiritual, yes, but how? What kind of spiritual? Would I have to choose between Wiccan and Catholicism? For me, that isn’t a choice. Part of me is each of those, and belief has little to do with it. I believe what I believe, and there isn’t a choice about it. I just have to do it in a more spiritual way.

Whatever that is.

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