THE BABY IS IN THE BAG!

 Kari Strand http://jpgmag.com/photos/3110860
Picture by Kari Strand

June 22, 2018

While on my first MKP Staffing at Claymont Court in Charles Town, WVa it was my first night there we had arrived on the 21st and as customary I was eager to have a dream to share in open circle this morning.  When I was about to wake up I remembered, don’t forget you’re bags.  My mind wanted to recover the dream but the dream interpreted it as my bags.  So I returned to the dream.

I re-enter the dream space to recover my bags.  Sitting in the the right side of an otherwise empty room is one of those grocery shopping bags you take with you to the market to avoid using plastic bags.  I rush over and quickly grab the straps of the bag.  As I turn I become aware of the walls in the dream which are constructed of flowing energy the energy is alive like colonies of ants withing bubbles that float to and fro across the canvas waiting their next assignment.  I recall my purpose completing my turn and glimpse the contents of the bag.  I am expecting to see my cloths and sheets and other articles from the weekend adventure but instead deep in the bad is a baby swaddled in a blanket sleeping.    The surprise jars me awake.

In morning circle I shared my dream and as I was sharing it the meaning hit me, The Baby is in the Bag.  It is quite coincidental I found this picture on the net with a baby boy in a King grocery bag.  If you are familiar with the work men do within Mankind Project you would know we look at our shadows and the archetypes of King, Magician, Warrior and Lover in mythological story of Iron John so the picture seemed PERFECTLY suited for my dream.

 

 

 

Cat Tail Walk

May 5, 2018

In last night’s dream I find myself looking for an Airbnb which I have reserved.  It is a shared space.  I drive around the block twice looking for the parking lot.  I am struck how my memory has full awareness of this location even though I don’t recall ever being here before.  This confusion causes me to miss the parking lot entrance even though I know exactly how to get there.  Once I put my trust in my inner voice I am able to find the parking lot.  I proceed to enter the rental unit and take a shower.  I am in the shower with my socks on yet my socks are not getting wet.  I now feel refreshed.  I return to the bedroom I believe I rented but find there are two other individuals staying in what I believe is my space.  I address the issue with the host who tells me that IS my space.  I complain I rented the space for myself and assumed the house was shared not the bed I’d sleep in.    Upset, I demand a refund.  The man tells me he will issue me a refund but he can’t do it immediately.  He can send it to me in the mail.  I feel vulnerable knowing I don’t have lodging.  I enter the three bedrooms to advise the guests about the discrepancy and injustice for them to witnesses the transaction occurring.  Like cockroaches to light the guests scatter to busy themselves.   I decide I will simply return home and consider it a loss. I feel justified in having received a refreshing shower and I’ve not lost my socks.

The parking lot sits on the top of a hill and there are steps which lead me there.  At the top of the stairs is a walkway bridge with only the side railing and nothing to walk on.  There are inner city children playing here unsupervised.  The children are fearless.  I wonder where they found the courage to do such risky things.  There is a 2 yr old crossing a bottomless bridge.  He is unafraid of falling.  He has a cat’s tail on his diaper that allows him to balance on the railing.  He has obviously done this before and is up to the challenge.  I ask where the mother is but the kids don’t yet speak so they are unable to communicate with me other than to simply acknowledge.

As I woke up I ran to the bathroom and returned to get a few more minutes of sleep.  As I closed my eyes I could see a black and white picture of me.  The image came in closer and closer such that I could see the fine pixels which looked like rice.

Symbolism of Rice

Rice is an ancient symbol of wealth, success, fertility and good health. It is powerful.  Tossing rice at the end of the ceremony is meant to symbolize rain, which is said to be a sign of prosperity, fertility and good fortune. 

The Kids Table

I had a dream where I am trying to coordinate a flight with my ex Joe.  I have to find a place to park my car but the airport parking lot is full and I’m told by the parking attendant that there is a detour and he advises me to find another option.  He points me in the direction of a metered spot but I am suspicious of that spot because I don’t want to get a ticket just in case I don’t get back in time to pick up the car.  Instead I go looking for another parking space.  I am able to find street parking nearby.  I don’t know when the flight is but I do know it is scheduled soon.

I then find myself trying to save my goldfishes.  Someone has placed them in a bucket with very little water.  The fish are struggling to swim.  I feel a strong connection to them as if they were my children.  I go looking for a water bottle to try and save them. I find a blue and grey bottle in the kitchen cupboard.  I fill it up with water and pour it in the bucket only to find the bucket has holes everywhere.  Someone is trying to sabotage my effort. One of the fishes is already dead.  Mocha and Cleo now eat the fish not knowing they are special.

My brother Paz is trying to entrap me between a concrete wall. Paz  has sided with Trump and is now a terrorist.  He is jealous of my spiritual connection and wants to kill me or have me go missing so that he can claim my property.  I’m really tired of dealing with the Paz’s character and decide I will no longer be part of it.  I refuse to give him power over me.  I step into my faith in the knowledge that I am OK regardless of what Paz is  doing.  I then surrender and step into the space between the  concrete walls.  My friends Toni C and Stephen are here along with other friends from various groups who have come to this space to support me.  The space between the walls begins to provide a clearing.

Those gathered here tell me that they have gathered my seed and I have born a child but that the child has the defect of illegitimacy.  They bring the child to me and I feel compassion for his situation.  I take the child and he grows up in my arms.  I teach him how to fly and watch him become a man.  We take flight together and become one.  I feel him against my loins and groin and in my spirit with a feeling of ecstasy.  The feeling is beautiful and overwhelming.

Now in full flight we ascend to an elevation high above to the tops of the buildings where I see a bezeled window with a cut out shape much like a cookie cutter opening.  The opening is large enough for my spirit to pass .  We pass through the opening.

We are in flight.  He is now a full grown man.  Having taught him everything I pass my power to him and now he carries me.  I can feel the wind touch my body.  We are facing each other.  I am moving backward as he is moving forward.    Its time to find a resting place.  As we descend he becomes younger and younger.  Once we land his presence leaves me.

I then find myself sitting at a wooden picnic table where I meet a man.  He is seated beside me.  I am talking to the memory of my son as if he were still with me.  I feel silly talking to someone that is not there.  I’m afraid the man seated next to me will think I’m crazy.  I am telling the man about my dreams and how wonderful they are.  I’m getting confused.  I can’t distinguish whether I’m dreaming or not.  Although I am in a dream, I do not feel like I’m dreaming.  A young boy comes up to me from out of the blue.  Without skipping a beat, I continue talking to him as my son.  He tells me about school and what he is learning.  We have a fun conversation about playful things.  I share with him how my life is.  He then runs off telling me he needs to head back to school. As he is leaving, I remind him how much I love him.

I then resume talking to the man who is sitting next to me.  I tell him how my dreams reveal my son.  I struggle to describe what I have experienced in all its fullness.  You have to be present to fully appreciate the magic.  Once again I feel silly believing the man will question my sanity.

In that moment from out of the blue a young boy appears to hand me a chocolate.  The chocolate is wrapped in an orange shinny tin foil paper with crinkled edges.  I open it to find a hand written note inside.   Reading the note, I recognize it as something I have written.  In that moment the universe opens up as my awareness expands.  I am fully aware of the dream and the magnitude of what it presents.  I am in a dream yet I am awake.  I experience synchronicity and deja-vu in the dream as in my waking life.  Knowing this is my opportunity to see my son’s face,  I take a good look wanting to know if he bears any resemblance to me.  I am surprised to find that he is the same person as the λλale Carrier from my previous dream where I asked him if he had any male for me.

 

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Last night as I as falling asleep I found myself standing in front of a brick wall.  I’m thinking how I can get beyond this point feeling I need an entirely new approach or course of action.  I look down and notice that both the wall and I are moving.  The moment I notice it the speed at which change occurs is phenomenal as if we had gone through a time warp to travel great distance.

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I also remember seeing babies in bassinets being rolled on their sides and back as if to clean them.  They were playing the tumbling game with the children.