an interesting dream

In the dream, I was saving a little girl from danger. The chase to save her was a bit chaotic.

Then the girl disappeared into a building, maybe some kind of temple. But it could have been a dance studio. She ran in and disappeared, like a rabbit into an unseen rabbit hole. I followed her into the space, I went from outside to inside, and I was in a cavernous room with a nice wooden floor. Most of the walls were all windows. One interior wall was solid. The sunlight streamed in softly, with no glare, very nice.

The little girl that I had been trying to save was gone but there was a miniature person in the room, a person the size of a large baby, maybe an eighteen-month-old. This person was Asian. At first, I admit, I thought it was a baby. While I still thought it was a baby, this creature rolled all over that wooden floor. The sounds it made seemed to be a combination of language and anxiety-laden shrieks. The small creature would roll, stop, utter a bunch of sounds that may or may not have been language, and then the creature would roll some more. Sometimes this being would also sail through the air, ping-ponging off the walls and ceiling, just as it rolled along the floor. Think three-dimensional zigzags. Red neon light rays seemed to hang in the air for a few moments after this creature has winged by so the room had a misty sense of faint red light rays, fading away gently.

The movement of this creature, especially the light rays, was fascinating. It was also vaguely frightening. What kind of creature was this? What had happened to the little girl I was saving? And why had I stumbled into this odd scene?

Finally, I sent word, by kything, to another woman to come see what I was seeing. By thinking thoughts, I could communicate to other people by simply directing my thoughts where I wanted them to go. Madeleine L'Engle called this kything in A Wrinkle in Time. I kyth a lot in my dream life. Also, I believe, in my real life, that our thoughts send out real vibration and that, more or less, we are all always sending thought vibrations out from ourselves to the world, to the people in our world. This thinking, of course, is not always done in language, especially in my dreams. In this culture, most people want to slip into the fallacy that all thoughts take place in language but, of course,they do not.

"I need for you to come see this," I told the other woman in my dream. This other woman was also trying to protect the little girl. "This is so weird. I need someone else to come see it." I had a painful yearning to have someone else see the odd Asian creature shrieking, bouncing and zinging through the room. I wished to be validated. I did not want to be alone in the weirdness.

This other woman came to me. As she approached, I said, in English, "You just had to see this," and I gestured towards the moving being. I did not want to be alone in the face of the odd zone I was in. I was so glad she came to be with me.

As I said 'You just had to see this", the creature came to an abrupt stop. We saw that it was a miniature man, not a baby. The man spoke to me. At first, the sounds he made were incomprehensible. Before I could signal that I did not understand, he began to speak to me again, this time in Spanish. In Spanish, he said, "You are in my domain now. You will speak Mandarin or Spanish or I will smite you." As this small being spoke, he seemed to tremble with power. For just an instant, I thought he was angry with me but as I focussed on the way his being seemed to vibrate, I realized that he was so powerful that power just coursed through him. He didn't turn on this power vibe: it was just who he was. When I had this realization, it soothed me. I know this dynamic well for I am a very powerful being, I quite often give off greater charge than I intend to. Sometimes I am just radiating power and people, of course, project their own meaning onto the power surge. I have never understood how to manage this aspect of my being. I wanted to capture this dream to remember a coupole of aspects of the dream: this is the main thing I wish to remember. I want to remember that the miniature Asian man's whole being trembled with his power. I want to remember the subtle, visceral reaction I had to it: at first, I felt fear, just for a brief moment. Then I realized he was not angry, just being his powerful self.

When he told me I could not speak in English in his domain, I began to speak to him in Spanish. We were not speaking with our voices. We carried on the whole conversation without using our physical voices. We spoke silently, sharing thoughts back and forth. In Spanish thoughts, I asked him if I could explain to the other woman that she could not speak in English. He said I had to explain it to her in Spanish. "She does not speak Spanish," I said. "That doesn't matter. You cannot use English."

Next, I turned to the woman and said, in broad, badly-accented Spanish, speaking with exaggeration, "Tu no habla English". . . I said English to make it sound American, instead of pronouncing it 'inglez', which is much softer than English. "Aqui", I said the Spanish word for 'here' broadly again, and I gestured to the ground, to indicate 'here', "No inglez aqui". She understood me well enough.

"Where is the little girl?" I asked the very little man, in Spanish, without speaking with my mouth. Silently. He was, perhaps, twenty inches tall.

"There is no little girl. She was a daemon I created to bring you here. I want to see you."

I wish I could go on writing and tell you why he wanted to see me but the dream ended.

I have seen this tiny, Asian man before in my dreams. A long time ago, perhaps twenty years ago, I met him.

In this other dream, I was walking on a rising slope, in a soft, hilly landscape. The area was lush and had an aura of abundance. Flower-covered meadows were all about. Small, beautiful homes doted the hills. Birds sang. Butterflies fluttered. The sun radiated. I was deeply happy in a fine, mellow way. With each breath I took, I seemed to breath in a rich contentment that emanated throughout my being. I was very happy.

As I came over the rise, I saw that there was a structure that looked out of place. The houses that doted my landscape were curved, blending into the roundness of nature, made out of clay. This structure at the top of the hill was wooden, with sharp corners. It looked ancient. The wood was weathered and gray. It looked as if a gentle breeze could break it apart, as if nothing held each piece of wood to the next. The little building was small, a few feet wide, a few feet high, with a door to one side. Next to the door was a tiny, Asian man. He was gesturing to me, beckoning me to enter the portal.

I was drawn to the man, not the portal itself. I gave no thought to going through the door. I was so attracted by the little man's energy that I would have done anything he asked me to do. I thought that when I crossed the threshold, this man and I would still be together and I would find out something about him.

Once I crossed the threshold, however, the ancient man and his ancient, wooden doorway disappeared. I was in another lush, verdant landscape but one very different than the soft, rolling hills I had just left. I was near the top of a very high mountain, with a full range of gigantic mountains unfurling as far as my eye could see. These mountains were sharp and craggy, with patches of green. Some of the mountains were obscured from view by layers of mists hanging in the air. I could see clusters of homes dotting this landscape, too, giving me a sense that this world was alive with people.

I was disoriented. One moment, I had been walking in a familiar, soothing landscape and the next moment I was in another world. I turned back to ask the little Asian man why he was showing me this but that was when I learned that both he and the wooden portal were gone. There I was, on a new path, with nothing to do but go forward.

In this morning's dream