More strange dreams.
Dream: Kiera
I was in a dark basement room with my friend from high school. There was a tiny bit of light and she was standing in it. I said, “Stay there. I want to take your picture.” She looked up and I aimed my camera. A little boy who was drawn like a cartoon character stood beside her. I looked beyond the camera lens and he was gone. I aimed again and he returned. Again and again he kept photo bombing the shot. Eventually, though, I got the photo without him in it. I told my friend about it, shocked, describing what he looked like. I said, “I think he may have been your future child.”
We went to bed and when I awoke I was alone. I noticed on the walls were pictures in sequence of a fundraising event from when my friend and I were in school. Kids of various ages each took turns sitting in a wooden chair in a field. Their friends were around them cheering and applauding.
Above the display were words describing why the photos were there. It said something about displaying creativity instead of keeping it hidden. Toward the bottom were photos with me. I was hiding in most of them with my younger sister trying to get me to participate. She was smiling and having a good time. In several of the last photos loads of cash was being thrown over my head. I didn’t look amused but I did pose for pictures.
I decided to leave the basement and explore my surroundings. The next thing I recall is being in a hotel lobby. A man came up to reception saying he had way too much alcohol left and he was leaving that morning. He asked if he could give it away. They agreed and he brought bags full of alcohol to the table – unopened six-packs of beer, opened wine and liquor containers, etc. People came up to take the free alcohol. I drifted closer, curious, and the man asked me if I wanted some. I declined.
There was one small, yellow bottle that didn’t look like alcohol. The name suggested it was an arousal tonic for men. I mentioned it to the man and he confirmed what it was for. I said, “Kinky. Sounds like you were having fun.” He said, “We were neighbors.” He motioned to the hotel and said something about shared space, specifically restrooms. That was when I realized I was not there alone and the hotel was being used as a convention space for a gathering.
In his words I also recognized a light-hearted invitation. He looked kind of like Sting (the older version) and I was not interested. I am sure I blushed, though, and told him no thank you.
The man then dumped wads of cash onto the table. There were several woman there who eagerly grabbed it up. I said, “I want some.” One woman looked at me as if I had just threatened to kill her. She pulled a stack of bills closer to her and said I couldn’t because I didn’t take any alcohol. I said, “I don’t want/need that,” motioning at the bottles, “but I do need the money.” The others at the table looked at her with intent, their eyes saying, “Don’t be so greedy.” The woman handed me a wad of bills. On the top was a $100 bill and on the other side a $10 bill. In between were stacks of $5’s.
I walked away with my wad of money (success, prosperity), staring at it. Then I opened a door in the wall. Inside was a narrow staircase leading up. I followed it, momentarily worried someone might rob me but then realized I didn’t have that much money and didn’t care.
The stairs opened up into a large space filled with mattresses, blankets and various sleeping spots spread out on the floor. There was no space to walk so I had to walk over the beds. The feeling the room gave me was positive, filled with a sense of connection. It dawned on me that I must’ve been sleeping in this space with all the others. I would never do something like that because, 1. I don’t like being in crowded places with lots of people and 2. I can’t sleep even with one other person in the room with me.
I looked for my sleeping space but didn’t see it. So I headed to a clearing seeking a place to sit. I found a small sitting space near a large picture window. A woman greeted me warmly by name, calling me “Kiera”, and came to sit with me (Kiera = wealth, prosperity). I remember thinking the name was not quite right but liking it. I could get use to the name.
Before I sat down, though, another woman came up outstretching her hand toward me. She said, “Keira! I made something for you!” She called by a name I can’t recall but in her hands were two, knitted slippers. She said, “I also want to buy you lunch for a week to thank you for all you’ve done.” The outpouring of love and acceptance from her was so great I immediately burst into tears and hugged her tight. I remember thinking how nice it was to finally feel like I belonged.
Considerations
I woke up still crying. The tears were tears of joy and relief at the belonging I felt. Never in my life have I felt so accepted and loved. My entire life I have felt out of place. People regard me with suspicion and keep their distance. They pretend to accept me but they never really do. They always keep me at arms length, just in case I turn out to be “dangerous” to them. Most don’t know they are doing it, it is just their automatic reaction to my odd aura and I know now that my Projector aura is to blame. It dives deep into their aura and takes every part of them in. That is uncomfortable and scary to anyone who is a Generator and probably Manifestors, too.
When I woke I thought, “This must be how most other people feel their whole life.” This is when something occurred to me. I read somewhere that our purpose in life is directly linked to our greatest wound. It very likely that my purpose is linked to groups and being in/part of a group. Ugh!
If I am meant to work with groups then I will most definitely have to come out of my hermit hole and confront my greatest discomfort – groups of people and the inevitable rejection that comes with them. The odds are stacked against me. Funny thing is, in my youth I sought out groups, trying desperately to be included. Over time it became clear that people didn’t want me around and after many failed attempts, I decided I don’t want or need any of them. The repeated rejection is just not worth it. This is the Not-Self bitterness of being a Projector.
Yet within me is a “natural” teacher, public speaker and performer. I feel the most successful when I do these things.
Music Message
As I lingered in bed, trying to return to sleep, a message slowly emerged in my mind. The words, “Say it loud……” I tried to grab onto the words and eventually more emerged: “Say it clear…..” There was no melody, just words. They were very faint and it took all my attention to get all of them. Out of the haze of sleep came the melody: “Say it loud. Say it clear. You can listen as well as you hear. It’s too late, when we die, to admit we don’t see eye to eye.”
The song didn’t seem to go along with my dream at all. Instead it seemed to be an answer to a question I asked a couple of nights ago.
My sister (the one in jail), sent me a request to sign up to send and receive emails/texts. My mom told me that she gave my sister $10 to send emails and told me it costs 50 cents each time. My mom has been communicating with her this way. My guess is my mom gave her my phone number. I haven’t signed up, though. I just don’t want to be involved with her drama. My husband is urging me to do it. I asked my guides to help me decide. I think the song is suggesting I do it.
If I think of the song’s message it is asking that I consider how I might feel if my sister passes from this world. I’ve always considered that death is not the end and that anything I may want to communicate I can regardless of whether the other person is living or dead. I think I’ve used this as an excuse to not communicate with my sister. She is not herself and when we talk I feel like she is not fully there. I get such an “off” feeling when we talk. I don’t like how it makes me feel.
However, it is clear, for many reasons, that she will leave this world before I do. Whether sooner or later, it is hard to know.
Living Life in Between 