I rarely have dreams that are explicitly Pagan. Even the flying dreams that have so influenced my treatment of dreams in writing draw more heavily on pop culture than on my experience of witchcraft. Last night was a notable exception.
The dream was set in a place that closely resembled the Lawrence of my youth, except that all the buildings seemed larger (a common feature of my dreamscape) and the houses to either side of my parents were rotting. The trees that lined the streets were taller, too – wilder – and the woods through which the train tracks passed were wilder.
As always, the earliest parts of the dream are the vaguest. I don’t remember what initially drew my attention to the car in front of my parents’ house – just that I found a lion-headed woman therein. She seemed to appear and disappear, sometimes more lion-like, sometimes more wholly woman. She was tired, drunk, or sleeping, and there was a staff of some kind in the back seat beside her.
I somehow discerned that she belonged to the house next door, and took the staff to show to them. A woman and a child were on the front porch, and a man coming down to the road. They didn’t seem to trust or believe me, so I threw the staff to them. It became a pitchfork and stuck in their door near the child – which upset me, but didn’t seem to concern them.
Back in my parents’ house, other creatures were appearing, and I gathered a group of people – D, and a half-dozen others that I can’t remember – to go wandering. We found ourselves along the train tracks, where it was winter and calf-deep in snow. Over in the street, we spy a pair of blue rubber snow boots walking on their own – each one about six feet tall. I am convinced that there’s an invisible giant in them and that if I touch it I’ll be able to see it, so I climb up the stone wall and tackle-hug it. I’m right – it’s an invisible giant, we can all see her now, and she can’t decide whether she’s more amused or disturbed.
My group goes back to my parents rental – which, as I alluded before – is three stories tall instead of two, and falling apart. We are all convinced now that All The Rules Have Changed, so we start climbing out of windows, leaping from building to building, and walking across the roof of the rental. My father is seriously disturbed by these events – the roof-climbing in particular, he’s afraid of heights (true story) – and my grandfather is in denial; I’m not sure where my mother and sister are at, but my brother is one of the people on the roof.
The giantess is coming to visit, and I’m very excited. My grandfather is staying at the rental house, and one of his friends comes by. I’m frustrated because I know that they’re going to be rude to the giantess, and because of course he’s going to have a guest if I’m going to.
About that point, I start waking up. Although I continued the dream – or new dreams with similar themes – I cannot remember any of those in detail. One featured the lion-woman again. The two surviving Gorgons made an appearance in another.
For all that I’ve somewhat fallen off my ritual practice, dreams like this indicate to me that I can’t be as far astray as I sometimes feel.