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Author Topic: The writing desk  (Read 3245 times)


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The writing desk
« on: March 05, 2016, 01:41:52 PM »
Police are encouraging me to trust them and talk, I feel a mix of hope, and fear that they are not trustworthy and fooling me..a man present among them I've met in real life and I suspect to be particularly untrustworthy (though in my dream last night he was also present and trying to help me) I go home, on the sheet of my bed I see an ant, I brush it off, then another and another, an infestation of flying ants..I feel panic and disgust, I wake.

I am in another house, also my bedroom, my bedroom has been filled with junk ('just for now'..no permission asked, by my sister). I feel invaded and powerless. Suddenly in the middle of the room a huge highly ornate carved (dark wood close to black in tone) antique writing desk appears, it's quite over-the-top but still pretty, with loads of tiny drawers and nooks. On the first level a small piano keyboard is embedded to the right, about 1-2 octaves, that lifts up to a large writing area.. There may be a connection to a little girl. There is a sense of magic at its appearance.

I hear noise and look out, an extension is being built on a house across the road, again I feel exasperated, invaded, at the mercy of others and I just long for peace and quite.

Now I am outside with others, someone is pushing a silver/steel metal chair on wheels. Then it turns out I've won Miss Universe, though I'm just dressed as normal me and in no way glamorous. Apparently the chair is for the winner. So I sit in it and then go flying at incredible speed downhill, but never out of control. I smile shyly, as others watch me pass, even though I know I'm not pretty I am happy to accept this and make the most of it.

 (The night before I dreamt I was holding my own face in my hands, but as if I was someone else. I was looking at this face, thinking how raw, fragile, utterly imperfect it was, its vulnerability struck me deeply, but that there was no choice..this was it..this raw red face was mine and I'd better get on with it. I don't know why it was red, maybe echoing a newborn baby..)
« Last Edit: March 05, 2016, 06:24:14 PM by Omega »

Tony Crisp

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Re: The writing desk
« Reply #1 on: March 06, 2016, 11:57:52 AM »
Omega – You are meeting the rough track. Untrusting (It is wise to only trust yourself, not your fears,
or hopes, or longings but the result of self-observation and discrimination.) See http://dreamhawk.com/dream-encyclopedia/self-observation/

Also feeling panic and disgust from ants, which may reflect many tiny irritations and worries; exasperation; a raw, fragile, utterly imperfect, and vulnerable face.

There a couple of balancing feelings – the little girl who brings a sense of magic, and the acceptance the you are Miss Universe. You ARE Miss Universe because we are born with the whole cosmos, the heavens inside us, and so have an amazing potential. That is the meaning of the star appearing at the birth of Jesus - the heavens were there in all of us. But few of us realise that and so make no move to reach for it. If we do we can move away from the enormous sense of imperfection. Maybe becoming not shining spiritual beings, but lovely ordinary humans who are manifestations of extraordinary Life.

None of us exist without the influence of stars. Our Sun is a star and without its influence we would not have appeared. And that is a massive influence – what about the subtler ones? And the little girl is you showing you some of your potentials. Explore them…..