Struggling a bit over here this morning. It’s not too bad, I’ve been far worse, but there is some struggle nonetheless.

I have a tendency to wall myself off from emotion; to harden to it and become angry. I take on an “I’ll show you!” mentality and perceive the person hurting me as doing it “purposefully” with “intent to harm”. Astrologically, it’s a typical negative Leonine trait, but it is also a Scorpio trait (ha!) and I am very familiar with it being the daughter of a double Scorpio. My Dad did not handle emotion well and was known to inflict some major revenge upon those who hurt him. I saw it firsthand and maybe I learned a bit too much from him in the process. OR maybe we Fire and Water signs, specifically Leo and Scorpio, have more in common than I realized?

Last night I knew nothing much was going to happen despite all the build-up from my guidance about the 26th/27th of October being significant in some way. To this I reacted with an, “Whatever. I don’t care anyway.” This was the first sign that something was up. I know the dream I had at the Akashic library was showing me that I had access to all I wanted/needed to know. I also know that I was too upset and homesick to take advantage of that. This, of course, made me angry at myself which I quickly adjusted and aimed at my guidance since they are easy targets.

On top of all this brewing of emotion, the entire right side of my neck is stiff and pain shoots down my shoulder and up into my head when I move. It seems to be getting worse rather than better and this morning I have a lovely headache from it. Additionally, I get to enjoy that time of the month four days early courtesy of the full moon and peri-menopause (I guess). So, yeah, I’m a bit grumpy this morning to say the least.

Dream: Mole Ant

Lots of dreams but most lost or insignificant. This one is odd, though, so I thought I would share.

I was inside a large house or mansion inside a bedroom (private self) with very nice furnishings and bedding. A tiny, black spider (manifestation) ran across the bed and I followed it, excited to see another one. I continue to see spiders in my waking life and this carried over into my dreams.

Then, I saw an odd looking insect scamper across the bed and decided to take a close look, bringing my phone with me. It looked odd. It had a scaly, gold armored back and had tiny legs underneath similar to a centipede but much brighter gold and the scales were like that of a snake. When I got close enough to it, I saw it had a strange looking face with white mandibles and red eyes. It looked like an angry clown face.

I took several shots of it with my camera, zooming in and seeing it up close. It was the oddest looking creature. I called it a “mole ant” but not sure who I was talking to when I said it. Mole = destruction, delving deep into subconscious. Ant = work, dissatisfaction with life.

At one point it got caught up in a spider’s web and I saw it had legs or something similar spread out over it’s head as if in a display. It freed itself and ran away. I followed.

I found the creature sitting on the stairs, its abdomen seemingly attached on one end and the other end poking up with a display over it. It looked orange at this point and resembled some kind of sea creature from behind. I saw my coworker and told her to be careful. She walked right past, her long, black dress skirting the edge of the insect. I remember wondering why she was so dressed up and concluding I must be at some kind of gala.

I zoomed in on the creature, fascinated, but the image through my lens was wavering and distorting as if I was looking through water. As I snapped photos, between each one the image would shift. The creature turned toward me in one. In another a large black dog (protection) was next to it, it’s head taking up most of the screen. In another there was also a white cat (feminine) between the dog and the mole ant thingy. It was the oddest thing but the most memorable was the clown face of the insect – ant, mole, spider or whatever it was. I remember thinking, “This is a dream. These photos are meant to help me remember”, but I didn’t become lucid, I just kept snapping photos, intent on my recall.

Dream: Goodbye’s are the Hardest

I woke form this dream very disappointed and thinking that I had been right, nothing significant was on the horizon. I was angry and resentful and resistant.

Somehow I returned to sleep. I was sitting in the back seat of a car with two other people. I was in the seat behind the driver’s seat. In my hand was a piece of paper and I was writing a story on it. I can’t recall the story now but I was erasing misspelled words and editing it.

I was talking to the person in the other seat (I think it was my husband but am unsure) and a familiar voice on my left interrupted me. I realized I was on the phone with my MIL. I said to her,”Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t know I called you. It must have been on accident. How long have you been on the line?” She said, “It’s okay. I don’t mind. Just a few hours.” lol I looked down at the paper I was writing on and continued to write. It was a story and I was reading aloud.

A man was to my right, seeming to appear out of nowhere. His energy was familiar. He seemed to be attending to me and very interested in me and my situation/case/story. I turned to him chatting away about my story. I remember his face was very pleasant and clean shaved. He was young, maybe late twenties, early thirties. His skin was light and his eyes intent with a glimmer in them, as if he was watching his own child discovering something new. There was also a magnetism there, but it was slight. The connection was familiar but I didn’t dwell on it. However, I did wonder about his intentions.

He was asking me about my story and I was telling him about it as I edited it. When I finished, I signed my name on the bottom. In my mind I was “saving” a file but there was no computer and when it was “saved” I looked it over, showing it to the man. I turned it over and saw that the entire back was covered in what at first appeared to be the English alphabet written in a child’s handwriting. I said to the man, “My daughter must have been practicing.” The letters, however, all looked like misshaped “S’s”, some sideways, others with lines through them, and still others even more changed. In inspecting my memories now, I think it may have been Light Language, not an alphabet at all.

There was a short discussion here about my daughter drawing inappropriate pictures showing sexual things. The man actually started it by saying, “I can help you with that.” Then I saw a flash of the inappropriate pictures, only they were of my own drawings. I said, “Nah. When I was little I use to draw pictures like that, too. Eventually, I got in trouble at school and had to go to the principal’s office. She will learn like I did.” He said, “But is a visit to the principal’s even necessary?” With this came a sense that the “principal’s” office could be too traumatic. I felt it was not an issue.

I looked down at my finished piece and saw the title was in Spanish. Surprised, I said, “Why is it written in Spanish! Did I do that!?” Then I realized it was not, that the words shifted back, and said, “Oh good. It’s not.” I laughed at myself and the man just listened, silently supportive. The crazy thing was, I could read/understand it in Spanish.

Then we were outside the car in a parking lot going into some store. My mom was with me on my left, the man on my right. We encountered an older woman and a younger woman. I recognized the older woman to be my grandmother’s sister. I went up to her and wrapped my arms around her, giving her a huge hug and lifting her off the ground as I did so. My great-aunt was shocked and so was the young woman. I smiled and explained how happy I was to see them. They were silent, jaws open in disbelief. I knew they didn’t understand but I didn’t care. I turned to the young woman and said, “Hug her while you still have her to hug. You never know when you won’t get to hug her anymore. I miss hugs the most now that she’s (my grandmother) gone.”

The young woman got teary eyed as did my great-aunt. I could feel the emotion from them as they realized the very real fact that one day they would not have each other to hug anymore. I turned back toward my great-aunt and scooped her up in a big hug. The young woman turned to another lady who was approaching. I realized it was her mother. She was telling her mom what I had just said. They both got teary eyed, missing my grandmother with me.

I remember looking at their tears and feeling my own well up within. The man to my right said, “Goodbyes are the hardest.” I could feel the sympathy and love from him. I could also feel my own grief building. Then it overflowed, my heart aching as I tried to come to terms with my grief. It didn’t make sense. I didn’t miss my grandmother like that.

Still Grieving

As I woke the tears were still flowing. My guide was with me as I tried to sort out the sorrow I was feeling. He said, “You still miss him.” I didn’t argue, just acknowledged. I realized that I had been angry and resentful because I still hurt so much, still grieved. It felt like he died, like a part of me died, but he was very much still around and contactable. It felt wrong and I concluded that the part that died was not the part that still remained. Yet they were. It felt right but how, I’m not sure. Perhaps the part that died was a creation of mine built from memories and experiences not of this life?

The emotion lingered as my guide remained with me, encouraging me to allow the emotion. I felt angry and resistant all over again. I saw my future as nothing but repetition in an endless loop. I saw no possibility of happiness or real love/connection. I had the mindset of, “If I can’t have what I want, then I don’t want any of it.”

I felt my guide’s energy and for a moment it was as if I was back in that car, him sitting on my right. I could feel his energy inviting me to surrender. He said to me, “Forgive…” I saw a flash of his face and saw the love in his eyes. At first I thought he said, “Forgive me.” But then I realized he meant forgive in general. But my response to this was not knowing how. It seemed that to do so would erase it all and I would have nothing left to hold onto.

In considering it all now, I am unsure of my ability to do what I am being asked. I understand that progress cannot be made until I do. It feels like I’ve already done this, though, so I don’t understand why it is back.

The message, Goodbye’s are the hardest, remains with me even now as does what I said in my dream about hugs. There’s something about not being able to hug the one you love, to just be close and linger there. We should all take the time to hug the people we love a little more because you never know when you won’t be able to anymore.

As for the brief discussion about sexual pictures being drawn, I really did use to draw pictures like that when I was really little. My mom even took me to a child psychologist because of it. I was diagnosed as emotionally disturbed with no indication that I had ever been molested (which I haven’t to my knowledge). When I was 10 I was sent to the principal’s because of one of my drawings. lol Of course, I never drew anything like that again and I was mad at the girl who told on me, not at all ashamed or feeling I did anything wrong.

My best guess about that part of the dream is that my guide is addressing the very real sexual feelings I have been having since the Kundalini rose in intensity. He wants to help me channel the energy. I don’t see anything wrong with enjoying the sexual aspect, thus my response in my dream. He suggests that a visit to the “principal” would not be a good thing. LOL Yeah, probably not. I should probably work on that.