01:43 - 29.02.08
Rise Up
When I was checking out my favourite astrologer's current scopes last night, I decided to visit some of the hyperlinks he includes within the text for our education, enlightenment or entertainment; sometimes all three goals being fulfilled at once. When I clicked on one of those youtube links placed in my own sun sign prognostication, I was greeted with the information that that video was not available in my country. "Here all this time I thought I lived in Canada, not Pakistan". I grumbled in the email I sent to my friendly astrologer, asking to be apprised of the subject matter that our country's censors found so threatening or offensive. At the very least, I expected to hear it was that trailer for the movie that caused someone in Pakistan (hence my earlier comment in that e-mail) to knock out service to the rest of the world for a few hours the past weekend in their eagerness to ensure no one in their country saw something they deemed profane. Au contraire. The response came back quickly that the offending link was to the song "West End Girls" by the Pet Shop Boys. Alrighty then. When I logged into youtube directly tonight, I found that I could find a version of the original band performing that song. However, when I returned to my favourite astrologer's site and tried that link again, I still received the error message about that video not being available in Canada. I am totally confused now. Maybe today's "virtual day", February 29th, found only every calendar leap year, will provide the solution to an unanswerable question in the powerful parallel reality that is encompassed in it's frame of reference. I'm guessing it has something to do with copyright licences, but that is so mundane and boring.
I've had a series of, what seem to be, interconnected dreams the past week. Yesterday they culminated into a story where I was the governess/nanny for a gentleman of a lawyerly persuasion. He appeared to have about four children, but the wife was not visible within the time I was helping out. He had given me an unusual set of mathematical calculations that I was directed to use to create a star map, complete with a gridded sky. The dream "me" kept thinking that the mathematical calculations weren't necessary, because the patterns that were emerging were predictable and repeating, seemingly infinitely. However, at certain points in the calculations, some of the plotted stars on the parchment would suddenly become multi-dimensional and emit their own light. There was one star in particular that would frequently glow a brilliant ruby red. It seemed to be the focus for the exercise and it seemed to me that the purpose was to create an intergalactic bridge that would allow for travel between our earthly domain and that star's.
Among the gentleman's children was a child who was an infant when I first began working for him. All of a sudden I looked down at that child, seeing him at the age of three. Now his head changed into the shape often portrayed for extraterrestrial aliens - that elongated oval. I realize the chart was being made for that child's journey to the star in question. As I ran the calculations again, that child's head changed again, becoming that of a child being treated for cancer. The hair all lost to the rigours of the chemo and radiation therapies. He was slipping away quickly, as I finished the final round of those mathematical calculations and plotted that last point in the intergalactic grid/chart that was now pulsing with it's own inner life; becoming multi-dimensional as I watched. That star flashed powerfully red again, engulfing the bedroom where we sat - me holding him in my arms like a baby - as it did so. As the radiance diminished, the gentleman and the other children, the boy's siblings, filled the room. The dying child was held in my and his family's embrace all together. He said, very clearly, "I want to go home" and somehow slipped into that other dimension. The rest of us clinging together for strength and comfort. Owww that hurt, but the joy that the departed child was experiencing was palpable in that room and among us too. There is a lot more to that experience, but it is blocked from my conciousness at the moment, although my Mom feels it is urgent that I recall it. I seemed to recognize that child's voice and yet not, so a guess is that there is a family connection I have yet to make. I keep hearing the ballet master's voice - one of the people who interviewed me last year - insisting that a certain suite of classical pieces need to be played at this point in time. There is that link to youtube again but the music is definitely not from the Petshop Boys. Sounds more like Bach. Bach to the Future. Never mind.
Today I looked after my youngest grandson while his parents were at work. That meant rolling out of bed at 5:30 in the am to the sound of a song by Fleetwood Mac. The announcer coming on at the end of the song telling commuters that the predicted snow had arrived and in greater quantities - he thought - than predicted. Something about his tone warning that the morning's journey might be an adventure. We were predicted to get a light skiff of snow - yuh huh. Heavy, wet, clingy flakes drifting down in a surreal landscape of fog and ice, it was. Steppd off my sidewalk and promptly found myself on hands and knees. The ice completely hidden under several inches of snow being so slick that even the deep rubber treads on my walking boots couldn't find purchase. Great.
Reached the bus stop in good time, even after gingerly mincing along trying not to fall on ice I couldn't see or anticipate either. The bus driver arrived a bit late and stopped in the middle of the road, rather than coming up to the curb. It seemed to me that she was worried that the same ice might cause the bus to skid uncontrollably with the danger of trapping those of us waiting for it between the vehicle and the bus shelter. The other passengers both on and waiting for the bus were grumbling at the driver's lack of aggressiveness driving on the ice. For myself I was recalling a few incidents at the hospital where I had worked long ago when other waiting bus passengers were crushed when vehicles attempting to pick them up in similar conditions skidded into their bus shelter. Some of those people didn't survive the initial impact. I was very grateful for her extra caution. We did watch the train we should have caught leave the station without us, but at least we were all in one piece. Still arrived downtown in good time. I walked through one of the high rise office buildings where I had had several of my downtown consulting contracts over the past decade. It felt as though the building was embracing and welcoming me back. Maybe that's a sign. Walked outside and down one block to catch the bus that would take me the balance of my journey. All the windows were completely fogged up, so that it was difficult to tell where in the city we were travelling. Could have been Timbuktu for all I knew. When I felt we were close to my stop, I edged up to the front of the bus the better to see what lay ahead. Walking to my son's home again, trying gingerly to make up for lost time while not coming crashing down on hidden ice on the sidewalks. Followed a woman delivering the morning papers. Following in her steps meant less guess work and stress with respect to ice detection. Arrived at my son's door at exactly 8 am. The sun was fully risen by that time. Yay.
My grandson was really experiencing a lot of pain from his teething. Affected all his bodily functions - yes it did. He was quite fussy and cried off and on without even realizing he was doing it, I think. Poor little guy. Tried to distract him with movies (Finding Nemo, The Three Musketeers, Aladdin, and Lady and the Tramp), children's shows and reading aloud from that Harry Potter book - we reached all the way to Daigon Alley. Finally gave him a bit of tylenol when he refused to eat supper because his mouth was just too sore. He didn't want me to feed him because his gums were so tender, so I just let him do it himself. Pasta sauce everywhere by the end of the exercise. I'm not certain how much he actually got in his mouth, but he seemed much happier. Could have been because it was his first time watching Aladdin, too. He was absolutely fascinated with Genie, Abu and Aladdin, so that might have helped distract him from the pain caused by chewing his food too. His Mom arrived home around 6:20 in the pm so I headed out the door immediately so that I would still have daylight for the walk back to that bus stop. Arrived home at 8:15 pm. I'm beat dear diary so good night for now.
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