11 Months Later


I went to bed with the intention of having a revelatory dream, and I had one last night.

I don’t remember all of it, but I remember that Rick came back from the dead, and suddenly, I was forced to make room for him in mine. In the past year, I have had dreams/nightmares recently where I’m somehow re-married to my ex-husband and thus compelled to sacrifice so much of my life again to attempt to make that marriage work, knowing full well I don’t want it to work, that I want out, and that it’s not fair that he could somehow remarry me without my knowledge or permission, and if he can do that, then how can I ever truly get out of this marriage and move on? And the weird thing is that I would have these dreams out of the blue when I had pretty much forgotten in my waking life that I had ever been married before.

But this dream didn’t come with the same disappointment and helplessness that the remarriage dreams came with. For this dream, the mood was more like “okay, how do I get him moved on?” but then he died again in some mysterious way — he just disappeared. It was as if he reanimated just to let me know he’s still here, and oh: here’s a bunch of his shit he moved into your apartment and left there, and now you have to get rid of it.

This included a closet full of summer clothes, mostly his clothes, like white linen pants and Hawaiian shirts. The closet was in my parents’ house. They were all perfectly pressed and hung, but as I went through each one, I noticed that they were covered in dried eggs, like someone had thrown eggs at them. The deeper I went through his clothes, the more they were covered in dried up egg. I was wondering why he would go through the business of dry cleaning, pressing, starching, and hanging these clothes if they covered in egg and never worn again. I decided to throw them away.

But in that closet was a tiny area of summer clothes that were apparently mine that I never wore, clothes that looked like giant children’s clothes.

I was proud of the fact that I got the closet mostly empty until I was talking to a colleague who then said to me “well, if you don’t need any of this, why don’t you just get rid of all of it? I mean, you’re never going to wear these clothes, right?”

In the dream, I harkened a real life conversation I had with someone after he had died the first time. This person was lamenting the fact that due to the pandemic, I had to throw out so much of his stuff. I couldn’t seem to convince this person that 1) in big cities, nothing left out in a dumpster in plain sight need be discarded forever, especially in a neighborhood like mine, and 2) I wasn’t going to get a storage unit to hold onto this stuff until the charities were open again for donations, nor was I going to move all this shit to my new apartment and live like a hoarder on top of all this crap. It bothered me then that this person seemed to be so concerned about the shit he left behind, to the point where his possessions were more important than my well-being. While I could have consigned some of it, no one was taking it, and money down the drain was nothing compared to time and mental health down the drain. And frankly, I had had enough of having to take care of all his precious possessions anyway. Sure, someone could have used that rug, and that’s why I left it out in plain site when I dragged it outside into the magical place we call alleys here in Chicago.

But in this dream, it also meant getting rid of these frilly summer clothes of mine, too, and I had to ask myself why I was holding onto them because no, I would never wear them. Really: I would never, ever wear a pinafore for any reason.

Then, in the dream, I was in my childhood home. In the dream, there was a red tow truck in the driveway in the back part in front of the garage. The bottom of the L-shaped driveway has featured in a lot of my dreams, and in these dreams, it’s always surrounded by these strange and fantastic fruit and flowering trees. In this dream, I was looking out a window at these trees with giant orange blossoms that I identified as giant persimmon blossoms. That’s not what persimmon blossoms look like in real life, but that’s what I thought they were, all creating a canopy over the red tow truck that somehow was getting bigger and bigger, with different pieces added to it. By the time I got downstairs and into the driveway, this vehicle had a full on white school bus attached to the back and the bow of a tugboat in the front. And I saw that there was some damage to the vehicle, including bullet holes, and being angry that I so much had never gotten a scratch on the tugboat and wasn’t even allowed to drive it anymore because of the fear that I would damage it, and there my father was, backing it up down the driveway, no mention of the damage to the vehicle. He was intoxicated, still drinking, scowling at me in silence as he let the vehicle go backward toward the house without even looking where he was going.

And that’s when I remembered, of all things, that my name is not on the title of the family tow truck/tug boat/school bus, this isn’t my house, Rick is dead, those aren’t my clothes in the closet, so I should go throw it all away.

So I went upstairs and threw it all away. I then began to pack my bags and go back to Chicago, I believe. During the packing, I had an uncontested hearing and was praised afterward for not letting Rick’s re-death get in the way of my work.

During this time, when I was doing the hearing and packing my bags, someone else died, a man I do not know but was somehow attached to in the present. I wasn’t made responsible for any part of it. His soul went into a word processing program on my computer. I think this man is a man I have dreamed about before, someone I see but don’t interact with.

I packed up the computer, took my bags, and walked out the front door of my family home without saying goodbye. It was a nice spring day, and I thought if it was spring there, it must be spring back in Chicago.

And then I woke up with the firm conviction that I really have to stop talking about Rick as if he exists. I don’t need to tell people about his death as circumstance that happened to me or explains why my life is as it is now. I don’t want pity, but I don’t want to be defined by a situation I don’t even live in anymore. He’s gone. His things are gone, and he had his shot to do with his life as he wished, and he made poor decisions, and now he gets to make no more decisions. He gets to have no more wishes. This also means he doesn’t get to be my boyfriend anymore, former or ex- or departed.

And that means getting rid of those oversized children’s clothes that I never got to wear, too.

Almost a year? Yes.

I learned a few things in the past 11 months.

On my own, I’ve rediscovered the mutable, easygoing side of me that hasn’t had much room to express herself in this adulthood up until now.

I learned that my flexibility is resiliency, and that is a gift. In a world that confuses rigidity with resiliency, it’s nice to know that being able to bend with the breeze still has utility.

I learned that there is actually a point to forgiveness, in that forgiving the penitent gives them incentive to change.

I learned that the person I actually am is the person I am when I’m all by myself. I like that person.

I learned that I like being soft and sensitive again, and I’m looking forward to using this time to further explore my spirituality.

I learned that I still really enjoy helping people, and that one of the reasons I need astrology isn’t because I need to know whatever it will tell me, but rather that I need to help people, and that’s not weird or wrong or throwing a blanket on any personal ambition.

I learned that I am actually an incredibly fortunate person. I have a lot of the things I actually want.

I learned something very specific about manifestation/magick and intent, and even my little experiments are working.


I’ve had a lot of interesting dreams in the past few months. I had a dream where I saw my grandfather depart the discarnate realm and reincarnate far from the family, and even though I wasn’t supposed to see that, he wanted me to see that. He’s not coming back to this karmic circle, and that’s fine. He had been dead for 24 years, and my guess was that he was ready, and no, he won’t be my son this time. Or my nephew. Or my grandson even.

I dreamed about a strange plane ride to a far-flung island made of either glass or sugar, a place where people were both very welcoming and very hostile to visitors. The man in last night’s dream was in that dream, in the distance by a pond or stream, with a bunch of people I didn’t know but knew I would eventually come to know. They were expecting me to show up, but didn’t know I had arrived. I wasn’t ready to see them, though, so I waited at this outdoor tea party for the right time to come. Then I woke up.

And I recently had a dream with the same man who was part of a gang of young men who were kidnapping and torturing people for fun. And then in that dream, I was suddenly back in time, a murder victim in a series of events that appears to closely follow an actual murder from my hometown that happened before I was even two years old.

For those of you who may be interested, here’s the chart for around the time the death was supposed to have occurred, with a few choice asteroids added:


I’ve been seeing a black squirrel lately, and I believe it lives in a tree next door. It was around both days I was trying to get my car out of the snow, and I always see it once a day at least, whether it’s on my stroll to Mariano’s or from my window as I work. Is that a negative omen? Does my new neighbor exist to tell me to prepare for the worst, or perhaps to go into the shadows in preparation for what is to come?

Because sometimes I wonder if animals have superstitions and beliefs about us and what they could possibly be, because try as I might, I still can’t imagine an entire life with humans just existing on the periphery even though they’re all around me. I suppose that’s why I can never work for Disney. For example, do squirrels think that summer will come early if they encounter a redhead, or do they think it’s a symbol of abundance and riches to run into a very tall person? Perhaps if they see an unattended human child, they think it’s symbolic of the universe telling them to get in touch with their own playful, carefree side?

After all, what one animal seems both immensely playful AND completely drowning in anxiety if not the squirrel?

Mars in Gemini

Mars just entered Gemini a couple days ago, and while this isn’t Mars’s favorite placement either, it’s certainly an easier energy to deal with in a time when limiting physical contact is prudent. I’m hoping this is some good energy for distributing the vaccine through communities. As I’ve recently learned, I may get moved up to Tier 1b, maybe, hopefully, and I’m looking forward to getting it done. I have gotten every vaccine I’m eligible for. I even got the MMR vaccine again at 35 because I couldn’t find my old immunization records to submit to my law school. I get a flu shot each year now for everyone else’s sake, as every person with an overactive immune system should.

Mars in Gemini is making it easier to go with the flow. That’s actually something I just simply have to do now. For example, I wanted to make a bunch of phone calls and perhaps schedule a video chat this afternoon, but as it turns out, the building next door is getting air duct cleaning, which is noisy enough to make me have to switch gears to just reading discovery instead. Due to the size of my apartment, the fact that it would be even louder if I tried to work in my car, I don’t have a lot of options but to switch gears. The good news? I actually could switch gears today.

This is a good time to start bending with the flow of information, to reach out to people, to join the land of the living once again. I don’t even really think about what happened 11 months ago unless I have to explain something, like my car, or if someone else brings it up. However, those people are fewer and fewer these days, though I do wonder, should I want to try again in the future, how I might explain this. I suppose it would come along the lines of “so, what did you do during the pandemic?”

Also, Mars in Gemini: road trips, Mind Trips

And my car is once again in good working order, and we just got the orders from work on what to do if we travel out of state by car, but I may not even go that far, though I’m itching to go somewhere.

And I do, in my mind, at night, after work. I do that more often now. There’s a lot of peace here; the water has seeped into the hole, and there’s a wellspring of quiet here at night that my mind no longer feels the need to occupy with various distractions. I meditate. I write. I lay down and think about things, like channeling pure, unadulterated intent. It works, you know: sometimes you get the little things you truly want. For example, out of the blue, I really wanted a bottle of wine one night last week. It’s probably been well over a year since I’ve had any alcohol to drink, and in the passing moments that I think it would be nice, it’s not enough to motivate me to get up and go to the store. However, a few nights ago, I really wished I could have a glass of wine.

The next day, I was gifted a bottle of wine from an unexpected giver.

I’m thinking I need to work with this some more.

Because even though I know there may be other lifetimes, I still believe that this one right now is all one really needs to become whatever they want to be, because all we need to do that is inside us right now. We may be choosing to live in one distinct reality or another right now, but we’re all still capable of becoming whatever we choose.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s