I was in a bedroom which I shared with someone. It was very small.
At school, we were moving. It seemed we were in a school that went from kindergarden to Grade 12, and the high school students were moving to a high school only; no children. The move seemed complicated somehow and I have forgotten nearly all of it.
The last part of the dream is that we are not moving after all and are to stay with the young kids. In the play yard, children are playing ball and football. One football lands in an old woman’s lap. When I pick it up it is all deflated and looks like the eye of a needle. It’s still brown, as a football is. The ball had gone over some trees and I made it a point to move further back to pick it up, but the old woman did.
Back in the bedroom, this time I see two beds in an ell shape and I think, “Good, I can sleep in this bedroom instead of the one downstairs that has only one small, pitiful bed, more like a cot. But the girl I was sharing with said no, that we would get in each other’s way and not be able to sleep. I thought yes, we would tangle our feet. I was disappointed, but accepted the bed downstairs. The commode, on the other hand, was at the top of the stairs.
I saw this same girl, the one I was sharing the room with, talking with another woman. They were both painting watercolours. I remember her words to me as, “I am serious now about this.” She was painting, or had painted, the face of a woman with dark blue hair. On her cheeks were large tears. What made the painting beautiful was that behind the crying woman were many, many faces of women, all of them different. It seemed to me that this woman was crying for them, for they had suffered much.
I woke up thinking I would incarnate again.