Earlier this week, I dreamt I was a mercenary and I had captured some kind of cockaroch-type creature. I needed to use him to free a whole lot of people who were suffering… some kind of exchange.
I had the creature captured and was waiting for someone to come and contact me about when and where the exchange was going to go down.
The police broke in, and captured me and the cockaroach creature, but couldn’t make sense of who was the innocent party and who was guilty.
I was staying in a house boat that was dry docked on the edge of a kind of cliff, not too high up.
So while the police were arguing between themselves I grabbed the cockaroach creature and dove off the end of the boat and down into the lagoon below.
The dream flashes forward…
I walked into a courtyard… and in the courtyard there were a couple hundred people standing around. Men women, old people and children. When they saw me, some waved, some hugged me, some smiled.
Then the doors of a giant hallway were thrown open and all of us were called inside.
Inside there were round tables and place settings for a meal.
My father and another woman (I didn’t know her, at least I think I didn’t) were sitting at a table, and I stood up off to one side, while the crowd of people took their seats.
One by one their names were called and they came up to my father who gave them a box of food each and a box of the finest luxurious items as a gift.
Eventually they all had food and their gift, and I was feeling a little left out.
So I went and asked my father, “Daddy, if everyone’s gotten their due, is there anything left over for me?”
He and the woman smiled and he said, “You? Everybody here gets something, and our little hero gets nothing?”
Then he pulled out a box twice the size of the gifts the others had received and said, “We planned something special for you.”
Inside were some of the most beautiful things, some of everything I love, perfume, toiletries, jewellery, and beautiful mirror, scarves, all kinds of things.
Then I woke up.
Yesterday I fell asleep during the afternoon and dreamt I was with my father.
He is a drummer for Orisa and does work for Orisa. I did not grow up with him, but came to Orisa much later and in a way that didn’t include him for the most part.
We have had difficulties me and my father, but before I left Trinidad he and I made great peace, and we did spiritual work together and we installed a shrine for Egun in our famiy’s ancestral home, the first one in that house EVER.
Anyway, in this dream, he and I were together… we went to visit someone I don’t know, and as we were sitting there I began to sing this song for Orisa (One I didn’t even remember until this dream):
Sugaragbo Mojuba, Ay ya Ay ya
Sugaragbo Mojuba, Ay ya Ay ya
Then my father took up his drum and began to beat….
Soon everyone who was there was singing.
The room was suffused with a kind of golden light, from kerosene lamps and candles, and we were sitting on mats, wooden carved chairs and such.
I think we were in a marketplace of some kind, because it reminds me of the People’s Mall in Trinidad, which is made of little shacks and stalls, with narrow alleyways between them. Almost an entire city block of them.
We sang and drummed and made music for Orisa, until a group of young men came through one of the alleyways blasting a boom box… then we slowed down. I think we were all disappointed we had to stop singing.
A minute or two later — even though I was sitting there watching — a younger version of myself, a little girl about eight or nine. She (me) came up to my father who was now sitting on the floor, put her head on his lap, and he began to tickle her (me) and kiss her (me), while she (I) laughed and laughed.
I woke up singing, and have been singing the song we were singing in the dream ever since.
I think the two dreams are connected, if only because I never ever dream of my father, and here I am dreaming twice in less than a week!