The Dream
Camping.
A muddy field,
I lay out two picnic blankets.
I watch—
an immaculately dressed woman
lays her blanket
on the ground.
I wonder:
Will she get muddy?
I turn around.
My partner has rolled
onto one of the blankets,
stood up,
ran backwards,
and then forwards
onto the other—
he leaves a trail
of footprints.
I wake myself up,
shouting at him.
—
A girl sets up a stall.
We’re at a public event.
She’s young.
I admire her bravery.
I finger through her trinkets—
children’s toys…
I used to sell those
in a past life.
—
On a bus,
I help a boy—
he’d been injured.
I’m also a child now.
I recount how I’d fancied him
for years—
he’s never noticed me.
My friend wants to speak
with him and his friend,
but I have no interest
in chasing his affections now.
—
When I finally wake,
I have two symbols in my mind.
I scribble them down
and put the photo into OpenAI
for it to find them:
Ansuz and Rahu—
or in Western tradition,
The North Node.
But Ansuz has a third prong,
which AI suggests is perhaps a bindrune.
On its own, the other rune is Laguz.
The Meaning
muddy blankets
I’m trying to create space in a mess.
I wake, shouting.
This is about space being violated.
I’m protecting boundaries
while others clumsily crash on.
woman
I wonder if she’ll get muddy—
but really, I’m looking to her to find out:
How does she stay clean?
This is the part of me that wants
to move through mess
without absorbing it.
girl
I see my past self in her,
but from a place of gentle recognition,
not regret.
She’s starting something
I once survived.
boy
I’m helping someone who never saw me,
who I used to long for.
Now?
I’m not chasing.
I’ve grown past the need to be chosen.
The Symbols
Ansuz: inspiration, transmission, divine voice.
Laguz: water, emotions, intuition, depth, flow.
Rahu/North Node: soul’s destiny, karmic direction.
Together? A holy triad.
I’m being told—clearly, cosmically:
Listen.
This is not random.
Your path, your emotions, your dreams—
they are one system.
Stop second-guessing.
The messages are coming through.
And they’re meant for you.
What Lingers…
What if messages aren’t metaphor,
but a map—pointing to what’s already known deep down?
What if growth isn’t about staying clean,
but learning how to move through mud with meaning?
Marginalia
In waking life, I was trying to understand how my ancestral, dream, and herbal work connected. I didn’t have a clear map or plan—just a hunch, and then this dream, among others like The Room Behind the Wallpaper, and The House That Contains Everything, kept nudging me forward. However unusual it seemed, I went with it, trusting it would all make sense in time.
