Cheryl and The Queen of England
The Queen of England and I are standing in a line waiting for coffee
The Queen of England and I are standing in a line waiting for coffee and I tell her that my aunt Cheryl would love to meet her. She starts to walk away but graciously changes her mind and says she’ll wait a few minutes. I look everywhere for Cheryl in a large women’s bathroom (dream about large women’s baths quite a lot) but cannot find her. Time passes, too much time, and I grow increasingly concerned that I am keeping the queen waiting.
Sean is in the dream somewhere. I cannot remember…
January 20th, 2003
Prince Harry of England is 13 and he has been kidnapped while asking someone for a cigarette on a highway. I know because I saw it on a television in a bathroom-slash-tv room at the Shambhala Meditation Centre. I am supposed to be meditating but the room is divided up and I couldn’t figure out how to do walking meditation so I went into another room with some children who were being watched, perhaps. I watch the news, which shows a swimming pool with tons of toys encrusted with sulphur*. The voice-over announces that the baby suffered and there is an image of a child’s face crawling with black bugs. I watch in horror and then realize I don’t have to watch and look away and then I wake up with a start and it is exactly 11 o’clock in the morning.
*At the time I was reading the writings of Whitmont (Edward) on Jungian analysis, healing and homeopathy.