Dreams and Fantasies
I dream a lot, almost every night. Well, I guess everyone does that, but I almost always remember one or two dreams a night and only occasionally are they bad dreams. I also DAYdream a lot and I have my favorite little fantasies. But the weird thing about me (one of many weird things I guess) is that my sleeping dreams and my fantasies often flow into one another. Granted, there are sometimes drugs involved, but not always. Often, when I am not under the influence of anything but my own chemicals, if I fall asleep thinking of something I often will dream of it. And if I wake up remembering a dream that I really enjoyed, I lie there thinking of it and sometimes drift to sleep again and dream it some more. I'm good at dreaming. It is one of my natural talents. So here is where I'm gonna write some of them down. I will warn you right off the bat than some of this is pretty erotic stuff, at least to me. You will notice that several of them have to do with fertility, some are sexy, some are kinda religious and some manage to be all those things. My 'Mother Earth' dreams I have written elsewhere of my actual theology of a Sentient Earth, but I have also had some vivid sleeping dreams in which I am Mother Earth and I am fertile and all life springs from me. There weren't a lot of details in those dreams; just a feeling that I was the big, grassy earth and that I sustained the life that grew on me. Analyzing my dreams is usually easy because ya know, I'm just not that deep. I love nature and I want to get pregnant. End of explanation. There is a more elaborate version of this dream/fantasy that I am going to share with you, but I will admit right here at the beginning that I was really stoned when I experienced this. By way of background, Mona had the previous day put some temporary tattoos on me that look like tiny vines and flowers originating from my vagina. We have done this many times and I have written about it once or twice. Although temporary tattoos are, of course, temporary, it takes several days for them to fade, so I still had them on me when we were spending the following afternoon in the pool with our close friends. Mona's sister, Molly was also visiting and had brought some of her special brownies. I consumed a little too much of this a little too fast and got so high I had to go upstairs and lie down. It was early evening and the low sun was blazing through the western window, but I didn't want to get up to close the blinds. I could hear the party still going on downstairs as I fell asleep. I started having one of those dreams in which you know you are dreaming, so I was aware that I was lying on my back on our bed with my knees bent. Yet at the same time I was also aware that my legs were mountains and there was snow on my knees. In my dream, both of these realities were equally true. The snow on my knees was slowly melting to form a waterfall which trickled and then gushed down between my legs, where it broke against a mossy little rock and then the water flowed down inside of me, into my vagina and filling me with the groundwater that gave nourishment to all the green grass and trees that grew all over my body. 
My belly was a huge pregnant hill covered in grass, and flowers grew out of me everywhere. People lived all over me and some of them were naked and some wore gauzy robes over one shoulder and they lounged around fountains drinking wine like something you'd see in a Bouguereau or Alma-Tadema painting. My breasts were like volcanos, but instead of hot lava they flowed a milky honey and all the little people would capture it in buckets and they celebrated my bounty with Bacchanal parties. (Apologies if that last detail was a bit much for some readers). Meanwhile, down there between my legs where the waterfall splashed against the little mossy rock, nymphs frolicked in the water and clung to the slippery rock. I could feel them on my clitoris. There was one nymph in particular and she was naked and wet and she had long red hair (in a pre-Raphaelite kinda way) and she hugged the soft mossy rock and kissed it. And as she kissed it she grew in size and became Mona -- who was actually down there between my legs in real life giving me kisses, the setting sun through the window illuminating her hair. I woke up enough to know what was happening, but I didn't want to let go of the dream so I imagined her head as a shaggy red-orange forest in Autumn, and I kept all of that Mother Earth imagery in my mind as I had a truly epic orgasm.  I dream of my babyNearly every night I dream I am holding my baby, or nursing my baby or looking at her as she sleeps in her crib. I dream of being pregnant, I dream of being in labor and of giving birth. I dream of her tiny hands gripping my finger. I wake up sometimes with the scent of her downy head in my nose. (Usually it is a girl, but not always). I wake up CONVINCED that she is in the other room in her crib. I actually have to get up and go look in the room which we have decided will be the baby's room someday. Sometimes it feels almost like grief when I realize she is not there, but I also feel an overwhelming sense of inevitability, that she WILL be here someday. I have names picked out, but I don't think I will mention them here. If you know me well at all you will have heard this one. It is an actual sleeping dream that I have had repeatedly. Mona and I are both pregnant, both about 9 months along, and we are in bed together holding each other in the early morning just starting to wake up. We are naked and our big bellies are pressing against each other so that we feel each other's breath and we feel each other's baby inside of her -- and the babies feel each other move, they are so close, just inches apart but separated by the thin walls of their mommies tummies, yet they are getting to know each other, playing while their mothers sleep. I first had this dream several years ago and I don't think it was specifically me and Mona at that time, just two pregnant women, but nowadays it is always us. I have only had this dream once, but have been trying to conjure it again. It was a nursing dream (and I have had plenty of those before), but this time I looked down and my baby had curly orange-red hair like Mona. In my dream, this made sense because we had this baby together. I was disappointed when I woke up and my brain reminded me that procreation doesn't work that way (at least not in this universe; see below), but then it occurred to me that if for some reason I can't get pregnant with my own eggs, there is always the option of donor eggs -- from Mona. So my own DNA would not be there, but both Mona's and Jack's would be. So that's an interesting thought. A nightmareThis is probably the worst nightmare I've ever had and it was years and years ago. I was outside on a bright sunny day in a starkly new suburban neighborhood in which there are no mature trees and all the grass is perfect and the sidewalks are straight and white. And I walked carefully down one of those sidewalks to a house where a very proper middle aged lady handed me a delicate bag that I had to carry to a neighbor's house (I was a child, I think). 
And as she handed it to me I realized that it was not really a bag but a living thing. It was two kittens, but there was something terribly wrong with them. It was as if they were still in the womb and I was carrying the water-filled womb with the kittens in it. Their heads and front legs were partly out at the top and that is what made the "handle" to the bag. It was heavy and delicate, like a water balloon that is about to burst, and the kittens' fur was wet and their eyes were closed but they moved a little as I carried them and mewed a little. And I was not permitted to walk across the bright green grass but had to go down the sidewalk and around to the next house and up its sidewalk to deliver the package. And every step I took the bag wiggled and seemed to stretch and it was so delicate and I NEEDED to be careful and I went very slowly and carefully and I was almost to the porch of the second house where another stern lady awaited me, and I started to hand her the bag, wanting to be rid of it, when just then it burst and all the water collapsed on the sidewalk and I tried to save the kittens but they disintegrated between my fingers. This, I am afraid, also has to do with fertility. It was like a miscarriage, or an abortion. It was the death of infants in the womb. Perhaps my mind made them kittens to be able to deal with it at all, I don't know. I have known women who had miscarriages -- one of them quite late in the pregnancy -- and women who had abortions. I don't want to get into the politics of it, except to say I support a woman's right to choose to have an abortion, but I also believe that the fetus is a human life. These are not conflicting concepts. Both the woman and the fetus have rights. If a man beats up a pregnant woman and she loses her baby, then the man should go to jail for homicide because the unborn human does have rights. But the woman carrying the fetus has greater rights than the unborn human and therefore should not be prevented from undergoing an abortion. 
A sci-fi fantasyI'm not really into sci-fi or fantasy stories involving hobbits and wizards and stuff, but I've always been attracted to the notion of fairies, water nymphs, etc and I love art that depicts them -- even some of those cheesy fantasy-art images of naked chicks with pointy ears and gossamer wings. Just so long as there's no swords or slimy creatures involved. Once when I was in college in a composition class we were assigned to write a story in the sci-fi/fantasy genre. I had fairly recently come out as gay and was in love with Kelly at the time and wanted to marry her and live happily ever after with her (which is not what she was thinking but we won't go into that). Anyways, I was hanging around with a bunch of lesbians for the first time in my life and I thought: what if there were no men? What if there were just women in the world and everyone was lesbian? Wouldn't the world probably be a much better, more peaceful place?? So I wrote this story about people on another planet in which this was just how life had evolved. And although there had still been conflicts and even wars, their world was a much more peaceful place in which conflict got resolved and nations sent each other fruit baskets and nice thank you notes. 
But of course I had to explain how procreation took place in this world. The thing I came up with was that on this planet a woman's tongue was also a sexual organ. Yes, I know it already is, but on this world a woman's tongue could secrete a baby-making equivalent to semen (but that tastes like honey, of course). So, two women would kiss and as they kissed their tongues would secrete a tiny bit of this substance in the same way our salivary glands secrete saliva. And this would be an aphrodisiac making them more and more excited as they kissed. Then, when they decided to shift to oral sex, their tongues would actually become somewhat erect, lengthening and stiffening in a way functionally similar to man's penis but still looking like a tongue. And when the woman had her orgasm there would be additional secretions and procreation might or might not result. Whew! Sexy, isn't it? My English prof didn't quite know how to react I bet (but I did get an A). In the years since, I have often brought up my "what if there were no men" theory in conversations about the crap that happens in the world (which is almost universally driven by men), and Mona haas heard it a zillion times. The sexual part of it has become one of the things we joke around with. When we see a really hot girl out in public in a skimpy outfit, Mona sometimes says, "Libby, are you ogling that girl?" And I'll pretend my tongue is too stiff to speak properly and will reply "I wath jutht admirig her dreth! Reawy!" My Jesus dreamsWhen I was about 10 or 11, it was dawning on me that there was a lot of suffering and injustice in the world and that the adults did not, in fact, have everything under control. There were things you just couldn't do anything about, I was told. But meanwhile I was going to mass every Sunday and hearing the priest talk about God and Jesus and miracles. Catholics are big on miracles -- that's how you get to be a saint, by doing two or three miracles.
I have had similar dreams many times since then. I've healed injuries, birth defects, paralysis -- heck, I've grown LIMBS back onto people. Nowadays I'm more subtle, see. I bless the person but nothing immediately changes. But then over a period of weeks or months they gradually heal - fingers start growing out of the stumps of arms. Severed spinal cords slowly begin to grow and then -- months later perhaps -- the two ends connect and the quadraplegic in bed suddenly feels his toes, looks down at them and makes them wiggle. My shrink (who reads my blog before my appointments to save time) says it is interesting that I do my Jesus thing anonymously since people who fantasize about this generally enjoy the glory that accompanies it. I have at least once dreamed that people knew it was me doing the healing, but that turned out to be scary because crowds gathered and followed me around and there were so many people, endless lines of sick people and I ran out of energy and I was surrounded and some people were heckling me and throwing stones. That particular dream really gave me a feeling for what it must have been like for the real Jesus -- and I do think he was real, and that he did heal people. However, I don't believe the “John 3:16” theology that was developed by people like Paul and John to explain Jesus. I won't go into that here because this is about dreams. See my Spirituality page for my take on Christianity. Or not.
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And then I saw this kid younger than me at the grocery store who had been severely burned and was scarred all over his face. And I wished that I was Jesus so I could heal him. And that night I did just that -- in my dreams. I wasn't Jesus, I was me but I had His power to heal. I put my hands on that boy's face and smiled at him and asked God to bless him. And that reddish, twisted skin began to peel off like a blister to reveal smooth fresh skin underneath. And by the time his mother turned and saw him I was gone -- she never saw me, but I heard her cries of amazement as I walked down the cereal aisle.