A man is with me in my writing cave. He wants me to help him fit a book he has written into my computer. I am reluctant - I have so much to do, and he wants me to do this on my computer? I know I could do what he asks, though the operation is anything but a routine data transfer. It involves taking a whole life-size, embodied energy and transferring it into the computer. This life-size energy may be the whole form of my visitor, who appears as a shadowy figure in a long flapping coat, his features indistinct in the grainy dark.
While considering his request, I tune into the reminiscences of a group of middle-aged women. they are talking on a terrace overlooking a lake. On this side, it's a very orderly lake with manicured borders. It may be one of those man-made lakes created for expensive developments and gated communities. But on the far side of the lake, things are wild. There are islands over there, and wild men, and the ladies are giggling a little as they recall adventures that had with the wild men when they were quite young.
I need to understand what was going on with my male visitor, who wants me to put his story into my computer. I'm lucid now, and want to converse with him, but it seems he has moved on, at least for now. I have the impression of two images he has left with me. They remind me of Tarot cards, except that they are three times as long, in proportion to their width, as any card from a deck. One shows a series of fire triangles, making a high column. The colors are mostly reds and oranges, with sparks coming of the edges. The other card depicts what looks like a crescent beach in the moonlight. This "beach" card is a window; as I look at it I see that the whole scene is alive and watch the waves rolling in.
Feelings: Intrigued, slightly disappointed I was slow to grasp what might be going on with my visitor.Reality: I am ready to consider new book projects, having completed another non-fiction book this week. I am open to new ideas and new characters (for fiction). I recently had the experience - leading a group journey - of realizing that books, too, have souls. Was my caller the soul of a possible book? Or a parallel self who has actually written the book, in a parallel world? Now that would be an interesting writing partner!
Question: What is going on with the male visitor who wants me to transfer his story to my computer? What can I learn from the women? What is the significance of the "calling cards"?
Action: Draw the calling cards. Done (see above). Further action: have a go at writing narrative in a new first-person voice (of someone other than my present self).
