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MASTER OF THE HOUSE OF DUSK

Dreamed 1994/10/10 by Chris Wayan

Silhouette of a house in a pass at dusk; a strange blurry squidlike thing in the clouds overhead.


I'm standing in front of a gray house set in a windy pass: the House of Dusk.

Legend says the pass is haunted by a flying ghostly thing, part squid, part radar-dish, with three wires or legs converging at its focus, becoming one strand/tail. It swoops around the pass when it's windy and foggy.

The House of Dusk is near my parents' home, but it's another world. I see auras, and this house has one. Muscular, yang, smoky and dark, where my family's is inward, convoluted, hidden, yin. This house is opaque--too strong for me to penetrate.

The door opens. The Master of the House challenges me. A big man with a black beard, his aura shouting intelligence. I fear him vaguely, because his technomagic has such force--greater than mine. And he plays rough--plays for keeps.

He sets me a riddle. "What haunts this pass? You get one guess." He asks anyone who seeks to enter his house. If I guess wrong, the rumors say I'll still enter the House... just never come out again.

I say, "It's like a kite or windsock... YOU are flying it!" He laughs ruefully, and I know I've won. "True enough." He says. "Though I'm teaching my son to fly it, these days."

I may have won the riddle, but I don't really understand. Clearly it's an antenna, held up by wind-power. But an antenna for what frequencies? Short radio waves I guess, since the dish isn't solid, just a wire mesh. What messages are they picking up? It's clearly a source of his technomagical powers. I may find out, now that I get to enter the House of Dusk. I cross the threshold... reluctantly.

I should be enthusiastic. It's a triumph, a privilege hard-earned... but I don't really want to enter this House. Such a gloomy place, such a tough, grim guy! Oh, I'll go in, and learn what I must to go on... but I can't savor this particular shamanic victory.

Not every House, no matter what its Power, feels like home.

NOTES ON WAKING UP

So the Master is a Jungian animus! The ambition and strength I suppressed out of feminist guilt, as if strength of character is male privilege. Not! It's my own power--my brains, my will, my magic! I won't repress it out of guilt, any more.

But the dream warns me there's another reason I've avoided this step into my power. Not guilt or fear, exactly--I just don't like the tough side of me. And taste, too, may have to be set aside, a while.



LISTS AND LINKS: dream houses - shamanic dreams - fear - initiations - tests - riddles - animus, anima, guides - Jungian Shadow - kites - a related figure, the Hedge King - a related dream-quest through the Twelve Diurnal and Nocturnal Lands. We even meet the kite. Yes, it's sentient. And... well, you'll see.

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