Dream Date:  November 1 – All Saints Day                         Dream Time:  3 am

In recent days I have considered my life and why things haven’t taken off faster and better than they have, despite any talent I think I possess.  Perhaps this dream (possible past life memory) explains it:

The Road Trip

I was a female driver, around age 32.  I was a very good-looking woman….. African American with big hair, a big coat with fur around the collar, and I was driving a 1940s or 50s style, light-colored chevy car with a lot of other people, some singers, some dancers of the same ethnicity as me in my car.  I was the star of the show even though I was the one driving.  We were a part of a caravan of entertainers and had been traveling all day, and there were a lot of people in this caravan that consisted of cars and one large bus.  My car was packed with people and luggage — we were the last car in the caravan line.

Finally, the lead vehicle pulled up to a gas station and hotel complex and I was very happy because our car was overcrowded.  I wanted to get out, stretch, wash and rest and so did everyone else in my entourage, however I (the driver) felt a bit of trepidation.

As the last of the vehicles pulled up to the gate, the movement slowed to a stop.  I remember seeing some people already off the bus on the other side of the fence, stretching and preparing to settle in for the night.  They were all young, caucasian men and women with fashion and hairstyles that were from the 1940s or 50s.

From My Point of View

The caravan started moving again, slowly, and I was relieved, though I had a sense of foreboding:  now keep in mind, I was me – Renee Tarot, but I could feel how the female driver felt and had both our thoughts, mine today and hers.  I saw things as if I were a little elf sitting on her shoulder.

By the time my car was set to go through this wrought iron gate, the gates to the hotel and the gas station were closed quickly. The female driver(who was me) was really pissed and I could sense that she had expected this and was angry because she was the star.  She  started  to yell and use profanity, directed toward the road manager who was walking up to the driver’s side window.

He was a 40ish, caucasian male dressed in one of those old-fashioned suits, with dark hair partially covered by a hat sitting on the back of his head.  He seemed weary and had loosened his tie.  He bent down while I rolled down the window — I was still yelling.  The rest of my entourage in the car with me were silent — everyone in my car was African-American and I could sense a feeling like, you knew this would happen.

He told me he was sorry, but they’d run out of rooms and we’d have to sleep in the car outside the fenced-in hotel.  He asked me to back into one of the parking spaces, which was under some trees that lined the fence. He seemed very apologetic, but I sensed that he knew this would happen, and that there were still available rooms.

I was really angry because all of this was planned; my car being packed with “us”, my car being the last of the caravan, the lie he’d just told me about no more rooms, etc.

I then became one with the driver as if we were truly the same person and was thinking and saying to my weary, fellow roadies that I had had enough of the road and was of the mind to pull off and ditch this trip and that I would never put my self in a position to have to travel like this again.

As I pondered driving off and leaving the entertainment company stranded, I woke up, got out of bed and hurried to my computer before I forgot any of this.

Lessons Learned:  People who say we have one life to live are right — that one life sometimes happens to be in more than one physical body, and apparently I have kept my promise to myself.  BTW, I still would rather not travel  in a car for more than 20 minutes at a time.

R