Chapter 9

My Dream Composer (October)

music: Debussy

My beloved October has two full moons: Harvest and Blue. And the Harvest full moon is on Halloween! My time for a Harvest. How amazing is that?

Spending a morning on the Google monster, I now know more than ever about Samhain (sah-win), the original Halloween celebrated by the druids. That’s when the veil between the visible and invisible worlds dissolve, making magic more available. And bringing love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.

So, a few days before Halloween, I was totally hoping to connect with my angel. I sit quietly, praying or talking to the sky (whichever it is), and do everything I can think of as the veils dissolve- but she says nothing. I do the same with Drew to try and connect to the druids, asking him, asking them, please speak to me. Every afternoon, or evening, and they say nothing.

But the night before Halloween something changed, big time! Or maybe it’s about to change, I don’t know. Anyway, I had this dream, like ten minutes before my alarm was set to go off. I wrote it down, and going back to bed, I closed my eyes in order to see images from the dream. But instead, these words appeared above me, glowing and breathing. And I swear, I heard my angel’s voice, whispering the words in my ear:

The Space Between the Notes.

OMG! I panic and freeze up, just like I did in my dream with her. My eyes are closed tight and the words are still pulsing with life in front of me. I start calming down, breathing slower, then I flash open my eyes, quickly scanning around the room to check for any signs of my angel, Magic. Seeing that she’s not here, I sigh with relief. But once I feel safe, I’m sorry that I don’t see or hear her. Now I’m wondering, could I have fallen asleep for just a moment and dreamed her voice had spoken to me? Pondering that for a bit, I’m certain I was awake the whole time. Or at least 99% certain. At any rate, the world seems to be getting stranger (at least my world is).

Anyway, back to my dream. I’m standing in someone’s living room and look over to see a grandfather clock against the wall. And on top of it is a big tomcat, or a bobcat. Waving its short tail, looking right at me. I glance back at the clock to see what time it is, and now the cat disappeared and the clock’s face is a cat’s face. It smiles at me, and I think- what a totally weird and magical place!

At the far end of the living room I notice another room with the door open, and I walk inside. There’s a grand piano close to the wall, and I’m the only one in the room. Out of nowhere, the piano starts playing by itself: lovely, quiet slow melodies that breathe into the room, creating a lovely stillness.

I start breathing deeply with the music. As I breathe out and pause, the music plays more quietly. Breathing in, the music grows a little louder. Like it’s breathing with me! Soon, while slowly breathing in and out, my mind becomes empty, and I float to the ceiling as the music continues. I know I’ve heard this music before, but now it sounds new and fresh and empty, like me. I hear the clock ticking and the cat purring in rhythm. I begin conducting the sounds like an orchestra, listening for other sounds to join in. Then I wake up.

Lying in bed, I don’t move. I know this is a dream I’ll always remember, so I close my eyes to recall every moment. As I hear the dream music in my head, parts of it remind me of Debussy, his Footprints. And other parts felt like I was improvising the music with him, playing a duet with my favorite composer.

I carefully turn the light on and pick up my pen and notebook, writing it all down. Then lie back in bed to try and revisit my dream, but instead I’m shocked by you-know-who, writing a blazing message in my mind, whispering the words softly and lovingly, in her radiant voice that I’ll cherish forever.

I’m brought back to myself when I hear the soft patter of Mom starting her shower. I close my eyes, remembering my magical dream, and hear the water as music. I walk to my bedroom window, sliding it open to hear the music of a chirping sparrow on the hydrangea bush next to the house, accompanied by a car driving along our street. Is my angel hearing this too? I imagine so, she told me she’d never leave me.

I breathe more deeply to calm myself, so my mind can become quiet and I can listen to all the sounds together. Listening to the music that never stops. As I pay closer attention, I hear squirrels chittering at each other as they scamper around Drew, joined by birds singing in the distance. I gently wave my hand as if I’m conducting, because everything we hear is our own symphony, where we’re the conductor, the performer, and the audience.

But to really hear it, first we need to get quiet, breathing softly, and listening deeply: to the sounds, and to the silence, the space that defines the music. The space between the notes.