She-Devil
Last night I dreamt of a house, a Victorian house that I was in the midst of rehabbing: creaky, cobwebby, dark, but also beautiful. Someone kept calling to me. My sister, Norrie, came to the door in Louis XIV garb. Still, I hear someone calling. I look out the window and across the street is a bright red house with black trim, and in front is a classic devil girl, all red, with horns, calling to me, and I’m feeling the pull to leave the house and join her.
Sorrow & Joy
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
— Kahlil Gibran
Dreams
One cannot afford to be naïve in dealing with dreams. They originate in a spirit that is not quite human, but is rather a breath of nature — a spirit of the beautiful and generous as well as of the cruel goddess. If we want to characterize this spirit, we shall certainly get closer to it in the sphere of ancient mythologies, or the fables of the primeval forest, than in the consciousness of modern man.”
Carl G. Jung, “Approaching the Unconscious,” Man and His Symbols
Farmhouse
I dreamt last night of a farmhouse, my farmhouse. Somehow I knew it was mine, and there was a lot of work to be done. I was very aware of just how much work it would be for me as a single person to do the work of rehabbing the house and work the land to make it once again a working farm. Jenny was there, too, but as a child, and was, for one reason or another, in my care.
Experience
I believe that an experience is not even possible without reflection, because ‘experience’ is a process of assimilation without which there could be no understanding.
— Carl G. Jung, Psychology & Religion
Musings & Meditations 
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