The Queen and the Rebels - 2 dreams

 I am in a village hall and there are lots of people gathering, they are XR activists. I go up to a desk to see about joining in, to find out what I can offer.

The Queen and the rebels 1

A young man behind the counter processes me swiftly and without really registering me as a person, ignoring my questions.

I look round and realise my mom is with me, she looks more amazing than I have seen her for a long time. She is dressed in "youthful" colourful ways, she has a red hankerchief on her head and a yellow one around her neck.

She speaks but the young man ignores her even more than he ignored me.

I fume inside thinking / feeling - "you have NO idea who you are talking to, you have NO idea who is seated before you, you have NO idea of the vast wealth of experience just under your nose".

I am about to explode with anger when I wake up.

The Queen and the rebels 2

I am at an event and people start to pile onto a bus. They are going on a protest - I am uncertain but hop on board anyway. On the journey I feel like an outsider.

We arrive and I realise we are at Merry Hill, a small area of shops, flats and a traffic island close to where I grew up. I feel uncomfortable, I didn't realise we would be protesting so close to home.

We pile out the bus and are walking towards the flats. A young woman comes up behind me, she picks me up and walks along with me for a while - I laugh with an edge of confusion and discomfort. "You are so strong how can you carry me like this?" I say, half hoping she will put me down, which she does eventually.

We arrive at the traffic island and some young men throw themselves on the road stopping the traffic. Some work men get out of their van and roll their eyes wearily, I start to feel embarrassed, what do we serve by stopping these men getting home from work?

I gradually start to realise the protest is against THE QUEEN and I am horrified, I had no idea that THIS was what we were protesting against. I start to see if I can slip away from the demonstration quietly and unnoticed. I move through the crowds, for a moment I am swept up in a band of protestors who are playing Balkan style music, on accordions, it is really beautiful and I move along with them for a while.

Then I slip away.

Its dark and I came here on a coach and have no money and no way home, where will I sleep I wonder? I realise I am near Trysull Road, my childhood home and wonder if my mom is there. I start to head there, I imagine her and look forward to seeing her. But also I worry that she won't be there, and in my imagination I wonder "but isn't she sick? Will she still be alive?"

I head down the road - its a simple straight line between Merry Hill and 123 Trysull road but for some reason I nip off to the side to take a shortcut. I am going down a steep set of steps and other are running down it with me. Its a very narrow steep alleyway cutting between houses.

As each set of steps get more narrow, I run down them in ever more inventive ways, almost like the sport of Parkour. However inside I feel out of my depth and am doing it just to impress the men around me, who are also running down these steep narrow steps.

Finally I come to one that is only cross bars above my head with NO steps at all. I stop at this one and turn to the man next to me - "there are NO steps, is it meant to be like that?". He says "no a man built it that way, yeah its a bit shit. If you swing from the bars you can go through that very narrow window just over there and your journey will be complete".

So I swing and wake up just as I am trying to post myself through said very narrow window. Its very small and I recall my face being pushed up against a pile of lemons as I try to squeeze through ...