Good Morning, World! ~ Welcome 2017, Morning Coffee, Show n’ Tell (video)

Happy New Year!  This is my first video to kick off 2017.  Forgive the lack of protocol and the informality of it all. I’m actually in my jammies, sitting on my bed, with a morning cup of coffee.  I wanted to be comfortable, and as long as the lighting was okay, why not.  My “Book of Shadows” video has been very popular; apparently people love looking at other people’s private stuff.  In this video I’ll be showing you my Grimoire (wonderful book, did it year’s ago, it’s a book of spells); my dream journal; diaries; daily tarot journal; gratitude journal, etc.  I hope you enjoy the relaxed totally informal morning chat and show & tell…I certainly did.
Blessings, Amythyst

Links to Me ~
The Witch’s Corner
Magickal Connections
The Tarot Parlour

The Music ~
by Kevin MacLeod
“Enchanted Journey”

VOLUME…audio hint ~ volume on this vid is best if you use head phones, ear buds, or a small speaker plugged in to your device.

Dream Journal: LA Dawn

It seems like a very long time since I’ve remembered any of my dreams.  This is last night’s dream, and it’s full of all kinds of symbolism:

I was sitting outside an apartment complex waiting for someone or something, not sure what. Along comes a heavy-set blonde man who reaches to take something out of his pocket and look at it. He notices me in passing, walks up to a container for trash and tosses the item he’s holding in his hand, a ring, unceremoniously into the box.

I watch him walk off.

I’m curious and want to see what it was.

I pick it out of the trash– it is incredible! It’s a man’s ring:

Large, very large; square; silver metal; size 13-15; across the top in tiny rows are small amethyst stones, the whole creating a large square design that covers the entire top of the ring; I turn the ring over and am startled to find all kinds of information etched into the back, presumably about the owner of the ring…By “Race”, it says “Dawn”– I presume that this is a Woman’s Name, or reference to the time of day; by “Medical Condition”– there is also a word, but I only remember the first two letters, “LA”–I presume this is the beginning of the name of a medical condition, or the initials of a Place.

As I hold the ring, I also see the owner in my mind’s eye:

A black male; 40-50 years old; hollow looking eyes– you could see lots of white around the iris; not a super bulbous nose, more carved and narrower; a squarish strong jaw, almost but not quite a lantern jaw; full lips, but not super big; high cheekbones; the skin (on his cheeks) looked like they could be acne scarred. He was wearing a black suit, including a tie, and a black fedora.

The man who disposed of the ring:

Blonde hair– smooth haircut, a fairly short cut, with blue eyes; 35- 45; broad shoulders and a big belly; very tall, at least 6′, maybe taller; wearing a black suit jacket over a sports shirt, tan pants.

I waited until this man (the blonde man) had walked some distance from where I was seated before I got up to retrieve the ring from the box; and even then, I was nervous and afraid that he would see me do it. I had the feeling that if he did, I would be in danger.

ocean dawn


Strange Dream: Birth Certificates

I had a very strange dream last night:

In my dream, I was in a house with sage green walls, going through the drawers of a cherrywood chest. My great-grandmother had died, and I felt that she wanted to tell me something, that something had been left unsaid. I was looking through boxes of rings, other jewelry, and small items when I came upon a box of envelopes.

I was just reaching for these envelopes when I heard my grandmother’s voice. She was telling me that my birth certificate was faked, that she had my real birth certificate here, with these papers, and that I should find it. I picked up a pile of envelopes and sorted through them, and sure enough– there was a birth certificate.

Next, it was very strange, but both within my dream and inside my awake concious mind was the admonition: Get the name!Get the name!Get the name!

I made sure at that moment, to read the surname on the birth certificate:


This morning I told my husband about my dream as he was getting ready for work. He said, “How on earth did you ever come up with that name?” (in my dream). I had no idea; I didn’t even know if it was a real word. So I googled it. This is what I discovered:

“Gana” is a Hebrew word meaning ‘garden’.

There is a water company called “Gana” only blocks away from the hospital I was born at in Gardena, California.

Three brothers with the last surname of “Gana” came to the United States from Barbados in the late 1820’s and early 1830’s. They landed at New Orleans. Apparently there is a family tree, family crest, the whole ball of wax.

This is one of those unique dreams that I’m sure I won’t forget.

Dreams: Beyond the Grave

(This dream was originally posted July 9th, 2008, at Myspace.)

My father-in-law passed away in mid-June. He was a very controlling manipulative man. When he died, my husband and I were estranged from him. In my lifetime I have experienced contact with people who have passed over. I knew that the spirit of this man would come. I just didn’t know how long it would take him to get a decent bearing in this new plane of existence. I was expecting him…

July 1, 2008

In this dream—

I and my husband’s family were in some kind of ‘house’—I don’t know if it was a country club (that’s kind of what it felt like), a funeral home, or what. There were large, spacious rooms, people milling about, mostly family. A kitchen area was along side these rooms—a galley kitchen. You could walk in one end and walk out the other.

My husband and I were in the kitchen together for a few minutes. I think we were slightly peeved with each other for some reason. On leaving the kitchen, my husband went into one of the spacious living rooms to watch TV, and I turned to the right and went into another.

One of my brother-in-laws, P_____, was in this room with several other people. He was sitting on a tan couch. There was no where to sit, everything was occupied. He tapped the couch between his knees and said, “Sit on the floor, over here, by me.”

So I went and sat on the floor, leaning up against the couch between P_____’s legs. There was something that felt uncomfortably intimate about this situation, but I wasn’t sure why. There was no reason, at that moment in my dream, to feel that way.

Not too much later, I was hungry and thirsty, so I got up and walked through the kitchen, coming out at the other end, where there was a small table of food and drinks sat up.

This table was in a smaller nook at the end of the kitchen where a dining table sat, and several men were seated around it playing cards. My father-in-law was one of these men.

When he saw me at the small table of food, he gathered the cards up and rose from his chair, coming over to me, extending his hand. I thought he wanted to shake hands, so I extended my hand and he took it in his.

In a flash of a split second, I knew I had made a mistake. He didn’t want to shake my hand—he began squeezing it, gradually, fiercely, the look in his eyes evilly gleeful. He was enjoying what he was doing with unabashed devilish delight.

The strangest thing about this dream is that I knew within that split second that I was dreaming and I knew, within that dream, that I was going to have to snatch my hand away before he could really hurt me. I looked into his eyes and I said, “You bastard!”, letting him know that I knew what he was up to. And I snatched my hand away at the last second, just before his grip would’ve tightened and I wouldn’t have been able to get loose.

The irony of this dream doesn’t end here. When I told my husband about this dream—and the fact that I was expecting his father’s spirit to manifest here in some way—he told me that he had dreamed of his father on the same night. In my husband’s dream, his father is sitting on a bench talking quietly and calmly to him. My husband told me that my father-in-law left a message for me—he said to tell me that he apologized.

Explore the World of Dreams

Do you keep a dream diary or journal?

If you don’t, you should at least think about it. When you can go back and re-read dreams you’ve had days, weeks, months, even years ago, it casts an amazing light on numerous things: your own persona most of all, how you view the world through symbols and analogies, hidden fears- jealousies- desires, patterns of behavior, and a host of other hidden agendas and personal quirks you were unaware of. Some dreams will reveal even more. You may get a glimpse of past life experiences, as well as contact with spirits or relatives and aquaintances who have passed over– and you will recognize these dreams when they occur.

If you decide to keep a dream diary, you should keep a notebook and pen right at your bedside. Dreams are elusive. In that split second between waking and sleeping, the dream will dissolve from your concious mind. You may wake up in the morning and know that you’ve been dreaming, but you will not, for the life of you, be able to remember anything about the dream itself. This can be extremely frustrating. To capture a dream, sometimes we have to jot it down as soon as we’re awake enough to hold a pen, but before we’ve had time to think of anything else, or speak to anyone. Often this means jotting down a dream, even just the rudimentary details, in the middle of the night by little or no light. When morning comes, then we can sit down and go over our scrawled notes– you will be amazed at how much will come back to you if you do this.

Dreams: A Fox, A Strange Woman, & a White Staircase

Dreams…you gotta’ love that filmy world that comes alive behind our closed eyelids, when the secrets of our subconscious mind begins to twitch, to flicker, and come alive as we enter the realm of sleep. I’ve noticed that many of my dreams contain a house, or the essence of a house, usually with a dizzying array of rooms. I’ve often wondered if this could indicate the busy world of my everyday life, filled with a variety of people and roles. I am also prone to dreams of deceased family members. This happens every once in a while, and within my dream, they usually have something they want to tell me.

Early in my studies of the occult, I would have dreams with two distinct characters who would come to me with a variety of interesting messages relating to witchcraft, divination, and spiritual mysteries in general. These characters consisted of a very disheveled and wrinkled stoop-shouldered little woman, with a wild main of salt and pepper hair. She usually shuffled along in boldly colored flowing robes, was surrounded by cats, and would stop and stare at me with twinkling mischievous eyes. Her messages were whispered– I had to listen close to catch them. The second character always appeared with her back to me. I never saw her face. She was a tall slender very poised woman with long flowing white hair, dressed in somber colored robes. This woman would be sitting, lotus fashion, with her back to me, and when she spoke, I would hear her words in my mind.

 One of the messages she gave me, that resonates still today:
“Learn to control your mind.”

I keep a dream journal, have for years, and I’ve always been very diligent about recording my dreams in detail; but the last couple nights have been so interesting, I thought I’d blog the dreams that came to me and share them with you.

In one night, through the course of one dream, three objects were highlighted: a fox, a strange woman, and a flight of white stairs.

The fox was a secret, and was being kept concealed in an ancient looking dark cellar with a dirt floor, stone walls, and large barrel kegs. It was sleeping beneath a rough hewn shelf behind the kegs, and I was amazed as it came crawling out of this space, still hazy with sleep.

The woman was sitting on a stool at a bright yellow 1950s style lunch counter. I was seated in a booth right beside and facing this woman. Someone slid in beside me and grasped my hand. In my dream I was able to read this person’s mind, and when they spotted this woman at the lunch counter they were startled, as they knew her, and they were thinking: “I’d better not show Amythyst too much affection, or I’ll piss her off.”

The white staircase was metal, standing free, not connected to anything; and it had apparently been splattered with mud. I decided to wash it off and was amazed at how difficult the task actually was.

A fox, a strange woman, and a flight of white stairs going no where…


Dream Catch