So, I had a dream. The premise of this dream involved my husband and I being sent on a team task with two other people, specifically men with special needs assigned to us, to solve a riddle by going through this stone underground maze. We enter the maze and begin looking for the clues. Hubby holds the paper with directions as I lead our group through the tight tunnels. At points the tunnels are clearly rock walls you see in caves, while other points they were stone tunnels that were made by ancient man. The tunnels were a beige sandstone, which seemed odd for the answer we received for the riddle. Our question for the riddle was:
“Who brews your bubbly for magical conjuring?”
Going through the tunnel was interesting. When a clue was being revealed, a room would appear that we could walk into and explore for further clues. I was writing down the clues we discovered in this little journal to combine and solve the riddle question at the end of our journey. During the process, hubby and I would go into the room of clues and once out the four of us would determine what it meant. The two men with us wanted to backtrack at every moment, and would question any hypothesis hubby and I would suggest. Every time we backtracked, the room of clues we had just gone into would disappear and a hardened wall of rock or stone would be presented to us. I felt a moment of rejection at each turn this occurred. Eventually, the two men abandoned us and decided that their conclusions were accurate and rejected ours completely. They even refused to write down the clues and information we had gathered from my journal.
Hubby and I continued on without them. As we walked forward, I realized we were walking past one of the walls that had been an entrance to a room. It was hard. I pressed on the wall, hoping there was a secret switch to discover (like in a Scooby-Doo cartoon). There were no switches, just a solid wall. We walked forward and the tunnel angled to the left with a stream of sunlight and a sheer drape flapping in a soft breeze. I was nervous about what could be around the corner, and for some reason assumed it would be a jackal or some other creature out to get us. Instead, it was the end of the maze.
We were instructed to sit at a table and to tell our solution to the riddle. I looked around the room, nervous since we were convinced that we had no answer. There was a table with members from another coven looking back at us and smirking. They obviously knew the answer. There were other tables with people, but I couldn’t make out who they were. I announced that we did not have the answer, feeling very defeated. Then the woman hosting the riddle contest stated, “You came out of the maze. Are you sure you really don’t have the answer?”
Then I thought back to the rooms with clues and hit on an early room we were in. This room had a seated deity, male in form, who had a bubbling cauldron. The walls had moss creeping up them and a blueish haze illuminated the back of the cave. The cauldron sat atop a fire in the middle of the floor with bottles of herbs scattered around it. The deity smiled and introduced himself as the Dagda. It was in this moment of thinking back on the room that I knew the answer to our riddle. I murmured this to Hubby and we announced in unison:
“The Dagda brews our mead!”
Now, there have been a lot of things that could influence this dream of mine. I have been doing reading and making a lot of things recently.
- Hubby and I bottled our mead from last summer. That could contribute to the foundation of the riddle question. I specifically brewed this mead to be used for magical purposes. Who knew at the time I started the process in June 2017, that I would be abandoning my Druidic order and becoming a witch.
- I have been reading The White Goddess, Robert Graves’ text on analyzing riddles in Irish mythology. I am fairly certain that this is a direct connection to the text, since we were trying to find the answer to a simple riddle question.
- The tunnel and maze. Well, Graves talks about mazes and labyrinths in his text. I have also been delving into discovering more about The Morrígan as well as influenced by the goddess Sekhmet (tattooed on my back). That could explain the changing walls of the maze between the two deities.
I truly believe that the combined influences of what I have been doing and reading lately contributed to the dream. Maybe the Dagda is a magical influence on my mead making, or maybe my brain mushed all the available information it had into a dream that took me down a meandering path of discovery.