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I was speaking, early this morning, with a dear soul friend of mine, I’ll call him Jack, who called to announce that he had been dreaming, of a bunch of scorpions, black and blue, crawling all over his body. “I’m a Scorpio,” he says, “and so this feels relevant.”

This man works in “the real world,” that of predatory capitalism, marketing a good product and trying to keep his soul intact while feeding his family — but surrounded by people who, more and more, are faking, lying, pretending; desperate to hold together a rapidly collapsing world.

A few nights ago, Jack says, he dreamed of my dad (who died on August 27th). “Your dad in his younger self.” They were sitting at a table. Dad told him that he supports him, whatever his decision. This dream is significant to both of us, because Dad was not one to leave the “real world” for realms unknown. On the other hand, Dad once left a thriving joint medical practice because he disagreed ethically with a group decision. So yes, what he said to Jack is in character.

Jack also told me he spoke with my 94-year-old Mom yesterday, and before I mentioned it, he said he notices what he calls a “gravelley” tone in her voice, and that he too, feels her to be more real. “She’s been like a half-submerged rock in a lake,” he said, “and the waves made by your Dad kept her from being visible.”

Fox News, on loud because Dad was hard of hearing, no longer fills the room. She sits in blessed silence, watching clouds drift through the sky in her new little aerie apartment, sinking beneath the surface of the role she played for 70 years as Ben’s “wife,” her children’s “mother,” to her origins, the original Re-nee (her name, in French, means re-born!).

No wonder she told me she’s going to start those art classes. Who knows what she will discover as she picks up a brush and begins.