The Might of the Church

I am sitting in a small but crowded room (looks a bit like the music room in my last dream). It is a church group. There are lots of chairs and I can see a podium. The seat next to me is empty, but the rows in front and behind me are full (I am sitting in the same place I sat the first time I went to the spiritualist church in Huntingdon). A woman comes a sits by me, she’s not very friendly. She is middle aged, short, wavy dark blond hair. She is wearing a long skirt and a black cardigan. She tells me it is my turn to do a reading. I say no way, no one told me I would have to do a reading. She tells me they’re all waiting. I ask her what the reading is. She says it is something out of John’s gospel. I’m trying to figure out how long it is, I don’t think it is very long, so I say okay. (Think I should have stuck to my guns there). I don’t actually do the reading, (maybe this part was a test to see how I would react to being asked to do something I don’t want to).

I am writing something for a competition. They take just a hundred words form what I’ve written and that’s what they base their decision on. I think I am in my Nan’s old house in Webster close. I can see myself at the table by the patio windows at the end of the lounge. My Mum and L. are there, they don’t like the words I am using. I am using long words and they want me to use short words. I have to do this work before they will let me go somewhere.

I see myself and another woman wrapped up warm in waterproof jackets. I think I might be in a Range Rover. Or in some sort of cabin. I think it is on my parents drive. I have to stay here till get it right. (Don’t know what I have to get - to follow what I want to do not what others want me to do? Which is what the rest of the dream seems to be focused on).