I dreamed that my sister was going to sing the lead in an opera that my father was directing. I was jealous. I knew the part but I hadn't tried out, so I couldn't complain, but I wanted to. I thought my range might be better for it. They were going to record the opera and my sister said that she didn't want to be recorded. I offered to be the voice for the recording. They accepted.
I was in a room with my sister and three other women. A trickster was there and had stolen four bells from the oceans. They were bells on long ropes, and should be hanging down in the ocean but they were in the bathtub instead and were endangered. The trickster was in the tub. I went in the water and had to transform myself -- the trickster was a mat and I became a towel in the water lying over him. Instantly we were transported to the bottom of the ocean. The trickster and I were now one and the bells were safe and back where they belonged. We (the trickster and I) met a monk. He was like a cartoon drawing, a mad line drawing, part monk and part rabbit. He started talking about everything and led us back to the temple. There were two fires in the front room: sanctity and purity. There were two more fires in the back: cleaning up and cooking. There were three more monks in the back, line drawn with curly lines and round bellies, very buddha like and cheerful. One was a woman; the only way I could tell was that she had a bra made of tiny triangles that covered almost non-existant breasts. The monks welcomed me, were tremendously open and alert and joyful. One said that I had come at a wonderful time because they were just going to eat and they almost never ate.
I woke up. Four women, four bells, four fires, four monks. When I was in the ocean, the jealousy and preoccupation with the world entirely dropped away. The bells were more important.