Dream Roll: Jewels at the Russian Ballet

Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova. 

I know little about ballet [though I've been to a few lovely ones at Lincoln Center] but had a vivid dream just now about coming upon the destruction of the Russian Ballet building. I have no idea if such a building exists now or ever has.

But I was with Moey, and later, Anne and Michael Mernin, and I kept finding jewels. Unearthing treasures. It was a big building, and the levels circled around and around in a kind of spiral, not unlike following the seating levels at the ballet itself.

First I noticed a little simple gold ball post earring. And then I kept sifting through the abandoned place and found a beautiful pearl necklace, dangling earrings, ruby earrings, rings. I was showing Moey and two other women we didn't know what to look for, how to find things.

Moey and I were racing against the clock, because we had to be back for a Dumont High School track team dinner.

Look, I said to the two women. Rubies. These are the jewels the ballerinas wore in the Russian Ballet. They're real gold. Look how beautiful they are. And look at this gold detailing. 

The two women quickly caught my fever.

Soon, it became clear that there were whole jewelry rolls and boxes that the graceful dancers had taken with them to the ballet. Their costume people had wrapped and packed them carefully. There was an old cameo [like the ones my grandma Rose, my father's mother, had] but the face was gone. There were earrings and earrings and earrings. First you'd find one, and then you'd sift through the sandy dirt and find its mate. Over and over again.                                                  

There were carefully packed costume trunks, too. Skirts with beautiful, narrow pressed pleats. Boxes of saving bonds. It became quite clear that the dancers had packed up everything of value to them. They were running away.

The earrings had beautiful old details, like that kind of pretty gold netting that cradles a stone.  The square rubies were large and clear. One gold ring had a small light blue stone. It fit my ring finger perfectly.

By the end, though, I felt overwhelmed. I was asking Anne and Michael [who are financially smart professionals in real life, and also big tag-sale goers] about how to cash in the bonds, and I started to fret that I could not do that, they were not mine, that I'd be obligated to notify the owners. And that felt overwhelming and confusing. Then what about the jewelry? How could I rightfully keep that?

I was about to lay out a selection for Sis, so she could choose the jewels she wanted, when I woke up in my quite ordinary bedroom.

But to me the messages are clear:

1.  I love accessories, but I have enough. Too many to sort through, organize and properly appreciate. Possessions can be a burden. A fact I know all too well. Right now I still have mounds of mine to sift through, and many boxes from Dad's life, too.
2. What people leave behind can require work for the finders.
3. Things and people eventually vanish, like the face on the cameo. And now I just realized that Figgy has pretty little cameo earrings that she's been wearing all weekend. I've admired them, they're so cute. What does this mean?