In low state physically, mentally, spiritually for some time. Last night in deep dejection I asked for light or help. Got the following.

In a building which covered acres—in fact, knew of nothing but building, rooms, halls, galleries, etc. Two stories. A man “The Catch of the Season”, was surrounded by a bevy of young women, the clever kind who are always at the centre of the chief interest. This group was continually on the move, upstairs and down. Once in passing the man stopped and said to me (I standing apart form any group but somehow linked with a less showy element): “If you . . . . I shall send you back.” I replied: “I care nothing about those women.”

There was something about bathing. Found this impossible because the floor surrounding each tub—an oblong flush with the floor—gave way under my feet. A short matronly woman finally arranged a bath for me in a room where floor was solid.

Then I found myself downstairs at the dining table of the Man’s aunt, a tall, slender, aristocratic, elegant woman of about 55. Rooms and halls here sumptuous—many people.

The hour for tea was at hand, but no tea appeared. I rose from the table, moved along a wide long hall to right of reception rooms; curved to left and found servants quarters. Lackeys (men in uniform) came running from various doors bearing many dishes. I was surprised at the extent of the “Tea”, profuse and elaborate. The dishes were placed on a large tea wagon. I accidentally spoilt the appearance of one dish by the edge of another; the Lackey much perturbed; I said, “Never mind, I will tell the butler ‘twas my fault”, which I did then and there, he just then showing up. (I in grey satin of pinkish-lavender tone, with veil floating round my figure but not over my head.)

I then found myself in a gallery to left of reception rooms, and running parallel with them, the people I saw there making a palaver and simpering at me because I “sat at the Aunt’s table!”

Then I was walking along a garden path with the Aunt, the garden otherwise empty. She informed me she had chosen me for the mater of the Man. I amazed—“Why me!” “Because in all the throng you are the only one that thought of my tea.” We came to a tall building, decidedly phallic, the workshop of the nephew. Pagoda-like. We entered door at side of the top. The Aunt said, “I will go down first and make it easier for you.” She suddenly disappeared—impressed me as having fallen. I peered anxiously over the edge, and found rising up through centre of building, one-third of its distance, a pillar of cement (round or square?); rising out of this a number of pipes of different lengths, iron, like gas or water pipes, out of which steam was escaping. The Aunt rested her body across some pipes, her head immediately below our entrance, her feet opposite. I got down (how?) and placed my body at right angles, my feet on pipes, my head or shoulders on her solar plexus.

Next found myself at base of pillar, lying—curled somewhat—face downward in utter abasement. Woe filled me, and a feeling of intense shame. Simultaneously I heard the Man’s quick, firm step approaching; he was eager, triumphant. As he stood by me I had a feeling he preferred another, though I knew not whom. He stooped, my clothes came off in his grasp. I lay, naked, my body whiteness itself. He was utterly content, and his vibration one of satisfaction of a dynamo at full speed (I do not know how else to describe it; there was nothing of the so-called ‘human’ about it). I enabled the dynamo to operate.

I then found myself on a ship’s deck, seated above and apart from the people on board, who moved about as though in awe of me, spoke in whispers, etc. I still the embodiment of woe. Finally a man, feeling compassionate, stepped forward softly and reverentially, and said “He has gone to arrange your passage: you are both sailing on the . . . . . . .” (What was the name!) I realized then that the Man was in the cabin of the Captain; that the ship was not an ordinary one, it was quite distinctive, and was as the Ruler of all other vessels, powerful and swift.

I came out of this dream with the woe still upon me, though it passed off quickly.

In the afternoon Beast came in to wish me a Happy New Year. The sorrow rose again, I felt like weeping up my boot-heels, and went out for a solitary walk. But it availed me naught. Physically too tired to go far.

Even.

A Solstice ceremony in Circle; very good indeed. After retiring I realized that in order fully to complete herself Woman had to achieve something in which Man has no part. I.e. Woman may give up her entire life to helping Man achieve his Will; it is not sufficient for her.

I have a message for Woman (“You thought of my Tea”, i.e. Woman’s affairs). Now to dig it out. Mine the Cup and the Disk, Beast the Wand and Sword; thus completing the whole.