I went on a women-only retreat in my home town of Glastonbury, together with a Dutch friend of mine. We 
walked from my home to Well House Lane at the base of the Tor. This retreat was organized by a native South-American shaman. I did not get to see him initially, we only met when we were well into the retreat.
By the time my friend reached her destination, I saw the other Dutch women who were participants at the same retreat, sliding down a chute from the side of the hill. I knew instantly that I needed to be with them, at the bottom of the chute on Well House Lane. I knew I did not have to cross the bridge. I turned around and walked down the hill again.
At the bottom of the hill, at the height of the White Spring on one side and the Red Spring (Chalice Well) on the other, stood our South-American shaman, handing out artifacts depicting Goddess. I could only see his arm and hand, giving out the symbols. Anxiously I thought: “Hmm I hope I get the right one, I hope I will not be disappointed with what I am about to receive.” Our shaman gave me a doll. I liked it.
I walked down Well House Lane – direction Chilkwell Street – cradling my doll like a new born baby in my arms. I turned around and walked up the lane again. While I was admiring the doll in my arms, I realised that she was not a doll at all, she was the Madonna. With that realisation I felt she and I became one, we merged. I thought: “This is how it feels to embody Madonna, to carry Goddess.” I shifted her position, I held her upright now, facing the world, and together we continued up the lane. There I saw the retreat-leader for the first time wholly, he sat on his hunches in a cafe at Chalice Well, inviting us to come in and dance.
Of course this was a dream. I dreamed this dream at the beginning of May, the month of Mary. Neem Karoli Baba, thank you for building a bridge for my friend to make it possible for her to reach the other side and for me to meet Madonna.