Category: Dreams

Sketchy Superhero Dream

I only retain a few main points of a sketchy superhero dream.

I was a superhero but have no idea what my powers were. I was using my powers to do good but what I remember of that is basically see headlines mentioning that I’d done something. You know, the headline said, “Child Saved”, with a photo of me as a superhero beside it.

The superhero organization reached out to me to help me advance and explain how it works. Apparently, I could gain others’ superpowers by defeating them. These were superheroes beyond their prime. They could help others advance and become stronger by giving them their powers when they were defeated. These aging superheroes didn’t mind doing that because they’d recover their powers and do it again.

It was sketchy to me. I struggled to comprehend. To add more confusion, the man from the organization explained to me that these aging superheroes often had multiple names and entities so they could give their powers away more often.

Huh?

Yes. All they did was add a letter or suffice to the beginning. So, I could defeat the superhero Reinaman.

Reinaman?

I recalled Reinaman in his old red and yellow costume. I didn’t recall his powers or why I would want to defeat him and take his powers.

The guy said, Reinaman was also Areinaman, Ireinaman, Preinaman, and Zedreinaman. Those are the examples I remember. The last one, Zedreinaman, sounded like the name of a flower to me, I told the rep.

That wasn’t important. Do you get the idea?

Yes, I got the idea but I remained confused. As instructed, though, I started doing this, and gained stature by defeating Ireinaman and Reinaman.

“Now you get it,” the superhero org rep said.

No, I didn’t.

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Dreams of Change

Last night’s dreams were all about change. Of what I remember, one was a vignette where I made coin change for people, including my wife and other family members. Another sequence featured me searching for and trying to change my clothes, which originally were white and light gray, and then trying to change my shoes. That moved into me trying to change the cat kibble, and being totally confused about what I was doing and why I was doing it. An additional series had me helping others change things. In one, I helped my father and friends trying to change a tire.

They’re laughable in the morning light. I realized that each scene and story shared elements.

  1. I was confused about what I was doing and why I was doing it.
  2. In the end, nothing that I set about changing required changed.

It was amazing. I’d make change for peoples’ dollars, and then they’d discover that they had the right change and didn’t need anything. They’d thank me and move on, leaving me standing there with change. The tire that we were trying to change was okay, just a little low on air, giving us a laugh. My clothes were the best choice, so I ended up not changing them, and the people with the other clothes suggestion left, and the cat kibble bowls were full, and the cats were eating them, so, confused, I realized, nothing was required of me.

Hmm, I wonder what message I’m trying to convey to myself with this night of cryptic dreams?

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Another Anxiety Dream

It was another anxiety work dream last night, and I don’t even work! I haven’t been employed for several years after working for IBM for fifteen. I’ve been doing nothing but pursing the writing dream since then, after postponing that goal for a few decades.

The dream found me with two co-workers. I don’t recognize them from my life. The three of us were dressed in business suits with shirts and ties, the kind of attire I wore when I was in marketing. We were at a big convention to get some work, the kind of function that I was forced to endure, and that I hated. It was a familiar setting, a large but crowded and noisy ballroom in a hotel or convention center filled with tables with white tablecloths and napkins, and pseudo-fine china and flatware.

I don’t know what business the three of us were in but we were there to network and generate some leads so we could have an income. While we were talking, they informed me that I’d paid for the previous night’s meal. They were dismissive when they told me this, without humor or sympathy. They said that I had insisted.

Well, the bill was for over five hundred and fifty dollars. I’d put it on my Amex.

Horrified and shocked, I couldn’t believe what I’d done, and I didn’t remember doing it. Panic and anxiety filled me. This is when it got twisted.

I don’t have an Amex. I gave that up a few years ago. I never wore a suit and tie while I worked at IBM. (My marketing roles were with a couple previous start-ups.) Meanwhile, in the dream, I now worried that my employer, IBM, wouldn’t pick up that tab. Hell, that was completely against their policies, and I knew it. But I didn’t understand why I thought IBM still employed me even while I was there as an independent contractor, trying to generate business.

I was also sick with worry in the dream because my wife would be furious, because she knew IBM wouldn’t pay for it, so I’d need to eat that bill and pay for it myself. Funny, but in reality, that’s the sort of thing that she would shrug off, should it have happened.

Anxiety, frustration, confusion, worry, and fear. This dream had it all. Waking up and thinking about it, I knew it stemmed from my writing. I’m reaching the end of the beta version of the series, and I’m worried that all this was for naught, that I suck as a writer and story-teller, and have no creativity.

You know, just the typical writing angst.

With all of its elements, I recognized what it was all about, and laughed at how my mind works. The dream was beneficial, because it feels like a storm has blown through, leaving me relaxed and ready to write.

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That Nightmare

I was in conversation with the barista today when I flashed back to an early nightmare.

I lived on McNary Blvd in Wilkinsburg, PA. I think I was around eight or nine years old. I’d stayed up watching “Chiller Theater” with Bill Cardille on which I was able to see the original version of the movie, The Fly, which came out in 1958 (yeah, I looked it up). A horror film, I thought it was pretty damn entertaining.

Naturally, though, it played with my mind, resulting in a nightmare. In the nightmare, I stuck my toe into an outlet by my bed, shocking myself. Upon walking, I discovered it was storming outside. The lightning flashes did an excellent job of twisting the bedroom furniture into other beings. I was positive that the chest of drawers was a robot walking toward me.

I remember, too, Mom telling me to keep it down, or I’ll wake the baby. Ah, good times!

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A Dream So Powerful

Last night’s main dream started out exhausting. I think of it as the main dream because I seem to recall snippets of other dreams. I know from other times that I often have several dreams that I remember in a night.

This one was the last dream of the night. I know that because I awoke from it, and it was morning. Like many recent dreams, chaos flushed the first part. I found myself in a crowd. It was extremely noisy. Everyone was walking, including me, but anxiety suffused me from a dozen different issues. First, I panicked about having my laptop with me. Then, after a weird struggle of turning around and looking for it, I discovered I was carrying a bag. Stepping to one side, I opened the bag and confirmed my laptop was inside.

One problem was solved, but now I worried about the date and time. I started walking again, but I seemed to be walking against the stream of people. Making eye contact with others, I asked them, “What time is it,” or “What’s the date?” Some answered, but I couldn’t understand or hear the answers.

That cranked my anxiety to higher levels. Around that time, I found myself at a crossroads between several corridors. Walls and windows were on either side. I realized that I was in an airport. It shocked me that I was in an airport without knowing it. Then I remembered that I’d flown in. Knowing that, I realized I needed to get my bags and leave the airport.

Nothing made sense in the airport, though. The signs seemed contradictory, and it was more crowded and noisier than before. People jostled me and ran into me, pissing me off. Somehow, I found the baggage area, got my bags, and left.

I needed to go to a hotel. I thought it was close and decided to walk. With a hot, humid, and sunny day outside, I was soon sweat covered. My feet hurt, and I was tired and thirsty. I also wasn’t sure where I was going, stopping to look at signs several times. I remember thinking, I wish I had a map, and I remember thinking about setting up my computer and trying to get online to find where I was.

I didn’t do that, though. I kept deciding which way to to and walking. Eventually, I realized that I was close to the ocean, and that’s where my hotel was. That excited me and gave me new hope. Seeing a sign for the beach, I went that way.

The beach wasn’t busy. It was flat, with white sand, and a bright blue sea. Walking toward the crashing waves with my luggage, I reveled in the smell, sight, and sound, and then stopped to enjoy it. There was a large rock off the coast about a hundred yards. I thought I recognized from my travels, but I couldn’t place it.

Looking back, I noticed a man in a black suit with a white shirt and a blue tie step onto the beach. I thought it was strange beach apparel, and that a suit was too hot for this weather. No one else was on the beach, so I wondered what he was doing.

I realized he was coming toward me. His approach made me anxious. I didn’t know him or what he wanted. Coming close, he called me by name, and said, “I’m glad I found you. We’re ready to start.”

“Okay,” I answered.

He took my luggage but I kept my laptop. “Is it far?” I asked.

“No, it’s just up here, around the corner,” he said.

I felt good because that meant that I’d been going in the right direction even though I’d been clueless.

We went around the corner of a building. I realized it was my hotel. But we didn’t go there, which surprised me. Without saying anything, the man in the suit led me across the street. People were lined up by a building. As I approached, some clapped. That confused me, and then some engaged me. I realized from talking with a few and looking around that they had a book that I’d authored, and were talking to me about it. They wanted me to sign it. So I stopped and started signing books and talking to people.

The man in the suit tried interceding. “We should go inside,” he told me. “It’s time to start.”

Apologizing to the people, I followed him, and then woke up.

Surprise and confusion filled me when I woke up. I knew where I was, but I didn’t think I should be there. Sitting up, I looked for my laptop bag, panicking when I didn’t see it, and then sought the man in the suit. As I didn’t see him, either, I realized that I’d been dreaming.

It astonished me because it felt so real. After thinking about it, I decided, what a hopeful, wishful dream.

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The Cat Dream

Seems inevitable that I’d have a dream about cats. Four cats deign to let me live in the house with them. All were strays or left another house by their choice to come live with me. Besides them, Pepper from next door stays on our porch and wants me to feed her (which I do), and two other neighbor cats seek me for hand-outs. I’m a soft touch.

But when I started writing about the cat dream, I concluded the dream wasn’t about cats. They were symbols being used. The words I chose to explain what was happening indicated the dream was about other things.

It was another dream of chaos (like, straight out of the courts). So much was going on, and my dream started in the middle of it. I was carrying a cat (not one that I have, nor have ever had) from one end of a busy, hectic place, to another. People kept calling me over to come and see or do something, or help them out. I ended up multi-tasking, and ending up losing the cat.

Now the dream became a story about a flooftective. Calling the cat, asking others if they’d seen her, I walked around shaking a kibble box, my agenda re-arranged. Thinking I’d heard it back by my place, I went there.

The dream gets weird. My place didn’t have walls, but was framed for walls. Doors and windows had been installed, but there wasn’t a ceiling. There was a fireplace, and a wall-less bathroom. Instead of using it, I chose to go up the hill to a public restaurant, clean, but not convenient.

My place was also unbelievably disorganized, with boxes strewn about, including empty cracker boxes. Anyone who knows me will recognize how different that is from my real life.

Without walls, people walked in and out of my place at will, exasperating me. I became stern about stopping people as they did that. A cat fight erupted, distracting me again. As I hunted down those involved, I discovered a cat that wasn’t mine as at the fight’s center. He looked like my current cat, Tucker, with thick, black and white fur and a bushy tail. As I was talking to this cat, asking, “Who are you?” in a calm voice, I heard a woman calling for Harold. While I called over to her, asking if her cat was black and white, the black and white cat left. I decided it was probably Harold.

The dream, or my memory of it, ended.

***

Writing about the dream, I found myself using expressions like ‘multi-tasking’.  I ended up applying it to my writing efforts.

Other clues were there, like being side-tracked, the missing walls, and the sense of chaos and disorganization. See, while writing this series this week, I became diverted into a fifth book in it. I soon recognized it would be a stand-alone novel that shared the concept and setting, much like the relationship between The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Then, I realize how much I enjoy the creative side of writing. I dislike the rest of it. I don’t mind editing and revising – that’s like solving puzzles – but the business side is anathema to me. So, if I don’t finish, I’m working on a series, but there’s no pressure to finish and publish.

Cunning, aren’t I?

So, after thinking of the dream and situation, I knew that I had to stop working on the new, fifth novel, and finish the original series as envisioned. I can later go back to the fifth novel, if I want.

Right?

Right.

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A Superpower Dream

I dreamed I had superpowers. The background of how I acquired them wasn’t explained.

The dream begins with me in the ocean on a clear, sunny day. The ocean is calm. Without knowing how, I’m on the ocean’s surface, but dry, and discover, hey, I have powers. Exploring that a little more, I discover that I can transform things.

Shouting reaches me. There’s been a disaster. People need help. With some listening and investigating, I learn that refugees at sea are on a sinking ship. They’re going to drown.

I tell everyone, don’t worry. I can transform things. Nobody understands what I’m talking about. It’s not important that they understand. I know what I can do, and I do it. Like friggin’ magic, because I don’t know what I transformed, the refugees are saved.

Everyone is astonished. “How did you do that?” people are asking. I tell them, “I told you that I can transform things.” Understanding begins to dawn in some.

Arriving somewhere else, where it’s dark and sinister, I met with other people and explain my power. A woman accosts me. I know who she is in the dream; basically, she’s evil incarnate. She’s there to trick me into helping her so that she can destroy me. Yes, I know this.

“I know who you are,” I said. “And I’m not playing games.” She’s sitting on a wall with her legs crossed. A shiny red mask covers her face. “I’m going to destroy you,” I said.

She chuckled with doubt. I transformed her into something that I can break but the transform doesn’t hold. She’s too strong. But I know that I can keep transforming her, but I must be fast, to keep her off-balance. So I continue transforming her until she’s a fly.

She flies off. I can’t track her but someone else tells me, “I saw her land and squashed her.” He points to a fly smashed on a wall. I look at the spot and see pieces of a red mask. Accepting it’s her, I clean her body off the wall with a paper towel and throw her away.

Back somewhere else, I’m trying to explain to people how I transform things, and do demonstrations. During these, I begin learning that the more complicated something is, the more difficult the challenge of transforming it, and that it won’t stay transformed long. That’s especially true with mechanical and electronic devices, and less so with organics. It’s a lesson in limitations that I need to remember.

That’s where the dream ends.

What a fun dream, to transform things and help others.

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The Try Again Dream

The dream’s setting was a chaotic quilt of thunder and lightning, and wind and rain as screaming and shouting people rushed around me. Through it all, I didn’t know where I was or what was going on. Sometimes I’d recognize someone and try to ask them, “What’s going on?”

Nobody would stop to tell me. I started trying to figure it out by myself, but I couldn’t find any clues. With a little walking on a narrow trail, I found myself in a forest. The wind was bending the trunks over, and the branches thrashed like grappling wrestlers. Sometimes the wind was so strong that all I could do was find a branch and hold on as the wind hammered me. Lightning seemed to be striking some trees, too. I decided that I needed to get out of there. Although branches slammed into my head and back several times, I bent my head and kept going.

I realized that I was going up. It was hard, because it was wet and slick, but I felt like that was the best direction to take. I often had to grab hold of branches and use them to pull me forward. During the final part, I ended up crawling forward on my hands and knees. After some exhaustive struggling, I cleared the trees.

Spent and breathing hard, I looked around. I was high on top of a granite mountain. It was bare. There was nothing to hold onto. I was afraid that the wind would sweep me away, but I was determined to stay there and learn what was going on. Other than the wind, I realized I was now mostly above the storm. With a little straining to see through the storm, I got glimpses of waves crashing far below in one direction. Almost everyone was heading that way.

Not thinking it was safe because it was so steep, I didn’t want to go that way, and did a full circle in place on the mountain top, hunting for somewhere else to go. I found a calm area in another direction where sunshine was spread over a green slope. I thought, that’s where I want to be, but it wouldn’t be easy to get there. Mountains, storms, and forests were in the way.

As I debated what to do, I looked back toward the beach where the others had gone. Something prompted me to look that way, but I can’t say what it was. What I saw, though, was a rising tsunami wave rushing toward the shore. Appearing like something copied from a disaster movie, I could see people thronging on the beach. I realized that they were all in danger, but I had no way to warn them. I tried shouting because it was the only thing that I could think of doing.

Then I realized, I could fly down. All I needed to do was throw myself into the air, and I could fly down to the beach and warn everyone. Looking at the approaching wave’s speed, I thought I could get down there with enough time to at least give people a chance. Yet, I hesitated because I would need to fly through the storm, and that was dangerous. I wanted to take myself out of danger.

With growing understanding that I could fly wherever I wanted or needed to go, I looked at the calm, sunny green space. Going there appealed to me. I could fly to it, but that would mean abandoning the people on the beach, and as much as I hated it, I couldn’t do that.

Searching the mountain top, I found a cliff where I thought it would be best to launch myself. A howling wind pushed me around. Heart hammering in my chest, I tried diving off. The wind threw me back onto the ground, driving me backward like a candy bar wrapper. Scrabbling to hold on, I dug my fingers into the ground and held on until I stopped.

Deciding the cliff might not be the best place, I checked other places to launch, but it seemed like my first choice was best. Accepting that, I planted myself about twenty feet back from the cliff’s edge and waited. When I felt like the wind’s strength had dropped, I ran forward and dove off the cliff.

The wind slammed into me like it had been waiting to ambush me, and pitched me against the granite mountainside. I managed to catch myself before the impact and lessened it some, but it still hurt like hell. That was a bad idea, I thought, and then, surveying where I was, realized that my position was precarious. I couldn’t climb down. I had to either climb back up, or try to fly from there.

Aware that I was high and it was a long way down to the forested mountainside, I thought it would be best to climb back up to where I’d been. But now rain lashed me. Swearing at myself for my stupidity, I grew hopeless. Nothing I could think of was going to work. I’d blown my one chance, but I hadn’t known that it was my one chance.

With all that going through my head, I saw myself in my mind. The me in my mind said, “Don’t worry. Try again.”

He sounded so confident, but it seemed so crazy that I scoffed at him, demanding, “How?”

He – me – answered, “Try again.”

His response didn’t inspire me, but I decided what the fuck. After positioning myself among the crags and rocks the best that I could, I threw myself off the mountain. Within a moment, I knew I wasn’t flying, and flailed at the air in fear and panic.

Then the wind calmed. It almost felt like a hand lifting me up. After a few moments of surprised thinking, I realized that I was flying.

Growing calmer and feeling more in control, I changed my body’s pitch so that I could climb higher, see where I was, and find the people on the beach.

That’s when I awoke to a cat’s whiskers against my cheek.

2

The House Dream

My wife and I were just moving into a beautiful new home that was on the beach. Leaving the living room, I entered a courtyard that was part of my home. Cross it and go out a gate, and I was on the beach, about two hundred yards away from the waterline. I was quite happy with it.

Early parts of the dream were involved in moving in new power supplies. My wife had never heard of them. I had to explain that the small, red devices that I was sitting up in different places would supply all the electricity we needed. About the size of a plug-in air freshener or a night light, they had an innocuous small body. I was setting up two per room.

Besides that, we discovered a litter of kittens in our courtyard. We went to meet them. They took off in every direction, but we coaxed them back. Soon they were coming into the house to visit us.

Our new neighbors invited us to a party at their house so we could meet everyone in the neighborhood. They were ebullient and friendly people. Introducing themselves, each invited us for tours of their homes. We soon discovered our neighbors were wealthy and accomplished people.

I became envious of their places. While our house was nice, their houses were better. No one ever said anything, though, and they were all eager to meet me, the gifted writer, and talk to me. One in particular was a Jeff Goldblum look-alike. Telling us, “I want to spring some ideas on you, and hear your ideas, so we can partner together on some things,” he invited us to his house.

We met in his courtyard. It seemed huge, to the tune of about five thousand square feet. Filled with furniture that formed dining areas and conversation pits, the courtyard was attached to his large, red house. It looked like it was four stories tall.

The J.G. doppelganger was cordial, friendly, and energetic, but he had a weird affliction. Sometimes, he would stop and burst out in uncontrollable laughter. It was strange to see. Once I became used to it, it was okay, but it really bothered my wife. As we sat with the J.G. double drinking on his deck, I decided, I wanted a bigger and better house.

The dream ended with me telling myself that.

 

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