Category: Dreams

A Short Dream…

I went into a square space, modern but sparse, where small desks lined the walls. Windows were there but closed, the lighting was good.

It was very busy. I set down my laptop bag and set up to work. In many ways, this was just like going into the coffee shop to work, sans coffee and food. I found an open space. To my left, a young girl was set up with her laptop and focused on it.

I set up my laptop and went to work on my novel. After a short period, two very young girls came in. One looked Japanese.

Walking over they stopped behind me and stared at me. I glanced back several times, wondering who they were and what was going on.

Then they moved over to the young woman to my left. They seemed to know each other. I continued working.

One little girl tapped me on the shoulder. I turned with a questioning look. She said, “We like to play without making noise.”

I was like, “What?”

The young woman on her computer said, “She said, we like to play without making noise.”

Which didn’t explain anything.

The first little girl said, “You’re making noise.”

I asked, “What noise am I making?”

Then I awoke.

Thinking over the dream, I realized that my breathing was noisy and wondered if that’s what the little girl meant. But then I thought, no, this is real life. I wasn’t making a noise in the dream.

After being awake a bit and thinking about it, I returned to the dream.

Now the room was empty except for the one girl working on her laptop. I went to pack my gear but couldn’t find my laptop bag. I recalled where I’d put it when I came in, that it was sort of chaotic at that point and I had to find a place for it.

It’d apparently been moved. I located it beneath some clutter but when I went to get it, several young boys threw themselves on top of the junk on top of my bag, thwarting me. I eventually explained what was going on and get the bag. I found the whole thing funny.

I then went out to another part. They were being set up for a fair or a show. It was messed up in one corner where a young woman was trying to do one thing and a middle-aged man with a ladder was trying to do something else. Seeing what needed to be done, I stepped in and helped.

The young woman was immediately grateful. The man appreciated what I did but his temper was on edge from something else happening. He snapped out at other people who were in the way of him maneuvering his large ladder. I patted his shoulder in empathy, and he gave me a short smile.

He finally left with the ladder. I helped the woman return a small table to where it needed to be and reset a few things that were on display. A green awning was sagging down. She was trying to adjust it so I helped. When she did, I saw dirt fall out of it onto the display, so I shook out the awning out further away from the display but hadn’t thought about where the dirt would fall instead.

Leaning over a railing, I tried to see if it hit anything.

Dream end.

PS – I had another short dream where I had my eyes closed. Suddenly, I could see through my eyelids, startling me awake.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon — Thursday, February 19, 2026.

More snow was falling and an inch accumulated. 35 degrees F, sunshine emerged, the snow stopped, and today’s accumulation melted off the streets. We still have several inches in the yard but the roads are clear. Today’s high will be 41 among expectations that more snow flurries are due.

My cold is so much better today. I slept terrific, straight through about five and a half hours. Didn’t get up to pee, blow my nose or take meds, or read a text, stacking small victories.

As I reflected on my cold, I thought about how long it was lasting and remembered reading about a virulent strain going around the region.

I began exploring my cold as a vehicle for reacting to life. Some with the cold would rush to the medical facilities for help. Others would take no protections and keep working either because they financially needed to or they wanted others to catch the cold so we could develop ‘herd immunity’.

A faction might use the cold as a launching pad to campaign against our modern diets and processed foods. Others might see the cold as proof that our society is over-vaccinated. I think a sector would call it a warning to get closer to mother nature, and another group would decree that the cold and its spread is due to modern stress weakening our systems and high population densities.

In truth, I suspect the cold and its spread has some truth in all of these things. Our modern life feels like it makes everything monolithic when there are so many nuances and variables involved.

Mom’s saga continues in Pittsburgh, PA. Sis sent out alarming emails at 4 AM eastern time about her anger at Mom and how she wasn’t going to do this and that. The tone worried me. Sis is Mom’s primary engine at this point and if she quit on behalf of Mom, team Mom would be seriously depleted.

But that rant seemed to help her because this morning, she was more methodical and very calm, checking out assistance living places, talking to the social worker, etc. I let out a huge sigh of relief.

Riding some dream energy. The Neurons noticed and fed the morning mental music stream with The War on Drugs and “Red Eyes” from 2013. Its vibe suits my mood.

Lyrics h/t to Genius.com

[Verse 1]
Come and see
Where I witness everything
On my knees
You beat it down to get to my soul
Against my will
Anyone could tell us you’re coming
Baby don’t mind
Leave it on the line, leave it hanging on a rail

[Verse 2]
Come and ride away
It’s easier to stick to the old
Surrounded by the night
Surrounded by the night, and you don’t give in
But you abuse my faith
Losing every time but I don’t know where
You’re on my side again
So ride the heat wherever it goes
I’ll be the one to care, woo!

Hope you have some strong, positive energy today and it takes you to good places. Until later. Cheers

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Amazing Chakra Dream

Here’s what I remember of this dream — but I ‘sense’ there was something more before this part.

A light purple light flashed, almost like lightning.

I said to myself, I need to align and balance my chakras.

Then I said, no, I need to heal my chakras.

Instantly, I was at the beginning of this huge music festival. The sun was shining. Young, I was part of a crowd of hundreds of thousands eagerly rushing in to hear the music, which was just beginning on stage.

I woke up thinking, wow. My entire body felt like it’d been given a huge boost of energy.

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A Classroom Dream

I arrived with another man — my boss — and parked in a parking garage. The car, like others there, was a mid-1960s vintage. Windows were left open so cars could stay cool, a precaution in those pre-AC days.

My boss and I were going to a conference together, meeting our team. When we went in, we learned that we would be learning about and practicing Statistical Process Control. I already knew SPC so I decided to duck out. Taking a long piece of brown cardboard from a window, I returned to my car, put the cardboard over the windshield, and napped.

Waking up later, I realized I’d overslept. Jumping out of the car, I literally ran into my boss. He said, “I’m off now, have a good weekend,” and trotted away.

Hot, I decided to strip off my clothes, leaving only my shoes on, and entered the classroom. Everyone else in there were women. They all noticed that I was naked but nobody said anything.

As I started walking through, a woman called me over to chat with me along with several other women. She was showing us her marvelous new material, which could be used on tables or floors. It seemed odd to me to be doing that then but I looked at her samples. All were bright and colorful, and very shiny, with pieces of different colored tiles embedded in them. As I looked, she asked me, “What would you choose for your floor, Michael?”

At that point, someone else called for my attention. I began walking away but called back, “My floor would be light gray but very shiny.”

Sitting down at a desk, I listened to our team lead, speaking at the front and realized they were finishing an exercise. Deciding that I wasn’t comfortable being naked, I went back to another part and discreetly put on a casual shirt and shorts. Then I went back.

The class was ending. I stepped outside into sunshine and wondered what I should do.

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A Short Sports Dream

The dream was short. I think it was about sports but it might have been about business. It’s not that clear.

What is clear is that a large group of people went to a place. I was part of them. Arriving there, they spontaneously arranged themselves into two groups. I knew all of the people there although I can’t relate them to real-life individuals.

Arranged into groups, they all sit or squat down but I’m still standing. I’m irritated because none of them seem to know what to do. I begin speaking while walking from one group to the other. “We have three things we must do,” I tell them. I name the three things but I don’t remember them now. Then I ask, “Where do you want to start?”

I hear snickering from both groups. I know they think I’m taking charge, just as I ‘always do’. I don’t want to be that person. Exasperation growing, I tell them, “It’s up to guys to do something.” Then I walk off, alone.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Wednesday, February 11, 2026, and it feels like spring is launching in Ashland. Let’s call it a false spring. 51 F with unchallenged blue skies and sunshine, 60 F is the expected high. Papi would be so happy, except a balmy breeze, which chases him back inside to nap his misery away.

I have dental surgery tomorrow, disrupting the normal flow, and spent time this morning responding to texts about Mom’s mental issues. Connecting dots, my thoughts turned toward an overheard conversation from yesterday.

Sitting in the coffee shop, typing and thinking, two women of about my age shared a table to my right. Music and conversations were cooking but now the room was empty. The two women’s conversation floated to me through the sudden quiet.

One chatted for a while about health concerns regarding her mother, daughter, and herself. The tone changed a little as the other one talked about her concerns over Trump’s policies, ICE, and the general news tone, which she referenced as ‘disturbing’.

The first woman agreed with her and they both addressed concerns about being tired and depressed. Then they touched hands and smiled, telling each other how much it meant to meet and have moments like this.

I studiously tried to stay out of their circle. But one glanced at me and smiled as they rose to leave. Smiling back, I said, “I hope you have a beautiful day.” Thanking me, she wished the same for me.

Their conversation resonated because it feels like an echo of my life, and other people I know. We’re all sailors trying to navigate change. Some of it is about aging, maturing, dying, not necessarily depressing but certainly generally somber matters. Norms for me and them are shifting, and so are expectations. Our emotions become compressed under the loads we carry.

With all that rolling through me, along with dreams, The Neurons’ morning mental music stream offering is Harry Styles singing, “As It Was”.

Chorus

In this world, it’s just us
You know it’s not the same as it was
In this world, it’s just us
You know it’s not the same as it was
As it was, as it was
You know it’s not the same

That about sums up my reflections this morning: it’s not the same.

Hope peace and grace find and carry you forward into a better future.

Cheers

1

A Traveling Dream, and Other Snippets

Dreamed I was going to a camp. Just a small sort of outdated place, with low wood-framed buildings painted brown or dark red, with a flat, slanted roof. A woman I’d just met was going with me, along with her sister.

We arrived in a 1970s era dark Dodge Charger or Ford Torino. I was driving and it was night when we arrived. The sisters had no place to sleep. I told them they could share my bed or sleep in the car, or I could sleep in the car, but I didn’t really want to. They ended up sleeping with me, one on either side.

Later, we got up to go find food and ran into other people I casually knew. They had soup and bread. We asked where they got it and headed toward a little shack they indicated. It was a dark place with a low ceiling, where we discovered we needed to pay in marks. I didn’t have any marks so the sister paid a 1,000 marks for food for me.

We ate and then separated. I wandered, exploring, following winding dirt paths between the buildings and trees at this tiny resort. Night was falling and I didn’t have any marks, so I didn’t know what to do. I did have dollars but not a large amount.

It was dark. I went back to my car. Another car, very like it, was parked beside it. Both with nose in, the rear ends toward me. As I reached my car, I looked over to the other car and saw the sisters sitting in it. I wondered if they’d gotten into the wrong car by mistake.

Dream end.

This was one of three dreams remembered from last night, but the most coherent and lucid.

Can’t recall much of the other two dreams. They’re shifting, like almost there, not quite remembered or forgotten. The strongest of the two had me carrying baking tins. Something finished was in it but I don’t know what. Others were doing the same. Many of the others looked like me but were slightly different. When I offered my baking tin, I saw that their offering was fully risen and mine was flat. I went off, got another like magic, and it was full. I went to give it to someone else, but discovered it was flat again. All of this took place outside in bright sunshine on a calm day.

The main thing I remember from the third dream was that I was happy and laughing a lot. And younger, but an adult.

Ah, night work.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Tuesday, February 10, 2026, finds Ashland reunited with sunshine. White and grey faintly marble a powerful blue sky with 44 degrees F on the thermometer.

All is not well, as Papi pointed out. Hustling in from outside, he turned and snapped a sharp meow at the wind. Winds are at the evilest of the evil, in the ginger wonder’s opinion. After cleaning the wind off him, he curled up, pacifying his sour mood with a nap.

Hard to think that we’re already ten days into February. 2026 has no speed governor and the days seem like they’re tearing along. It already feels like the month was a year with everything going on. Trump’s hold seems diminished, and that appears reflected in less violence, although his hate remains turned up.

We’re still awaiting many outcomes. The Trump Effect of transforming things to trash has hold of the crypto market and the US dollar is losing value. Part of the White House is literally demolished. The full revelations of Trump’s multiple appearances in the Epstein files is still snaking to the surface.

Yet, the Roberts Court somehow hasn’t announced an announcement about the Trump tariffs legality, even though arguments were heard months ago. It’s almost like they’re stalling.

In hilarious news, Senator Rick Scott, a strong Trump supporter, insisted that US Olympian daring to employ their freedom of speech to criticize the nation should be stripped of their uniform because the United States a ‘beacon of freedom and democracy’. Apparently, what he’s saying hasn’t sunk into the Florida senator’s brain.

And despite the speed of the month, we’re still awaiting the official jobs report, which was due last week.

With all that going on, Trump’s approval ratings are going down like the Titanic. It’s almost like a spell has broken.

And that transports me to today’s music.

The Neurons have “I Put A Spell On You” playing in my morning mental music stream. The song was originally called up in response to a dream about discovering someone had cursed me. As I thought about the day’s news headlines and Trump’s activities, I thought the song fit the need as Tuesday’s theme music. There are several wonderful covers of this song but I’m going with the one which surfaced in my head first, the CCR version.

Once more into the day. I hope that peace and grace bring you fair winds and good news.

Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

February 7, 2026. Ashland greets me and Saturday with overcast skies and 47 F. Yes, will it rain, snow? Not cold enough for the latter, it’s been a month since significant rain fell.

Today’s high will be in the mid-fifties and precipitation isn’t forecast for today. A Facebook graphic (posted at the bottom) gives visuals to our worries. We keep reminding ourselves, it’s still only February.

Playing with dreams, interacting with Papi, reading the news, and waiting for updates from sis occupies my morning. Papi remains a positive, casual spirit, slipping by my legs in an orange-fur kiss. Dreams are erotic and intriguing.

The news, ah. I enjoy reviews of how insipid the “Melania” documentary seems. Emerging as a vehicle to support Trump’s spin that Melania is so smart and interesting, the quotes and stills reminds me of how flat and empty she always appears.

The documentary set a record for opening day box office receipts for that category. Anecdotally, the theaters have been almost empty. Online, Rotten Tomatoes is a perfect metaphor for this era, critics there granting the movie an 8% approval while ‘audiences’ give it 99%.

That’s so perfectly aligned with this era.

Over in life with Mom, Mom is going through another breakdown. Sis recorded one of the conversations she and Mom had, when sis delivered Mom dinner.

Mom refused to eat and kept telling sis, “You’re not the boss of me.” The split arose because a nurse is coming to see Mom. Mom wanted more time to get ready but Sis works and had to be there to meet the nurse and let her in. Mom needed more time because she wants to hide her medication collection and clean herself up. Mom also accused sis of poisoning her.

Sis couldn’t change plans. Mom spent the night crying and moaning, “I don’t want to be here,” curling up at 6:30 this morning to go to sleep. The nurse was due at 10. The appointment should have taken place; I’m awaiting reports.

In reporting, though, I’ve noticed subtle shifts in sis’s attitude towards Mom. She’s become more reflective, tolerant, and patience.

UPDATE: Sis explained all to the nurse and suggested it sounds like — drum roll — dementia. It was an anti-climatic moment. She suggested Mom needs to see a neurologist. Also — Mom may have a UTI. That wouldn’t be a surprise.

I end up with “Heaven” by the Talking Heads in my morning mental music stream, a quiet little song about a place everyone wants to reach, where they do — nothing but chill. Relax. And like that, The Neurons summon Frankie Goes to Hollywood. Hah!

Hope your day is joyous, and satisfying to you in meaningful ways. I’ll take what I can get, here and now, and try to move on to something better.

Cheers

3

The Brown Cougar Dream

My wife and I arrived at a resort hotel, meeting our friend, Bob and his wife. Real-life note: this is not the same Bob from my previous dreams, but a friend and co-worker from my military days. The wife in this dream wasn’t his real-life wife.

Bob, who was prematurely bald, had thick black in the dream. My wife and I had just arrived. Bob and his wife came by to greet us and make plans.

I noticed some filth on the ceiling. It disgusted me so I looked for something to clean it up. I found some spray and sprayed it all over but then needed a ladder and rag. A young hotel worker asked me what I was doing. I explained myself. He shook his head and reassured me, “Don’t worry about it, we have it covered. It’s not your problem.”

I went back into the room and noticed the spray had already made the ceiling mess almost invisible.

Bob and I ended up outside, where it was like a desert after a rainstorm. He was carrying a young animal he’d rescued. Noticing a young brown cougar down the hill, I followed behind Bob to protect him from the cougar and found a large stick to use as a weapon.

Waiting on a porch for Bob’s return, I saw the cougar watching me. As that registered, the cougar approached. Raising the stick, I yelled and made myself big.

Sitting down, the cougar asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m making myself big and making noises to scare you away.”

The cougar chuckled. “Did you really think that was going to work?”

“That’s what they tell us to do.”

“Anyway, you’re safe for now,” the cougar said, “but you scheduled to die tomorrow, and I’ll eat you.”

I was appalled and vowed not to let that happen.

The cougar shrugged. “It’s going to happen. It’s on the schedule.” He indicated a bright pink and blue poster. I read the poster but saw nothing about my death on it.

Back in the hotel room, I showered and cleaned up. Bob came by to see if I was ready. I told him that I needed to shower. I took off my clothes and stepped into the shower and then realized, what am I doing? I already showered.

I was now naked downstairs and needed to up to my room. Entering the stairwell, I caught a reflection of myself and found I was astonishingly good-looking — much younger, lean and muscular, with a thick head of dark brown hair swept to one side. As I started up the steps, a young woman entered.

“Eek,” she said, pretending to turn away. Covering her face with a hand, she looked at me between her fingers. “A naked man.”

I laughed and apologized, continuing up the steps, and encountered another woman. “Locked out without your clothes?” she mused.

“Yes, that’s what happened.”

She chuckled. “We’ve all been there.”

Now dressed, I joined Bob and our wives in another area of the resort. I saw the brown cougar in the crowd, watching me. I realized that I’d forgotten something in the room and needed to go back. Bob drew up a complex map, showing me where we were and how to get back to my room, 1004, at the top of the building. Although his map was detailed, I felt bewildered and said, “I’ll never find my way back through that maze.”

Bob said, “Alright, let me go with you, at least part of the way, until you know where you’re at.”

Dream end.

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