Category: Dreams

Monday’s Theme Music

April showers are now May showers. May 2, 2022, has brought Monday rain along with the now standard chilly temperature of 42 F. We expect 53 today. Sunrise was in interesting swarming of sunshine among swarming gray clouds and splashes of rain at 6:05. The sun’s daily turn will end at 8:11 this evening.

We had a gorgeous one yesterday, topping 70 F without a cloud in the air. The memorial service, a block party held on the street in front of his house and hosted by his widow, a sweet, retired nurse named Char, was well-attended, friendly, and oddly happy. Maybe it was the weather. Plenty of food was brought and shared. Anecdotes and accolades were dished out. Laughter ensued. Tears were wiped away. Gazes up at the blue sky were noted.

After the service, I returned home, checked today’s weather and went out for yard work. Alas, my string trimmer died on me after I was two-thirds completed. I suspect a switch and have found a video with a possible fix from people reporting the same problem and symptoms. I’ll be pursuing that later today. I’m coming to love DIY.

Today finds the neurons playing “Find Your Way Back” by Jefferson Starship from 1981. Yeah, it’s all mind games, coming about when I came out of a dream during the night. I wanted to find my way back to it and see how it ended. While that’s often successful, I failed this time. The song came out just a month before my wife and I were heading on our first overseas assignment. I’d already been overseas unaccompanied, but this was going to be a three to four year stay on Okinawa. Turned out to be a good one for us.

Anyway, here is the music. Hope you can stay positive and test negative, that you endure and prosper. Hope I can find a cup of coffee somewhere around the house in the next few minutes. I guess I’ll check the kitchen.

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The Conversation Dream

I dreamed I was with a few men speaking with a male teenager. We were all sitting around a table. The young man was talking about a book. He said it was called Halo. He was talking about how it’d come out in 1972, and then commenting, “How can anyone remember anything from then?”

I said, “I read the book when it came out.”

He asked, “How much of it do you remember?”

“Not much. I was about sixteen and in high school. I was reading many books then, and doing sports, and taking classes.”

“That’s my point,” the teenager said. “You can’t remember things from then.”

I answered, “I remember reading Catching in the Rye a few years before that, and Catch 22, and The Hobbit, and Lord of the Rings, Fahrenheit 451, and Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series. I don’t remember Halo.”

The kid said, “I’ve never heard of those books, but I did see Foundation on TV. It was okay.”

Dream end.

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The Mistakes Dream

Okay, another dream that placed me in the military, but I think other aspects have more meaning.

Young, about thirty-eight, the age I was when I retired, I was in a conference room with the commander and several other people. I was wearing my light blue uniform shirt with dark blue pants, standard for the Air Force and office work in those days.

The conference was very nice and modern but for some reason, the commander was upset about three lights in the ceiling. These were back in the middle, by the rear wall. The lights were small, recessed task lights, adjacent to one another, silver. The commander, a colonel, was going on about the lights being useless. “I’m going to prove it,” he shouted, “and get them removed.”

I was listening to this screed with some disdain. I thought the lights could have a use not immediately apparent — otherwise, why install them? — and it wasn’t like it made the room unusable. But I wasn’t interested in arguing with him.

The commander and a group of people left. I stayed, as did a few others, waiting for something else. Bored, I was balancing a hollow cylindrical rod on my palm. This was about three feet long, but six inches in diameter. I decided to push it against the acoustic ceiling tile. To my surprise, it cut out a perfect round hole in the tile.

The others immediately gathered, aghast, asking, “Oh my God, what did you do? Why did you do that?”

I felt more amused than upset with it, but I did immediately start trying to think of a way of covering it up. Several ideas were considered and rejected. I shrugged; the commander would come in and find it, and I’d deal with the fallout. I was almost done here, anyway, due to retire or leave within a few weeks.

Then I noticed that my uniform was screwed up. It wasn’t buttoned right, the right chest pocket was torn and hanging off, and I hadn’t attached my name tag and insignia. I also realized that I needed a haircut; I’d meant to do that and forget.

I told the rest that I need to go. “Why?” they asked. “I need to change my uniform.” I pointed out the problems with it.

The commander returned as I was doing that. He saw the mistakes and shrugged. “Go get it taken care of,” he said.

Dream end.

2

Friday’s Theme Music

The time was checked.

4:14 AM.

About two hours before sunrise.

I listened for noises and heard nothing. One cat was asleep by my head. My wife was asleep. I don’t know the other cat’s whereabouts. He’s still young and likes the night life. I blamed him for whatever noise I’d heard and settled back toward sleep mode, thinking about the dreams I’d been experiencing. Up top was the cow puzzle dream. The neurons began playing “The Midnight Special” by CCR.

Hi. Today is Friday, April 29, 2022. Looks like the perpetual battle between clouds and sunshine is entering another rain. The sun made a bold move, striding in at 6:09 AM, but the clouds have lined up some towering heavies to the northwest. Our temperature is 42 F, but it’s a damp one with the remains of yesterday’s watery hours lending its effect. We expect 65 F as our high before the sun leaves our stage at 8:08 PM.

Thinking about using “The Midnight Special” as today’s theme music, I searched and confirmed that I used it last year on May 10. In the post, I noted that my kidney stone had passed.

I decided to do something other than “The Midnight Special” as today’s theme song. The neurons responded with Shawn Mullins and “California”, a song my spouse actively dislikes. The song was never released as a single that I know but I’ve heard it periodically and enjoy its details about the people and their lives – driving a Trans Am, listening to Bob Dylan, etc., and also enjoy the guitar and organ play, as well as Shawn’s voice. There’s a Tom Petty vibe to Mullins’ music, especially “California”. So here we are.

Stay positive, and so on, for another day, or perhaps another month or year, or more. Coffee is speaking up in the other room. I’m going to go see what it wants. Cheers

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The Cow Puzzle Dream

I was a younger man. At first I saw myself from a distance, trudging over green rolling hills under a cloudy sky, but then I dreamed zoomed in and only saw myself from the waist up, following as I walked.

I was walking among grazing black and white cows. Most ignored me. I wasn’t concerned, and it seemed natural that I walked among cows. Beams of sunshine would sometimes break through and dazzle me, and I’d put a hand up to shield my eyes.

The sense or awareness came over me that this was familiar. Slowing and thinking, I suddenly knew that I was in a jigsaw puzzle. I stopped. My dream camera panned out. I could clearly discern the pieces’ shape. Some were missing.

How, I asked, is that possible? Where were the pieces? I thought the puzzle was completed. Then, I realized with a greater shock, how can the cows be alive, eating, and moving, if it’s a jigsaw puzzle? How could the clouds move and the wind blow? How could I be moving and thinking if I’m in a puzzle?

Dream end, as I woke up.

5

The Waves Dream

I was in water, which seemed to be an ocean or sea. Others were in the water, which was a light aquamarine in color. An azure sky ruled. Waves licked and tumbled over flat, white, sandy beaches.

The warm water wasn’t up to my waist, but reached the bottom of my trunks, which were flowers on dark green. I soon noticed the water was rising. I couldn’t figure out why. Others didn’t seem to notice, or maybe just weren’t commenting. As the water rose over my waist, I decided to go ashore.

I found I couldn’t. The waves weren’t any more threatening but strong currents were dragging me further into the water. It was happening to everyone. All were struggling to keep from being taken out to sea.

I tried fighting the current and lost. Then I thought, maybe I could go with the current and then break free and return to land via another direction. I quickly learned that wasn’t feasible.

The water was up to my neck. It was warm and comfortable but frightening as I coped with a fear that I could drown. I tried again striking out for the shore but ended up with water up to my chin and splashing into my mouth.

I dove under. The water was darker and colder. I kicked out and then started using my arms, swimming underwater, taking whatever the currents let me. I wasn’t sure what direction I was going or where the land was. The water kept growing darker and colder.

I came free. I don’t know how or where. I suddenly found myself striding over volcanic rocks, sputtering water and gasping for air. I was on land but didn’t know how I’d made it. Looking back for the beach, I found it. The water was still that pleasant aquamarine with light waves, but darkening clouds had gathered overhead.

Dream end.

4

A Dream of Nines

Although a military dream, the aspect of nines being repeated struck me more.

The perspective was interesting. I was up above the scene, looking down on everything, following ‘me’ around. I was in the military again, young again, a young NCO again, at a new command post again, and I was nervous. I knew an exercise was kicking off. I worried about being up to it. Being led around the console areas by a young, nervous officer, I was being shown dozens of things simultaneously. Several other controllers were already on duty, tracking aircraft, on the phones with the squadrons and theater headquarters, or on the radio with aircraft or ground operations. A lot was going on and I was a little dizzy with it.

Per standard procedure, the command post was a secure area. A cypher lock was on the door. I’d been given the combination and was walking around repeating it to myself as I took in everything. The numbers were six three one eight. I kept saying them to myself under my breath, “Six three one eight, six three one eight.” Meanwhile, others had come in, taking up positions up in the battle staff and over on the reports console.

Then, as I was listening to the officer, following him, repeating the numbers, I thought, six plus three equals nine. One plus eight equals nine. I looked at the clocks. The local time was almost six AM but it was almost nine PM GMT. The officer said, “It’s going to start at nine Zee.”

That’s nine Zulu, aka, nine GMT. I acknowledged that but thought, “Six plus three equals nine and one plus eight equals nine, and nine plus nine equal eighteen. If you break that down, one plus eight equals nine.”

Looking around, I realized, there were nine people in the sprawling command post now, including me. Then the officer said, “It’s nine Zee, time to begin.” Emergency Action lines began ringing. As controllers turned on the red lights, secured the console zone, and put the EAL on speaker, the officer looked at me and said, “Let’s get started.”

I replied, “Okay.”

Dream end.

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The Refugee Dream

Dreamland has been a busy place for me, but life has been busy, keeping my deeper ruminations about my dreams to minimal levels. Last night’s dream about being a refugee had a sharper feel to it, though.

I was a prisoner along with many others and had been for some time. The dream really began at the end of that incarceration, when we finally found a way past the gates and walls keeping us in captivity. After we came out, blinking because we were seeing the sun for the first time in weeks, we were told by someone anonymous that we were free, and that ‘our side’ had won.

We’d been falsely imprisoned, though, and wanted justice for that. The people who were responsible were eight men. We wanted them found and brought to trial. I was given the task of drawing wanted posters for them.

I protested, I don’t even know how they look. Well, it needed to be done, and I needed to do it, because I was the one who could, I was told.

I found paper, charcoal, and pencils, and began doing sketches, working off other people’s descriptions of the eight. Someone told me about an office where a cache of information was. Going there and rooting around, I found that someone else had already created rudimentary sketches of the eight. I began improving these, shaping and sharpening features, adding details. It all came sharper into mind as I worked.

The people in charge came by to see how I was progressing and were impressed by my work. Looking out, we then saw a bearded man walking past who resembled the number one wanted person on my poster. As word spread that it was him, I held up my poster and looked at him in profile, amazed at how well I’d captured his image.

Dream end

0

A Train Dream

Yeah, I know what train dreams supposedly signify in some circles. This is different. Also, this isn’t about the rock group called Train.

I was high on a hillside. Turning, I looked left over my shoulder and down into a green valley. As I further turned and looked, I saw a city in the green valley. Blmues and silver dominated the city. While I watched, moving closer, I understood that they were trains. What I had first thought of as a network of roads were trains. Trains were going in every direction, at different levels in a beautifully synchronized dance. Most trains were short, with a stubby engine and then two or three long cars, but some trains were ten to twelve cars in length. None seemed like a super train.

For a period, I just watched the trains, getting a feel for their travel, seeing how none touched the ground, that there were no tracks, that areas were set up where the trains stopped, how they didn’t have wheels.

Then, I was down close to the trains, moving toward my train. I knew that no one owned any land. We all lived in trains and stayed on the move. Some trains were full of extended families. You bought an engine and car and added on as the family grew, even incorporating businesses into your train.

Then, dream shift, my wife and I exited our train. It was day, a little cloudy. We were on muddy lowlands by a beach. The tide was out. We planned to go tide pooling. But large black rocks stole my attention. Going up a hill, I discovered it the rock was a statue. More dotted the land. Ah, we’re on Easter Island, I understood.

I hurried back down the hill to tell my wife. She was milling along the beach. Other trains and people had arrived. I recognized my wife’s brother-in-law and snuck up on him, surprising him. We were up on a slight elevation, looking down, where his wife and son were. His son’s wife wasn’t there, but my late mother-in-law was. All of them were not far away from their train, a small, beige engine with a single, short beige car. I said to him, “Oh, you brought all of them with you.”

He didn’t reply, and then I was down by my wife and my train. The train was a pretty chrome blue, very new and sleek. I walked along it, smiling and looking around as I thought, “This is going to take me a long way.”

Then I stopped and faced the choppy waters of a dark blue sea.

Dream end.

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Ah, Another Military Dream

I was a younger man, actually my age when I retired from the military in RL. I was dressed in a common uniform of the day, the woodland camouflage battle dress that I often wore.

I’d been invited back for a visit. In most of my assignments, contact was limited to a dozen people in a unit; I worked in a command post, one to three people to a shift, locked in a vault-like space. No windows, one door, eight to twelve hours a shift. People weren’t allowed in without proper clearance, previous approval, and a reason to be there. We were often armed, in case someone who didn’t fit those parameters broke in.

But there was one unit where I worked regularly with aircrews, the training staff, admin, etc. Everyone had access to me, and me to them. This was the unit where I felt closest to my co-workers.

These were the people I was back visiting. We’d been a covert intelligence unit back in the day, but the Berlin Wall fell, the USSR collapsed, and our mission ended. I went back to the US to Space Command. Many in that unit went on to special ops, gunships, or on loan to do drug interdiction on behalf of the DEA. It was this last that was going on in the dream.

We were outside in a large field. I was back by special invitation to watch a military operation, and people from then were back by invitation to see me. Several came back and told me what they’d done since we’d last seen one another thirty years ago. One of the last, Capt. Z, said, “I think it’s time for me to go.” He was hesitant to speak. I said, “No, you’re too young. You still have more to give.”

He shrugged. “I think it’s time. I don’t have a choice.”

He left. The operation progressed. An officer said, “Now Priscilla will explain how the unit coordinates with other agencies to intercept and track illegal drug activities.” Priscilla began leading several squadrons of personnel in military uniforms across a wide street.

As I watched that, I realized that it was Priscilla, a RL friend from my current era, a college professor who had never been in the military. I thought, why is she here?

Dream end.

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