Category: Dreams

The Zeppelin Dream

Not referring to the great rock group Led Zeppelin, nor any cover group in this. We were traveling via zeppelins. I was with others but didn’t know any of them beyond their first names. I don’t know why we were traveling or where we were going. I knew it was a zeppelin because the dream actually had a scene of conversation in which it was discussed what the vessel was. Semi-rigid. Inflated. Airship. An enormous passenger compartment with plush red seats similar to a movie theater was available.

I had a mission. I was going to raise money for refugees by selling raffle tickets. I wasn’t certain what the winner would receive; that was to be resolved, although I was doing all of this on my own. I’d made the tickets, red with black marker, by hand, and carried them in a red basket. I also had red cloth napkins. Besides this, I carried open cans of wet food for cats and animals so that I could feed any animal that I encountered. After preparing myself, I entered the passenger compartment, greeting travelers as they rushed in to find preferred seats. Someone jostled me, spilling cat food onto the ground and upsetting me. As I cleaned it up, others asked why I had open cat food, so I explained that I was feeding animals while selling raffle tickets to raise money to help refugees. When asked what the prize was, I exclaimed, “The prize can be whatever you want.”

Dream end.

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The Moving-Planets Dream

Although it’s the moving-planets dream, it segued into a pants dream. That’s how I first thought of it.

We were given papers. “Follow the instructions on the papers,” we were all told. I’m not certain how many others were there. I’d guess about forty. I had an impression that I was middle-lower grade. We were doing something with planets and their orbits. Changing positions. De-conflicting paths and influences. The papers explained how to do these things. After a hesitant start, I picked up the idea and easily did my part, watching through large windows as I changed the paths and directions of gassy giants and small stones. An upper-level man came by and complimented me on my work. Told me, “You obviously have it. Go help some of the others. Some of them don’t get it.”

So I walked about, holding my paper, helping others learn how to move the planets. This was an introduction to a larger project. Once we knew how to move the planets, shift orbits, and change rotations, we were working on a larger project of aligning the planets for the most beneficial influence. By now, I’d read several people’s paper instructions. I’d learned that all were different in the details but with the same general practices and skill sets. Although my rank hadn’t changed, I was highly regarded and now considered adept at moving planets.

It was with some surprise then, followed by trepidation, when I concluded that some of the instructions were wrong. I went off and found the head guy and told him why I thought it was wrong. He decided that what I said made sense. He wanted to gather the whole group so I could explain it to them.

I agreed. Preparations were made. I decided I didn’t like my pants, so I made new ones, cutting them from cloth that I found, and then sewing them. The results were stunning. Form-fitting. Crisp creases. Neat darts and pleats. Perfect length. Cuffed. I was impressed by how my appearance improved by the change of pants.

The head guy and others came by to tell me they were ready. I had my pants on. My pants were different from everyone else’s. They stopped me and gathered around, asking, “Where did you get those pants? They’re perfect.”

“I made them,” I answered.

They were astonished. Wanted to know more. Felt the material. Had me turn so my pants could be admired from all angles. The rest of the people came in as this happened. They applauded my pants. The attention embarrassed me. With my new pants on, I was ready to explain to everyone where our plans to align the planets was amiss. I stood up to address them against a backdrop of stars and planets through tall, broad curved windows.

Dream end.

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Another Mask Dream

Anyone need a dream? I had a surfeit of them last night. Convoluted and crazy. Too many to sit and remember, write, and analyze them. It would have taken hours that I don’t have. I instead stayed with one making the largest impression.

I can’t say where I was. Couldn’t make sense of it. In one part I was driving in a car with my wife. Darkness fell suddenly. The headlights didn’t go on as expected. It wasn’t a familiar car. Brown or tan sedan reminiscent of the old Chrysler K cars of the early 1980s, Lee Iacocca’s brain child. I started scrambling to find the headlight controls while verbalizing this to my spouse. Meanwhile, the ride changed from smooth to rough and bouncy. I immediately exclaimed, “We’re off the road. We need to find the road.” Seeing a clear space that could be it, thinking I’d simply veered off, I jerked the wheel left toward the opening.

We went over a hill through heavier bush and woods. Not the road! But, weirdly, POV changed; I could see the car from outside ourselves and the car, and saw that we were heading for an abandoned, weeded asphalt parking lot at the bottom of the hill. While it wasn’t where we wanted to go, it was good enough for now because I could also see that it was separated from the road we wanted by a small median strip. We could get to the parking lot, cross the strip, then drive to our destination, which I could also see in the gloomy dusk.

Now we’re in a room of some sort where we’re to wait. Narrow beds with disheveled blankets and sheets. Mine had cats burrowing through the covers as they played. A woman coming by said, “Yes, some of them have cats. Many don’t.” Okay. I asked her what to expect. She replied, “Find the script, read it, and wait.”

What? I found dog-eared and torn papers stapled together. I began reading, not sure what to expect nor why I was doing it, and thinking, that’s how life is. Meanwhile, the cats were feisty. I thought they hungry. I went about finding food for them. I found food but then couldn’t find the cats. That raised concerns about them.

Then — not sure why — I decided to fashion a mask for myself out of paper towels. I pinched out two holes for eyes and held them over my face. The white paper towels were raggedly torn. I began searching for some way to fasten them around my head but then I saw one of the cats go through.

Then, they demanded I read. Who? Why, it was the director. They’re auditioning people, trying to fill roles. Pick up one of the scripts and read. I did while holding the mask up around my face. The director loved it. Don’t practice; don’t change. Just walk forward, pick up scripts, and read them when you’re told. WTH. I was confused but decided I’d go along with it. I discovered two young actors had been cast as Romeo and Juliet. I was reading other parts. Then they would do their roles. Oh. I tossed the mask aside, feeling that it was a hindrance. A woman rushed up and told me, “No, no, the director liked that raw touch. He thought it was unusual and different and wants you to keep holding the mask as you read.”

So I went forward, holding up my mask, reading scripts when, seeing cats, and trying to feed them.

Dream end.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Today’s numbers are nine, 16, 2021, 7:19, 6:52, 64, and 81. Installing them in the right context outlines the day’s parameters. The date by month, day, and year. Sunset and sunrise. The air quality index and expected high temperatue in Fahrenheit. Context always helps.

After last night’s dreamathon, Elton John’s 1983 song, “I Guess That’s Why They Call It the Blues”, lodged itself into the mental music stream. Not sure how the song and dreams fit. Maybe they don’t. Perhaps the song was randomly selected from my cranial jukebox. Maybe I’m just a victim of some cosmic or quantum entanglement. This song is playing at another time, past or future, and I’m hearing it now. Maybe some relative or close friend is hearing or remembering it, and its transferring to my awareness. It could be that one of my cats is hearing it or thinking about it and projecting it onto me. I can’t guess.

Anyway, the EJ song is Thursday’s theme music. Stay positive, test negative, try to relax and have some fun, wear a mask as needed, get the vax, and have some coffee, as I’m about to do. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Greetings, life forms. I include the undead who might be reading this, too. And whatever other ethereal forms are browsing the net — or browsing history in some future state.

Anyway, today is Wednesday, September 15, 2021. Sunshine entered the valley at 6:51 AM. We expect it to fade away at 7:21 PM. Our high temperature will be in the low eighties. Our air is serviceable. Light traces of smoke and haze hang along the mountains’ tree lines but the AQI sits at 70, putting us in the Moderate (yellow) range. It’s a continued improvement that we’re happy to have.

In news, it was great to see that the California recall effort fizzled. Don’t live there but I used to. I live in Oregon, in fact, just a few miles north of the California – Oregon border. Have friends in California and still follow their politics. I didn’t want Larry Elder as governor of anywhere. He spouts reactionary garbage. The disaster it would have been were he to have replaced Newsom is nauseating to contemplate.

Most importantly, the loss throttles the precedence and encouragement it would create for Republicans to backdoor the system. Naturally, upon hearing that he was going to lose, that Newsom would not be recalled, Elder immediately cried, “Cheat!” It’s the GOP way of this century. It’s a good thing that they’re doing it. They’re raising an alarm for something that isn’t there. As it’s proven again and again that no fire is behind the smoke only they see, rational individuals will walk away from them and tune them out.

My night was heavy with dreams. It’s a monthly cycle. My mood goes up and down each month. Get quite dark for a day or two. Want nothing to do with the world, writing, cats, or myself in those hours. Being aware of it helps. cope. I just endure and ensure I don’t do anything stupid during the darkness.

Anyway as part of the peak, versus being in the trough, my mind is busy with dreams. After waking up and thinking them over doing all my morning rituals, I settled with my coffee. About then, a 1991 Yes song percolated into the morning music stream. “Life Me Up” was the group’s last hit, as far as I know. Not that I track these things but others do, and I read that. Not my favorite Yes song (hah – funny that, if you know their albums) but no doubt it’s a Yes song.

Stay positive, test negative, stay in the groove, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Here’s the music. Time for more coffee, I believe. Cheers

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Another Kind of Flying Dream

This was a different take on flying dreams. It’s actually a segment of a large dream sequence but this part had me smiling.

So the dream heavily featured my father- and mother-in-law. Both are deceased with my MIL passing a few years ago and FIL passing in 1991, shortly after his retirement at age 65. I had a good relationship with both.

They were young in this dream and their physiques reflected their younger selves. In this dream, there was a point where they announced to my wife and I, “We’re no longer driving. We’re going to fly everywhere from now on.”

O-kaaayyy. Their announcement left their daughter and I with multiple questions. How were they planning to do this? Jump on airplanes? And what did they mean when they said —

Well, even as we were wondering about these and other aspects, my in-laws produced am airplane. Think a small Cessna. Piper Cub. Single prop. High wings. Red and white. It was clear now that they intended to fly themselves. Which defied expectations. Neither had a pilot’s license when alive. Neither had even flown many times.

But, okay. There was an announcement then that we were going to the grocery store and they were flying us. My wife and I are in the airplane with them. We’re still discussing what’s planned and how this is possible but we take off. But I’m challenging my wife, how are they going to take us to a store? So many obstacles exist, right?

My wife and I are in the back. But we’re seated backwards, facing the rear. I turn around to see what’s going on and realize, they’re going to fly down the street. Below the overpass. Past the buildings, trees, and wires.

Holy shit!

The aircraft’s rotation, yaw, and pitch are all wrong. At one point, we’re between a set of telephone wires with the aircraft nose pointing straight up. My wife and I are giddy with laughter about the affair. But they’re calm and casual up front. The in-laws land the aircraft in the store parking lot. And park us between cars.

Segment end.

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A Mystery Dream

It’s a tense movie melodrama. A sister-in-law has disappeared. We recount where and when she was last seen or heard, trying to establish where she might before. Then, we know. Her vulgar ex-husband has killed her. We can see this even though it’s already happened, and took place somewhere else. A race is begun. He’s washing himself, washing his clothes, cleaning out the bed of his truck, ridding himself of evidence, as we rush in to stop him, to find evidence, to call the police, to give them time to arrive.

And there is where it stops.

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A Flood Dream

A short dream, but with impact. Boxes of food were being handed out. Large boxes but not of a uniform size. Mostly brown. Although the boxes didn’t have lids, I don’t know what food was inside them.

Like others, I hurried to get a box of food. That required me to go onto a cement portico surrounded by shadowy white colonnades. The boxes were happily given out and equally happily received. After getting one box, it was suggested that I go back and try to get another one. When I went back, the person giving them out recognized me. He said, “I wouldn’t be going for these boxes, I’d be going for something to survive the flood.”

I didn’t know what flood he talked about. I accepted the box and returned to the others, puzzling over what he’d said. I told them. We debated what he meant, and how the boxes might be different, if they’re for a flood. I decided that I’d get boxes to survive a flood, just be on the safe side and went back to the issuing area. Dark brown flood waters were already to my knees at that point. No more boxes were being handed out. The people giving them out were gone.

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Coffee and Dreams

I awoke at about half past darkness with a dream in mind. Realized that I was writing in my dream.

I went over what I’d written. Considered rising to capture it. Decided not to. Resumed sleep.

Awoke in the morning. Went through dreams while doing light exercising and stretching. Daily ritual. The cats assumed the position. Stared fixedly with misery. Tucker seized a more active approach. Moved over and sat on my foot. Looked up at me. Eyes big. Waiting. Expectant. Give a little, “Mello,” in a friendly baritone.

Done with exercising, feeding cats was necessary before starvation took them. We went down the hall, they with eager anticipation, me with resignation. Cleaned out bowls — “You never even finished what I fed you last night” — opened a can. Doled out the wet food. Refilled the kibble stations. Cleaned and filled the water stations.

Coffee was brewed. Before it finished, I was back with the dream writing stuff. Headed to the computer. Wrote for an hour. Surprising how fresh and clear it had remained. Got up when my Fitbit reminded me that it was time to move. Remembered my coffee. Now cold. Drank some anyway. My taste buds immediately sent notices that this was unacceptable. I nuked the coffee hot. The taste buds were appalled.

Writing in my head was still happening. Hadn’t eaten yet but the muses were strong. So, despite the stomach’s increasingly vocal demands, I made fresh coffee and returned to the keyboard. Got back into the rhythm.

Half the coffee remains. It’s almost cold. Mug radiates an ant watt of warmth. Taste buds are not overly pleased with the dark fluid’s progress over their realm.

But it all works. Coffee and dreams. At least, today. Time to eat, according to my stomach. Get some real coffee, too, the taste buds request. Something hot and dark, please.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

First, standard warnings. The outside air is unhealthy. Recommend you avoid going outside. Don’t exert yourself outside. People with respiratory issues should take additional precautions.

COVID-19 positives cases remain high as vaccination rates continue to wane. ICUs are full. Wear a mask when outside your home, especially when in stores and restaurants. Social distance. The library is closed to browsing but there is front door service.

Welcome to Thursday, September 9, 2021.

It’s similar to Wednesday and Tuesday. Many of us wonder, when will this stop? The smoke. COVID-19. Drought. Water shortages.

Sunrise was at 6:44 AM. Sunset will be at 7:33 PM. Saw a big red-orange ball in the sky late yesterday afternoon. Purported to be the sun. And darkness did gather when it disappeared. So, cause and effect, must’ve been the sun.

Temperatures today will remain warm but not hot with a forecast high in the mid to open eighties.

A Wham song is rooted in the morning musical mental stream. This is a dream’s influence. I’m still sorting the dream. The song is “Everything She Wants” from 1984. I respect Wham and George Michael but their music wasn’t the sort I generally paid mind. But my female friends and wife looked their music so I heard it often. I’m still piecing together why it was in my dreamscape’s musical score.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Here’s the music and there’s my coffee. Cheers

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