The White Square Dream
I dreamed I was presented with a white vertical square.
The square floated in front of my head. Despite no evident attachments to the wall, floor, or ceiling, it was very stable.
Twenty-five photos in five-by-five columns and rows were in the square. All were the same photo of a young, bald, smiling black man — no one familiar to me. The picture reminded me of a high school photograph, but this man was an adult.
Puzzled, I investigated the white square and then the photographs, learning that pressing a photograph opened another set of smaller, identical photographs of the same person.
Trial and error led to discoveries that the man was twenty-five years old. Each photograph represented a different year of his life. Pressing on them opened up other sets of photographs. Although always looking like the same photograph, by pressing it, I learned of his past, present, and future for him at that time of his life.
Over that exploration, I realized that I could shift the man from where he was in his life to another place in his life, including his future and past.
Swiping left brought up another set of photos, only four, all the same, a grinning white man with tousled ginger hair in a green plaid shirt. Venturing to press photographs revealed he was only four years old, but that I could move into his future and past through the photos, and when I moved through them, I was moving him.
The experience was repeated several more times before I sat back to think about what I’d encountered. This was a system to move people in time or reality, maybe both.
With that understanding, I sat back, warning myself, be careful with what you do until I understand more about the ramifications.
Dream end.
Satyrdaz Theme Music
We’ve come to a new 2026 Satryda. Falling on January 10, nothing in my introduction to it portends to anything significant — yet; the day is early.
46 F outside, with clouds and stagnant air planning to shuffle us into the low to mid 50s. Despite storm warnings about snow, none materialized in our town. The surrounding mountains received a chunk. As that’s where the snowbank resides, it’s reassuring that some moisture has been stocked up for the summer. More is still needed.
I’m thinking about patterns today — life, daily, political, weather. A dream inspired the initial thought flow. Then my usual consultation of temperatures, my weather cat — Papi — and the view outside intersected.
Weather shapes our lives, as does technology, relationships, and modern politics. Each day is a snapshot of the present, but we can see the past and future in it. Interpretations of those depends on which details we notice and how we apply knowledge to what we see.
More, some let themselves try to see less to force it into a preconceived framework. They work to strengthen their framework by challenging less.
Conversely, I think knowing less weakens our framework. I always fear that I’m limiting myself, that I’m chasing facts to support assumptions. I know I have biases which emerge to curtail my views.
I can see that happen in the entire spectrum of myself, whether the thoughts are about writing, fiction, sports, weather, politics, or personal relationships. All these things have their own spectrums. I move along them, and they move along me. The resulting dynamics are always complex.
I want to have a fidelity to truth, facts, honesty, and history. But it seems like we’re living in a period in which those elements are under consistent attack.
At the same time, I remind myself that I’ve never lived in another period. I can easily visualize hundreds or thousands of years ago when people struggled to understand and learn the truth and apply it to their lives, just as I’m doing now.
The more things change, the more they remain the same. That’s the essence of all of these thoughts about patterns.
Getting involved with my thoughts, The Neurons planted “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac in the mental morning music stream. The Neurons weren’t focused on the dream aspect, though; they came through with the song’s first lines.
“Well there you go again, you say you want your freedom. Well, who am I to keep you down? It’s only right that you should play the way you feel it.”
Because, you know, beyond all those facts and truths, we’re always dealing too with emotions.
Hope this Satyrda finds you safe and comfortable in your patterns, ready to move forward in positive ways. Cheers
Floofeasance
Floofeasance (floofinition) – Misconduct or wrongdoing by an animal, especially a housepet. Origins: 1763, Flance, from floofaire to do wrong, from floo (animal) + faire, from Floofin, facere, to make or do.
In Use: “Coming home often led to findings of floofeasance in the house, but Sugar and Charley’s adorable expressions always saved them from being disciplined.”
Fridaz Theme Music
The temperature is sulking between 28 (my house) and 37 F (the net). The net amends its claim, “Feels like 27 degrees”. Well, alright then.
It’s Frida, January 9, 2026. The grass is a ghostly shade of green under an unstoppable blue sky. Sunshine feeds light into the valley. All of it looks promising, optimistic. Today’s high will drag the mercury to 46 F.
I’m processing news and information, reflecting on 2026’s launch and its relative successes and failures. Mom and sis have been quiet. Sis has only commented on another sister’s behavior. The other sister is urging everyone to sell Mom’s house quickly but is not doing anything to make that happen.
Sis and Mom are quiet. I hope it’s because stress has dropped for the two, letting them breathe and communicate. I have my fingers crossed that we’ll see a peaceful January. If they can go an entire month without blowing up my phone with texts accusing the other of hate and malfeasance, it’ll be a new record.
Likewise, watching growing reactions in the political world, I slowly became hopeful that improvements are rising. My hopes are not unlimited.
After an ICE agent shot and killed an American citizen in Minneapolis, there was a shooting involving border patrol agents and civilians in Portland. Fortunately, only two civilians were shot and they received prompt medical treatment. I don’t know how the two victims are faring; I hope both are recovering.
Mixed concerns rose after listening to Portland’s Mayor and Oregon Governor Tina Kotes speaking after the shooting. They called out Trump, Homeland Security, and ICE to de-escalate the situation. They then talked about re-building an atmosphere of trust.
Sadly, I don’t think Trump cares about a trust between citizens or political parties. Trump has ramped up his belligerence in 2026’s early days by insinuating that more military action against other nations and territories is possible. Even as National Guard units are being removed from Portland (OR) due to a judge’s order, Trump threatens to send them back in.
My worries about his increasing threats are grounded in the claim he’s recently made that only he can stop himself. Trump’s history is not one of self-restraint and his second term is replete with threats. He’s attacked judges who ruled against him, politicians who speak against him, and reporters who don’t portray him as the greatest.
Between Mom, sis, Trump, and the weather, I’m ready for January to be emotionally up and down. As it sometimes is with me, that mood summons songs from the grunge side.
This morning, the delivery came as I watched a small bird fly down to the yard. After three quick hops, he flitted to the wire. His little head popped left and right. To my mind, he was doing a recon, and his conclusion was, no, this is not the place, because he jumped up and flew off.
I smiled throughout this and thought about having wings and flying. The Neurons jumped into the thought party at that point to play me some “Down in A Hole” by Alice in Chains in the morning mental music stream.
The Neurons didn’t start at the beginning. They selected the lines, “I’d like to fly, but my wings have been so denied.” Laughter to that seemed like an appropriate response.
Coffee has been added to my morning tilt. Energy is rising. I hope you all reach and stay in a good place for this day and the many to follow. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 