Tag: children

Another Flying Dream

I was visiting my sisters and their families. Someone was in the kitchen preparing food for us but I couldn’t see them. The kitchen was shallow and narrow, with silver and stainless-steel machines across its front, on top of a breakfast bar. We were all laughing and talking. I don’t recall anything said until I said, “Hey, how do you get into that kitchen?” I wanted to go in. “There are no doors.”

That wasn’t answered because at that point, I felt a powerful energy, a humming vibration, sweeping around me. Raising my hands, I stepped back to feel it better. “You guys feel that?” They all said no so I explained, “A powerful energy is flowing through here.”

Acting on an impression that struck, I moved back into an empty space in the adjacent living room. “Watch this.”

Putting my arms straight out to my sides, keeping my body stiff, I let myself fall face forward. As expected by me, I never hit the floor but levitated above it by several feet. “See that?” I called to them.

The children were watching and gasping in amazement. “How are you doing that?” several asked.

“I’m must using the energy. You can do it, too. Watch.” I landed on my feet and then repeated my act of falling forward and levitated again. The children were trying to copy me.

“I think I can higher and control myself,” I said. Then I changed my hands and moved forward, flying higher. Understanding that flight control was possible, I flew toward an open window.

Dream end.

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thought

It was Wednesday. As though scheduled by God, school children began filing into the coffee house at 2:05. Within five minutes, the number of people went from six quiet adults to six quiet adults and fifty noisy children aged ten through fifteen, at a guess. The volume rose. Their voices climbed louder. A fighter jet taking off would have been drowned out.

The cliques formed and routines were honored. Then one teenaged female raced back through the coffee house and out the front door. As she left, she screamed and then did a little dance. A girl outside ran up to her. The two surged into a long hug and began jumping up and down without releasing each other, joy overwhelming their expressions. Other girls in the coffee shop turned, saw the scene and ran out to join them. “Eva, Eva,” one running girl shouted as she raced out, answering one question.

Of course, other questions surfed his mind, like who was Eva and where had she been? She seemed very popular. It was like she was just getting back from prison, a hospital stay, or a very long trip.

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Her Dreams

She says that she vividly dreams all the time and tells him about two. Both were recurring. In one, she was with her ex-son-in-law. He’s in many of her dreams but in this recurring dream, she and he are in a huge house. Others are there but she doesn’t remember who the others are. The SIL says, “We’re going to bring a lot of children here, so we need to start making beds.” She thinks in response that they’re not ready and that’s going to upset her daughter.

The other recurring dream, experienced three nights in a row, was about being in a huge mansion. She said it cost over a billion dollars to build. It’s sealed off from the outside world. But she thinks, there’s no oxygen. There’s no air. She can’t breathe.

She dreamed that one while she was in the hospital on oxygen, fighting COVID pneumonia.

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Friday’s Wandering Thought

He loves face watching. Looking at children’s faces, he wonders what they’ll look like in thirty, forty, fifty years and what they’ll become. As he considers elderly faces, he looks for the youths they were, and thinks of the lives they may have lived. So many mysteries slumber in each face, waiting to be discovered.

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Twosday’s Wandering Thought

Three young girls arrived. He’s not an expert in these matters, but their lithe size and small stature made him guess that they were probably ten to twelve years old. All were white and wore shorts, and four-to-five-inch-high heels with ankle straps. One of the pairs of heels had clear plastic. The other two were stiletto.

These, he was certain, were the youngest people he’d ever seen wearing high heels. He’d certainly never seen them on children this young before. It seemed like they portended something, but he didn’t know what.

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A Wonderful Flying Dream

I don’t know exactly where this took place. The POV often changed. Sometimes it was upclose and personal, as though looking from my eyes. Other times, I saw myself from several feet away.

I was in my mid-thirties, as so, and in a large, white place. I don’t know what it was. Definitely didn’t seem like a church. Pews were absent, along with any other religious clues. Sand white carpet was underfoot, complimenting the white walls. A huge cathedral ceiling with tall windows dominated.

I’d been there for a period and knew the area. At this point, I was watching others. Many were attempting to fly things which looked like a kite and a mylar balloon had offspring. None were large. Many looked like π. Another appeared to be a long, mildly curved tablet. As I watched people trying strings to these and trying to fly them, I thought, they’re all doing this wrong. Getting my hands on a π, I went to the highest point that I could find and threw myself off.

The highest point was only about twenty-six feet tall. The height was enough for me to hold π to my chest, jump off, and fly around the room. As I did, I grasped that I could gently shift π and change my course, feather, and wheel, which I did. Others all stopped to ogle what I was doing. After I landed, they clamored for explanation about how I did this. I started trying to teach them but they struggled. Meanwhile, I wanted one of the curved tablets. I thought that I could really do things with it.

Around then, a car drove up. The driver’s window went down. It was the guy in chair and his wife. He called me over for a conversation. He said, “I hear that you’re flying these things.” I was distracted, looking for one of the tablets. Airborne, I was waiting for it to descend low enough for me to grab it. After I replied, “Yes,” to him, the boss man continued, smiling, “Well, I’m not at all surprised. I always thought that if anyone could, it’d be you.” Flattered, I answered, “Yes, but there’s more to come with these.” Responding, I’m looking forward to that, he drove away.

I caught a tablet. Taking it to the highest spot, I leaped off. As I plunged toward the ground, I gently invoked a mild bend in the tablet. It instantly took me back up to the ceiling. As I thought, its bend and shape provided more lift and control. As the others watched, gasping at what I was doing, I sailed around the room, diving at people, rolling, and then soaring back up.

By now, some children had learned to fly π. They began trying to follow me. I led them on short trips around the complex. Unlike the cathedral, the complex was a labyrinth of low dark tunnels opening onto square rooms where orange light glowed.

As I went down one tunnel on a tablet followed by a few children on π, I encountered another child flying a π in the other direction. As I moved to let her by, I caught my tablet on something stuck out of the wall and went into a spin. Unfazed, I righted myself and went on, impressing everyone because the spin barely slowed me down.

Dream end. I felt great throughout the dream, and smiled when I remembered it after I awoke.

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The Guests Dream

My wife and I lived in a small place in this dream. It was outside and had no walls or roof. Nor, I later learned, did it have a private bathroom.

As said, it was small, tiny, really. It was all about the kitchen, dining room, and living room — without walls, which I didn’t think odd at all. Guests arrived, including cousins. Among them was one a few years younger than me who passed away in 2002 from a heart attack. He was there and in good health and I was pleased to see him. I realized that the guests meant that I needed more kitchen space. Of critical concern was that I make a place for them to make coffee and sit and enjoy the coffee — and BTW, Christmas was on the way, according to my guests. Some began putting up colored electric lights and other decorations.

I set up what I thought would suit the guests, a small, squared off space with an elaborate coffee maker on the left, and a sitting area on the right. My deceased cousin complained about it IAW his nature. I deflected his complaints with good nature. His mother arrived and made observations and suggestions. As I began explanations about the arrangements and my logic, I cut myself off. “Wait. You’re right! That would be better.” I commenced making the change.

Finishing, I stepped away from our square, wall-free, roofless, ‘home’. Around us was a park with swing sets, seesaws, and slides in use by screaming, laughing, chattering children. After surveying them, I turned and spotted two huge bears lumbering by. Worrying about the children, I turned to warn them. They’d spotted the bears. Quieting, they’d climbed bleachers and were waiting for the bears to leave. The bears left without incident.

I went to use the restroom. In dreamstyle, I turned and stepped and was upstairs in a white building. This, I knew, was a stick and wood building three stories tall. I was on the third floor in a hall. A square antechamber was on my right. I faced white doors spread out in the hall and antechamber in an odd and haphazard fashion. Black numbers labeled the doors one to five. The bathrooms, I realized. As I went to select number five, I realized there was a sixth and shifted toward it. As I did, a young woman in loose black shirt and pants accosted me, explaining that the rooms were shared and she was scheduled to use one of them to give a massage and a bath to a client. She said, “You need to reserve the room for your use.” As she talked, she crossed to a wall and took a clipboard with a yellow shirt of paper on it. “We use this to reserve the rooms. I suggest you use it as well.”

I countered with another suggestion, which were cards by the doors, which indicated if they were in use or available.

Dream end.

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Sunday’s Wandering Thought

A friend who is a grandmother related a story about her latest granddaughter, Vera. As soon as she found the words, Vera announced that her name was Peaches and she would not answer to any other name.

That was two years ago. She’s now five. A young cat found his way to her side. Cat and human are with one another like snow and white. She calls him Butters. He’s nine months old.

The adventures of Peaches and Butters are just beginning.

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Flash Dreams

These seem like a sequence of scenes from one long but fragmented dream.

I began with two young people, twentyish, male and female. Seated at a long folding table in a smallish room, definitely a temporary set up, the kind encountered at conventions and conferences for registration, they were going through papers I’d provided them about my visions, values, and dreams. Pens in hands, talking — and sometimes snickering — they made checkmarks and wrote notes. They seemed to be evaluating the for entrance somewhere, part of a process that I expected. I was the only one in there. I had other places to go and things to do.

A mother with her young children entered from a back door. Setting down a model of a dragon, she complained to me about the assignment’s difficulty. I loved her dragon, though, praising it for its blue and purple colors, telling her that she’d done a great job. As she departed, another mother — who turned out to be one of my younger sisters, G — entered with several children, She also had a dragon model, green and blue, and complained about the assignment’s level of difficulty. I complimented her on the model and her skill and imagination. As she was unmoved, I gave a pep talk, telling her that it was a stretch assignment to unleash her potential because I knew how creative, imaginative, and intelligent she was.

Next, I was out the door, walking with my wife, heading toward some sort of gathering. We were walking on a large asphalt area and our destination was a long way off. Scattered knots and small groups of other people were seen making their way, too. I roughly knew the way and told my wife that we needed to hurry. A coal-skinned squat man, very broad, walking with a cane, approached with a wide grin. Wearing a pork pie hat, he was dressed in black pants and coat, a green vest, and a white tee shirt, and was several inches shorter than me.

He asked if we were going to the event. I replied yes and he told me that he knew shortcuts which he would show us. That sounded fine. he took us on a diagonal course. My wife and I struggled to keep up with him. We had to go over a fence which was about knee high. Our guide went without problem, leaving me to wonder how he’d done it as I slowed, hopped the fence, and caught my pants cuff. As I finally freed myself, I saw a chain across an entry which was lower and realized he must have used that.

Another dream flash took over. I needed to change clothes. Uncertain about what to where, I had a wide selection of choices hanging on hangers on racks available. I tried and removed several. Everything looked good on me but was worried about being dressed not just for the event, where I was being honored, but also the weather. My wife joined me to hurry me along.

I moved into another dream segment. I was in a busy room. People filled tiers of desks and tables. Many consulted one another or spoke on phones.

I was standing toward the center. I realized that I knew something which they didn’t and began trying to explain. A large projection of a Google map sprawled across the room’s front. Taking an air mouse, I began scrolling up the map, telling everyone that what they needed was further north. The mouse and scrolling proved sensitive and difficult to manage. I kept scrolling up too far and then overcorrecting. People stopped paying attention as I worked the map and tried to find the place I wanted. I knew that it was far up north. I saw the Arctic Circle and told myself, it’s not that far, but then I saw an entire new land projected.

As I took in mountains, rivers, seas, and lakes, astonishment filled me. How did I never know about that area? I thought, too, it must be freezing cold up there, given how cold it could become in the northern continental United States. These places I was seeing were hundreds, maybe thousands of miles further north. But using the mouse, I found I could click on places and revealed information such as latitude and longitude. Displayed in negative numbers, they didn’t make sense. I began to guess that they were imaginary numbers, and thought, maybe it’s an imaginary land. Clicking more, I discovered the temperatures. Some said 20, 25, 30, and then I realized that these temperatures in Centigrade. They were warm places.

Dream end.

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The Room Dream

I arrived home as a young man. Mom gave me a room. I was happy to see her and happy to be there. We were living on a train, and the room she gave me was an entire train car. Long and narrow, I had a bed, desk, dresser, bookcase, chair, and wardrobe. I set them up to provide separate sleeping and living areas, using the bookcase and vanity as a makeshift wall. As I set it up, my young sisters came in and visited. Sometimes they brought young neighbor boys that they were watching. Mom would also occasionally come by.

I stacked my books and organized my desk, made my narrow bed, and slid against one wall. One side of the train had windows, and I set my desk up under them so I could look outside.

Young people in a sixties era Chevy Impala convertible (after the fins were dropped) began driving by. Whenever they did, some of my things would get shifted, annoying me. This worsened; even as I cleaned and organized again, they drove by, knocking things over. They never reached in or anything, but I knew it was them, as they were laughing about it.

I decided I’d put a stop to that and devised a way by changing the room around. The new arrangement was less satisfying, but it was staying neat and still workable. However, one of the little neighbor boys my sisters were watching kept sneaking into my room and tearing things up. He was fair and blonde, giggling often, but crying whenever he was stopped or reprimanded. I kept putting him out, warning him not to do that, and warning others to keep him out, and then cleaning up again, and again, but he kept getting in there. Mom came to me and told me to be more patient and tolerant because he was a small child and had mental and emotional health issues. I complained to her but took her point and promised I would try.

The train with my room went on the move. That pleased me because I thought we’d moved away from the boy causing the problem. But he got in there again. I was bewildered. My sisters explained that he’d come with us. I felt that I had no choice but to close and lock my doors. After I did that, I discovered him sliding in under the door. It looked like he could completely flattened himself, becoming as pliable and flexible as a sheet of paper.

My exasperation and irritation spiked. How was I supposed to deal with that. I took hold of the boy to take him out of the room. He immediately screamed, writhing and crying in my grasp. Others came running in. I said that I hadn’t done anything to him, that he was overly sensitive, defending myself with the claim, I was just stopping him from ruining things again. My sisters took him out of my room.

Dream end.

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