Tag: coping

The Rabbit Dream

I was at an outdoor gathering with others. None were ‘real-life’ friends. I knew them casually in the dream, as we’d just completed some kind of training or gathering.

Setup was very casual, and I was much young then my RL age. Just wrapping up, I received notifications and tickets about my travel plans. I glanced at them but didn’t read them deeply, just making myself aware of what they were.

Walking across a large swath of grass towards where the others were with food, grill, picnic tables, I came across a large brown rabbit. It was watching me as I walked by, and I realized, oh, it’s hungry.

So I said, “Are you hungry?”

Wagging it tail, it hopped toward me.

I chuckled to myself. “Why, you’re just like a cat or a dog, aren’t you?” Then, walking on, I added, “Wait here. I’ll get you something to eat.”

The others were sitting around the tables, bullshitting. We’d eaten earlier. I was trying to figure out, what does a rabbit eat? But I knew what a rabbit ate; I didn’t see anything like that on the table or grill. I only saw buns and cookies. Then I did notice a little salad left.

I casually picked up a few things, including a cookie, not wanting to share with the others that I was feeding the rabbit. The rabbit jumped up on the table and began eating.

Pretending to be upset, I chided the rabbit, “Get down off the table, you’re not supposed to be eating that.”

But I thought, that’s what I’ll give the rabbit to eat.

The rabbit jumped down. One of the guys there said, “You were going to feed that rabbit, weren’t you?”

I denied it, but he went on, “You were going to give him that cookie.”

Shrugging, I replied, “So what if I was?”

Giving the rabbit food, I walked away. Remembering my tickets, I pulled them out to check the details. Everything was washed out by water spots.

For a moment, I thought, how did that happen?

Then I was angry about it. One of the others walked past and asked, “How’s it going?”

I explained what had happened, showing my tickets. They said, “Same thing happened to me. What are you going to do?”

I replied, “I’ll just go to the airport. There will be someone there who can help me.” Shrugging, I thought, there could also be an administrator here who could help.

As I began looking around, trying to figure out where to go to find the administrator, the dream ended. 

0

Tuesday’s Theme Music – Helpless

Ashland, southern Oregon — Tuesday, June 23, 2026.

Hot, mid 90s today, copy of yesterday for our valley.

We cope without using the A/C. I like them in cars and businesses, don’t like using them at home. At night, I cool-drench the house and that usually carries us through the day.

Smoke was in the air last night when I popped the door open. Not strong but I definitely smelled it. NextDoor had the answer: a controlled burn in the town next door. They have orchards. Blight had struck. To contain the blight and stop its spread, they cut off the affected limbs and burned them.

People were worried, though. We’re in a red flag situation. Sure, it was a controlled burn, but controlled burns can get out of hand.

Shows the complexity of the entire matter — drought, fire, trees, economy — on one succinct scenario.

At about 6, my wife went into the garage for something and returned. “I want to leave a door open and let hot air. Warm the house. It’s so cold in here.”

It was 92 outside. In the house at that point, it was 79.

She’s been having greater issues with staying warm. More issues with moving. Strength challenges. So freaking depressing to witness. Stoically bearing it, she complains little. Rocks to stand. Grunts with effort. Hangs on to balance herself.

We went to the growers market this morning. Bought baked goods for a friend and took them to him. He has Parkinsons and cancer. His wife is away on a trip with her sister to Alaska. The woman needed it.

Our friend is doing well. The housekeeper was in, finishing. Said she’d be back at 5. Meanwhile, friends are delivering pizza for his lunch at 2 PM.

It takes a community to cope with these things.

I had a pre-op telephone appointment for my bladder cancer on Thursday. Usual stuff about times, bathing with Hibiclens, drinking fluids, eating, where we’re going, where to park, how long it’ll take.

My wife asked, “What about afterward? What’d they say about that?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. This was pre-ops.”

“They’re all so compartmentalized,” she snapped.

I can’t argue that. It’s very true.

My wife and I chatted about the news. She had just read about Trump’s claim that the economy is the ‘opposite of a recession’.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

This seems like another part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!, an attempt to distract us from what’s really going on.

Anyone living outside of a millionaire’s bubble will probably take issue with Trump’s claims. People are dealing with rising costs associated with energy, housing, food, consumer goods, and healthcare. Trump seems to believe that making these claims will make them true or enough people will simply go along with him on his magic thinking ride.

For the record, for example, oil prices aren’t even down to the levels they were when Trump took office.

Brent crude oil – Price – Chart – Historical Data – News

Beyond Trump’s fractured economic reality, people are awakening to the MOU that ended Trump’s Iran blunder that cost lives and money. They’re basically responding, WTF?

Besides the ongoing saga of the Epstein ballroom construction, we’re also dealing with Algaegate. Trump is straining to point the finger at someone else for the clear disaster that it’s become. It’s such ugly optics, but it perfectly summarizes Trump’s flawed grip on truth, facts, and history.

Today’s music is “Helpless” by Neil Young. Reading the news on some days just engenders that frustration and helplessness, a sense of ‘go do something.’ Protest, scream, call people, write things. Some mornings, I’m a stick stuck in the mud. But I drink my coffee, write out some of my anger. Suck in some air. Count my advantages. Move on for a short while, at least.

“Helpless” is performed by Neil and The Band. Hope you find it worthwhile to hear and watch.

Hope you’re feeling good, doing well, and looking forward to better days.

Cheers

5

A Car Dream

My wife and I were our current age and traveling in her 2003 Gray Focus. I was driving.

We stopped somewhere to eat. It looked like a good choice but after we began looking around more, it turned out to be a mess. Tables were set up as if they were in a fine dining room but it was outdoors, on uneven fields of uncut grass. Many other people were just like us, trying to figure out WTH was going on.

My wife was very hungry and said, “Screw this, I’m just getting some food.” Then she stalked through the grass, where the food was in silver serving bowls among  the clumps of grass. Finding some food, she took it to a table.

I was trying to tell her, “Wait, I don’t think that’s what we’re supposed to do.”

A harried young male waiter hustled to her, asking for her order. She replied, “I’m eating this.”

The waiter turned to me and asked, “What are you ordering?”

I was bewildered. “I don’t know what’s available. Where’s the menu?”

But as I looked around, I saw another family doing as my wife did. Noticing scrambled eggs in a bowl on the ground and a red plate, I picked them up and said, “I’m having this.”

The waiter looked both dejected and smug. Writing something on a pad, he left.

Eating some of our food but not happen with it, my wife and I returned to her car. It was cold outside by then, so I started the car to warm us up. I noticed ice inside the car and told her, “Look how cold it got.” Then I opened windows to let the ice out and continued running the engine to warm the car and clear the windows.

The dream ended on a view of us in her little gray car, waiting for the windows to clear.  

0

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

0

A Road Trip Dream

I was setting out on a trip with three friends. Only one — Ron, an older man — translates to a current real-life person. Ron was just as he is in real life. The others, also males, were known.

One interesting note that emerged and wove throughout were two others, both female. They sometimes joined the journey, and Ron and I discussed whether they would be with us. The two women, both brunettes, one in a red top with black pants and the other wearing a bright blue top, would only appear and not speak directly to me.

We were riding in Ron’s truck. This was beige and big, with a four-door cab and a luxurious tan leather interior. Though Ron was driving, he was in the backseat. I was alongside him. He’d put the car on autopilot, so it was essentially driving itself with him just monitoring what was going on.

I kicked back beside him on the back seat. Stretching my legs out, my foot ended up hitting the steering wheel. That put us off course. Because of the way I was reclined, it took several seconds of jostling to get my foot out of the way. During that time, we went off the road and onto the shoulder but didn’t slow. Ron finally steered us back on course and returned the truck to autopilot, but now he was worried and concerned the police would pull us over.

We arrived at our destination — a huge furniture store. I’d never been to it. The floor was hard dirt. All furniture was antique white. Despite the floor and the limited offering, the store was very busy. The women showed up briefly. The others spoke with them while I went out to another section of store.

The next store section was filled with tables and chrome appliances. The appliances turned out to be food and drink dispensers. Needing to use a restaurant, I did some bowel business but discovered the toilet didn’t have any way to flush. Removing my fecal material with a wad of paper towels, I looked for a way to dispose of it. I found one but they wanted me to pay money to flush it away. I refused, angry and disgusted that they’d monetized flushing away our body functions. I instead found a small white bag, put the materials in there, and set it on a table, telling myself, it would be someone else’s problem.

I then reconnected with my friends. I told Ron that when we went back, I wanted to sit in the front and stretch out and sleep. He looked at me with confusion but didn’t reply. The two women came by. One said she had to go off and find her children.

My friends and I went to another section. People there were seated, waiting to pay for their selections. I stopped before one man and did a giddy tap dance. The man, overweight and big with swarthy skin and a white cowboy hat, ordered, “Stop that.” Laughing, I kept dancing but moved to another section. Another man who I didn’t see said, “Stop that,” but I laughed and danced away.

My friends met up with me again. All were surprised that I was tap dancing and thought it strange. They wondered how I learned it. I replied, “I’ve always known how to tap dance. Nobody ever needed to teach me. I just knew. I just don’t do it much.”

Dream end.

1

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑