Tag: Dream

The Pigeon Dream

It was a dystopian setting. My wife and I were in a small gray econobox, trying to make our way home. Torrential rains reduced the area to a muddy swamp. Mudslides were prevalent. Confusion ruled and more rain was coming. How to get home, where do we go? These were the things we were addressing to one another when a pigeon appeared.

I don’t recall the exact details but we concluded that this pigeon was trying to tell us how to get home. We got the pigeon into our car, along with our cat, the ginger boy, Papi. I started driving. Every now and then, my wife would tell me that the pigeon is telling us to go a certain way, or I’d look at the pigeon and say, “Look, he’s telling us to go that way.”

We reached our home parking lot. Large vehicles blocked the way. Backing, pulling forward, wrenching the steering left and right, I managed to get around them and safely to our garage. We then all went into the house with our belongings, the cat, and the pigeon. We talked about the pigeon saving us. We didn’t think we’d made it without the pigeon. My wife went to feed the pigeon when it attacked her.

She tried fighting it off and couldn’t. I chased the pigeon away. My wife was shouting, “Get rid of it, get rid of it.” Papi the ginger cat went after the pigeon. I didn’t want the cat to get the pigeon.

The cat had chased the pigeon to the front door. While I didn’t want the cat to go out, I wanted the pigeon out. I partially opened the door but as the pigeon beat its wings and pecked at the cat and the cat tried getting the bird, the door closed. Then, someone, the pigeon hooked the door’s edge with its beak and pulled the door open. I caught the cat, the pigeon escaped, and I closed the door.

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The “I can” Dream

Had another parade of dreams. As I’m in buoyant spirits and have a busy day on top, not going into much except for one piece of one segment.

I was high on a rolling green hill. Clouds marred a perfect blue sky but the clouds also dropped a dash of nostalgia into the moment, as it reminded me of being a young boy in Pittsburgh, PA, in the 1960s. I was an adult in this dream, though, but not the adult I am now. I was somewhere south of my current age, but north of being a man. But I was young, slender, strong.

Standing on a hill, I began chanting and clapping, laughing as I did.

“I can, you can, I can, we can.”

As I did this, others joined me. Of about my dream up, they climbed the hill, laughing, chanting, and clapping.

As it went, perspective changed, lifting to enable me to see myself in a crowd of people on a hillside chanting together.

Dream end.

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A Blue Dream

To begin, I was in bed with another man. We’d been sleeping. Both of us were in our undershorts and nothing else. We were young and muscular. He was a little bigger than me. I went to get out of bed but he grabbed me and pulled me back. We began wrestling, with him trying to pin me down. I pushed him up and away while saying, “I’m stronger than I look. It’s time you learn that.”

I leaped out of bed and dashed into the dining room. A large square table was full of people already enjoying breakfast and chatting. My wife was seated at one corner so I went there. Something was on the floor. I bent and picked it up: her Fitbit with its silver mesh band. Beside it was something black: the Fitbit charger. I was annoyed to have to be picking up after her. Getting her attention, I said, “Were you doing something?”

“Yes.” She took the two items. “I was charging my Fitbit. I forgot. Thank you.”

Realizing that I was only in my undershorts — blue bikini briefs — I sprinted back to the bedroom to dress. This wasn’t the same room where I’d been sleeping, but the master bedroom, where my baggage and clothing were. Three young men were in there making the bed. The duvet was a deep blue and the bedroom suite was a beautiful dark wood set. China blue carpeting was on the floor.

One young man came to me and said, “We have bad news for you. We’re going to move this furniture out of here. It’s too beautiful to be in here. It needs to be put somewhere where it can be protected.”

I laughed. “It’s fine where it is, it’s safe.”

The man said, “No, it needs to be moved. It’s barely used and it’s going to get damaged.”

I answered, “It’s used more than you think. If you want something to do, there’s a place where you can go.” I leaned down and pointed out a window. “Oh, you can’t see it, but there’s a little amusement park down there. Oh, wait.” I remembered then that it had closed.

My wife came in. I told her that the young men wanted to move the bedroom furniture to protect it. They didn’t think it was being used. “It’s been used at least ten times this year,” I finished.

“Oh, more than that,” my wife answered.

I said, “Do you remember when your mother brought this bright blue duvet? That was so out of character for her. I was just telling these guys about the little amusement park over there but I remembered that it’s closed now.”

She said, “It’s not closed.”

“Yes, it is. Remember, it changed hands.”

“It went to the Fishers but it’s open.”

“It went to them but they closed it.”

She stuck her hand out. “Bet.”

I ignored her hand. We went outside, toward the mail box. Others came up. My wife got into a conversation. While they were talking, I looked down at my left leg and noticed there was a large pale C on my calf. I thought there had been something wrong with it. Bending down, I rubbed it and the C went away. I discovered that it’d just been something traced in dust on my laugh. I chuckled about that, pleased with the discovery.

Dream end.

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Monday’s Theme Music

Sunrise on this Monday lifted the curtain on a foggy November day at 7:18 this morning. Life outside the windows wear a damp, dull sheen.

It’s the twenty-ninth, November’s penultimate day. Forty-three degrees F is the air temperature, but that fog block minimizes the sun’s presence and lends a chilling effect to the skin. Fifty-nine is projected as a high for today but I’m skeptical; sixties were expected yesterday. Though the sun broke through the fog by three, temperatures never went over the mid-fifties in our valley. I suspect more of the same today before sunset at 4:40 PM.

I have “Blue Monday, Blue Day” by Foreigner (1978) feeding the morning mental music stream. My dreams featured blue and that’s shaded over into the thinking operations. But there’s also that Monday/fog combo invoking a mild patina of depression. Hence, “Blue Monday, Blue Day”.

Stay positive (yeah, I know), test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax and booster when you can. Don’t go gently into that night but into the kitchen for a cuppa coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers

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A Messy Dream

I was at a party and having a good time. Two women were trying to seduce me. Both were my age, and brunettes. One was tall and in a red satin blouse while the shorter one wore a forest green shirt. I was an eager participant. But every time that I was alone with one, an interruption would stamp stop. Once, one of the women became sick and vomited. Hah!

Meanwile, I then went out and off to a place being rented by me and others. The others had children and the children were making a mess. We were due to check out in a few hours. Walking around, I was horrified to discover the children had put food everywhere and seemed to have damaged some furniture. I went back to inform their parents, but they were having a good time and ignored me. After failing to get anyone’s attention, I attempted to dismiss it. Going to a recliner, I settled back. Two of my cats showed me, one on either side, which made me happy. The third cat showed up, wandering around the chair, sniffing. One cat jumped down and started going after the other one. The two cats went running around. I called to them to stop, then went to find them when they disappeared.

Other cats appeared. Two were black and white like the cat of mine who chased the other. Each was walking upright on their rear legs. One had a mop of pink hair on its head. The other had yellow hair. I thought each was my cat, Tucker, but realized it wasn’t. Then Tucker came out, walking upright like them, with a mop of light blue hair crowning his head. I tried telling other people to look at these cats but no one did.

A child had locked something up. A really tiny key was needed. I had one but it broke so I went to a counter where a man offered me a similar key. To get it, though, I needed to subscribe to getting a key a month. I didn’t need a key a month so I wasn’t willing to sign up. Looking for something to work as a key, I found some small toy and broke a piece off. That worked.

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The Balls Dream

The dream was odd. It was about me and two balls. Ahem. These were small hard-rubber balls. They easily fit in the palm of my hand. I’d been traveling with friends. The friends included a person I worked with about fifteen years ago — a female who I’ll call S — along with a male that I didn’t know, who was white and my age, and another female not known to me, but a friend in my dream. The male and I were throwing the ball as we chatted. First, we seemed to be in a mall but moved on to a gathering that was by a beach. As we went, we encountered other people, talking with them.

I also discovered a special affinity with the balls. Although dull red and normal in appearance, I discovered that I could hurl them with great power and accuracy. I first found this on my own, then decided to explore it with my male friend. This happened first in the mall area. He was about fifty feet away. I thought, I can really put some speed on this. Worried about him not being able to catch it, I refrained from throwing it too hard. After visualizing a six-inch square target in my mind, I threw it with impressive velocity. It landed right where I wanted but he had trouble managing to bring it in.

S joked with me about the balls. Out on the beach, I explained to the male friend that the ball was energized; I fed off its energy and it fed off mine. It was a matter of being in the moment. I thought that anyone could do it. He asked for a demonstration of what I meant. I sent him out into the water because I didn’t think he could catch it and I didn’t want it hurting anyone. When he was about a hundred yards out, with waves splashing over his knees, I whipped the ball at him. It shot out above the water with a little rooster tail. He flinched and missed it. The ball skipped into the water.

But I had a second one in my hand. Using the second ball, I called the first ball back to me. My throwing prowess catch the attention of the crowd. They clamored to see more. I discovered by trying that I could throw the ball in a high, long arc that would bring it back to me, and that I could catch it. After I demonstrated this, others gathered, including male and female children. I kept telling them that they could do it, too, and then would throw it to show them. They would try to repeat what I was doing but kept falling short. Some tried catching the returning ball when I sent it off in a long arc, but it would usually come in too fast for them. Even when they missed, I could put out a hand and have the ball return to me, even after it rolled to a stop on the ground.

S said, “You’re pretty good with those. I think that’s something special.” I thanked her with a laugh. That’s where the dream ended.

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The NASA Job Dream

I’d come to work in my car, a glossy black Porsche 911. It’s a vintage model from the early 70s. My job was with NASA, and I wore a black suit with a vest to work.

The work complex was bustling and enormous, featuring sleek trains to transport people around the campus. I went up an elevator to my office. It wasn’t huge, about fourteen by fourteen feet, with a desk, some plants, and standard office furniture. Pleasant, modern, functional. But, I shared it with another person. He had it during the night, and it was mine in the day.

My car had gone through some kind of mess enroute to work, and I was dismayed by its state. A man came along and told me he could detail my car while I worked. That was fine with me and I agreed. Going into the office, I discovered that my job was being terminated. A friend and co-worker came by and told me that I could find another job somewhere in the organization and encouraged me to take a walk through the halls to see what came up. Other workers greeted me friendly. They’d heard the news that I needed a new position. I stopped by an office that had three large letters in gold above the arched doorway where a large, jolly man told me to come in and see him. Going on, we stopped by another office where a second man mentioned that I’d promised him to come by before, and encouraged me to visit with him about a position. A third man encountered at a different office said the same.

My friend and I headed back to the office. He was clapping me on the back, telling me, “See? I told you you’d find another job.” I agreed and felt much better. It was about the end of the work day so he went off to go home. I went to find my car.

It was still being worked on but he’d done a great job. I had to hang around the office complex while I waited. Meanwhile, a friend of his came by and asked me if I had a bar. I didn’t understand what he was saying, but I thought it was bar, and replied that I didn’t have a bar but one was available nearby. They became excited and asked if they could use it. I was perplexed; sure, of course. The friend hurried off and came back in a minute with a wad of cash, which he proffered to me.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Money for the bar.”

Conversation to clarify what was meant ensued. I realized what I heard as ‘bar’ was ‘badge’. They wanted to use my badge to enter the building. “No, no, I can’t do that,” I said. “It’s illegal and a security breach.”

The friend went away, irritated and disappointed. My car was done. I was charged $300. It was more than I’d expected but I paid. I was then ready to go home. But I had all these things that I’d brought with me. They couldn’t fit into the car. I don’t know what this stuff was, but I’d apparently been carrying it around.

Aha, I thought. I’ll take it to my office. I went up there. The guy who uses it at night had a meeting going on. Well, just had to interrupt. I stepped in, apologizing, telling them that I was the one who used the office in the day and I had some stuff to put in it. Mock boos rained over me but they laughed as it was done. I laughed, waved good-bye, and left the office to go home.

Dream end.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

I’m just sitting here watching the weeks go round and round, I really love to watch them roll.

So we’ve rolled into another Saturday, designated by the powers and systems as November 20, 2021. Not quite as graceful as yesterday, when it was 19, 2021, but still, with a nice symmetry. Sunrise popped in on us in the valley at 7:07 AM, fog free, smoke free. Silky layered pewter clouds are lazily stretched over most sky. Just a little blue skin showing. While it’s 36 F now, the powers say that our high will be 55 before the world turns, the sun descends, and darkness throttles the land again at 4:45 PM.

Dreams were of an unusual variety with a distinct Chinese flavor, in which I was a boy in China watching a parade and observing other things. Can’t specify if I was Chinese, but I was about six to eight, I think, on a warm day, in shorts, in a city. I feel the book I just finished, When We Were Orphans, set largely in Shanghai, affected the dream, yeah?

Now, as I’ve started with John Lennon and “Watching the Wheels”, I think I’ll dub it today’s theme music. After all, it is going round and round through the morning mental music stream. Might as well put it to work. The song was released in 1981, after his murder, and I’ve always attached sentiments to it from that.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax and boosters when you can. Don’t just sit there watching the wheels go round and round. Let them take you somewhere. Mine are taking me to a cup of steaming black coffee. Watch me go. Cheers

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The Map & Tiles Dream

A hodgepodge of dream remnants, like leftovers pulled from the refrigerator, made up the dream sequences last night. Most vividly, I was trying to install tiles. First it was on a floor, but, oh, wait, no, they’re on the wall. Well, did I think they were on the floor? People were walking on them. Were they walking on the walls?

The rectangular tiles were about the size of a brick’s side. First, they were clear; then they were white. All seemed the same shape. You’d think fitting them together would be easy, but I ran out of the wits to do it and kept starting over to get it right. Yet, it wouldn’t come right.

Then a tall and thin white man, bald and stooping, with sunglasses (and in a suit with tie) came by to inform me that I’m following the wrong map. He walked on even as I said with heaping bewilderment, “Map? What map?” I went to resume placing tiles but the stacks of tiles were gone. I began walking around, looking for them, because I was certain that they were right beside me. I hadn’t moved, so how did they move? Where did they move to? Someone must have taken them but that would have taken effort. Wouldn’t I have noticed that?

The tall thin man returned. Annoyed, he said, “Look.” He held a map on a clipboard up. I looked. The map was white with a bold red line. “This is the path that you’re supposed to be following. Follow it and you’ll be fine. Look at it. Memorize it.” Before I could do those things, he moved on.

I then saw the stacks of tiles. They seemed to be where I thought they were supposed to be. But the tiling was all done. I was left asking, what am I doing?

That segment ended but another began.

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The Command Complex Dream

I arrived at a command complex. Although ultra futuristic in appearance, full of technology, it was no longer used. I wasn’t associated with it or the military but was familiar with it because of my past, and found it a friendly space. There were no windows and only one door, standard for such places, which were like vaults. Dark blue dominated, with matching carpet and walls. The console positions were all flat black glass with touch screens. As I went about exploring, others entered. I realized that they, like me, were past military. None of us were in the service any longer. We all chatted and introduced ourselves.

We realized some event was taking place. Console positions were powering up on their own, displaying incoming threat analysis. Despite this, we were all in high-spirits. Many people sat at console positions, taking the problem on. As I examined the consoles, I noticed that lines of red and yellow lights circled the positions and were growing brighter. Somehow, I recognized this as a trap. Warning the others, I told them to back off the consoles because something was about to happen. After they all drew back a few feet, the positions opened and emitted spurts of gas. If they’d been where they were, they would have been affected, so my warning saved them. All were grateful.

Things wound down. I got on my hands and knees, checking something out. As I was, I looked up to see a tall, white man enter. I knew he was retired four-star general. He paused as he reached me. I realized I was impeding his way and discovered my legs and feet were somehow under the carpet. As I apologized and laughed, wondering how I’d managed that, he brushed it off as inconsequential and went past. I stood and joined him. We chatted about trivialities and the shook hands and he left.

Others had come in again. One was a black female. I joined her at a table but then was called over by two other women. They were over at a display and had discovered a curtain. It had SLIDELL sewn on in in yellow thread. They asked if that was me. I said that it could be because one, sometimes people used that as a variation of my name, and two, such a misspelling sometimes showed up on correspondence. But, I said, I thought it was doubtful because we were at Bitburg AB in Hahn, Germany, and I’d only been there twice.

I returned to the table in the back and chatted with the seated black woman, sitting beside her as I did. I knew her and we exchanged information about what had been going on in our lives since we’d last seen one another. Others then came in and sat down opposite her. I realized after a moment that people were arriving to pay her homage. I thought it inappropriate to be sitting with her because that was a position of honor and she was the one being honored, but she told me to stay beside her. I did as person after person arrived to tell her how great it had been working with her.

Dream fade out.

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