Tag: Dream

Coins for A Journey Dream

The dream began in a huge junkyard. Discarded household goods abound. My cats, Boo (a house panther) and Papi (aka Meep, Youngblood, and The Ginger Blade) were with me. Running around, they kept fighting, diverting my attention from other events as I break up their fights, scold them, and stop them from stalking one another. They keep at it, first Boo stalking Papi, then it’s the reverse, noisy and intrusive.

Then I’m walking about a densely populated office. Busy, busy, busy, the place is low-ceilinged and enormous. I can’t see either end. I’m lamenting that a major project has been canceled, lambasting management over that, wondering what I was going to do with myself. People agree with me. We’re all disappointed. It’s wrong. It should not have been canceled. A big boss came along and began commiserating. His arm over my shoulder, we walk around, him looking over about to ensure others couldn’t overheard, reassuring me, the project isn’t over, he likes my work and is keeping me on his team, and he has work for me to do. “Don’t worry, good news is coming soon,” he tells me. “Stay patient.” Okay, that buoys my energy. He’s smiling the whole time and claps me on the back as we separated.

Back to walking about on my own, now I wonder, where are my cats? I haven’t seen them for a while. Are they okay? Strangers come up and give me coins. “Found these and thought I’d give them to you, Michael,” a man said, presenting me with a little bag of coins. I find all shiny, new silver inside. New silver dollars, minted this year, quarters, and an oversized silver coin. Shinier than the rest, it just says “The United States of America” on one side and the year, 2021. A mountain range with a sunset (or sunrise) is on the other. It’s larger than a silver dollar, no denomination on it. I guess it’s a commemorative coin. I discover that I already had a red bag of coins. These are added to my collection, where I find that I had another new silver dollar and a large quantity of new quarters.

Pleased and excited, I now become embarrassed as people continue coming up, giving me coins, which are all new, and usually quarters, although some pennies are mixed up in it. “I don’t need all this,” I protest. Others assure me, “Yes, you do, take them with you on your journey.”

That I’m going on a journey is news to me. Others passing by give me throwaway details, “It’s the trip you’ve been waiting for,” “It’s going to be a long road,” “You’ll need those coins to get what you need,” “You’ll need them for where you’re going.” I respond, “Where am I going?” No one answers this question.

Then, excited and happy, outside now in a small and busy city square, I’m walking around, beginning my journey. Laughing to myself, I ask myself, “Are you really going? Are you going to do it?” Others call out greetings and wave to me. It’s a festive air. As a wind blows, I look up at blue sky and white clouds.

Dream ends.

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Messages On A Mountain: A Dream

This was a wild one. Beginning with me dressed in faded raspberry-colored running shorts and a tee shirt, I ran up and down this mountain, receiving, carrying, and delivering messages. The weather was fine, the mountain, high, rocky, and steep, but dotted with bushes and trees. The more I did it, the more effortless it became. I was having fun and getting in great shape, becoming trimmer and more muscular.

All walks of people from my life lined the mountains as I went about my business, including sisters, wife, and friends from different life eras. I stopped to chat with some on some runs. Many commented on my improved physical form, which, yes, made me happy.

A break was taken for a meal. My mother- and father-in-law, both deceased, were present, along with my wife, cousins, and others. Overall, it was a small gathering. My father-in-law and I were preparing the meal, with him more or less guiding me as I worked out what needed to be done. People were seated, waiting to be served. They were along one wall, backs to it, with a table in front of him. I noted that the table was too high and said so to my father-in-law. A cousin pointed out that folded tables along the wall would probably work. I unfolded one and confirmed its height was the ideal height for an eating surface.

I drifted off to another location. We discovered time was going backward. Was it time going backward or our perception that was askew? Perhaps reality was twisted, or was it just our perception of reality. Or was it just the clocks going backwards? Tests were made and the conclusion was reached, yes, time seemed to be going in reverse. Sunrises became sunsets. People, cars, and animals traveled backward. What was causing this and what did it mean?

I discovered that I could drink water and return the clocks to their normal running. Something would happen to cause the reverse order. We learned what but I can’t recall it now. Whenever that happened, though, I drank water and all returned to normal. After testing this for myself and verifying it, I started showing it to the others and explaining it. I discovered that I lost my running shorts, so I was naked from the waist down. That didn’t bother me, or anyone else. I demonstrated again and again that my drinking water restored proper reality. As I showed it to the collective, each required personal observation that it worked. The question became, would drinking water restore reality for others?

That’s when the dream ended.

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The Activities Dream

There were so many of us. All there for activities, as in clubs and sports activities. Buildings, fields, tents and canopies provided the settings.

I was there mainly for racquetball. We had a tournament…seven players. I was ranked fourth. Yes, mid-field, but I was having fun. An elderly white man with a laconic voice approached me and told me that he thought he could help me improve. Was I interested?

Absolutely. He started by telling me he would hit a few balls around to see how I reacted and assess my playing level. Only three balls were hit, though. I returned two of them. The first shot pleased me, the second shot was ‘okay’, but the third was horrid. I was thinking that I needed to improve my racquet control but he was like, “Oh, dear, that wasn’t good.” Interruptions kept him from hitting other balls. We needed to leave the court.

So we went outside. Overcast, a blowing wind put me into a sweater and jacket. My instructor hit a ball. It went wildly askew. With others watching, he encouraged me, “Chase it down, chase it down, get it, get.” I ran and ran, trying to get my racquet under the blue ball…and failed.

Oh, he was disappointed. “We have much more work than I thought,” he announced.

Rain began falling. I took that as an excuse to quit, taking off my sweater and jacket, and putting on a raincoat. I was also concerned that my blanket was getting wet, and had to retrieve it. My instructor said that we’d continue later.

I went into the building and joined a group of young people. Many were female. Inquiring what they were there for, they informed me that they were part of the surfboard building club. Did I want to join? They passed around sample materials and sign up sheets. They were trying to think of other uses for surfboard materials and construction techniques. “What about coffins,” I suggested. Half-serious, I said it would make coffins lighter. I decided not to join that group and went on.

Next stop was the blues society, where they were offering lessons in how to play blues guitar. I signed up for that after some conversation. When I did, I discovered that I was already a member but that my dues were in arrears. I needed to pay five extra dollars to be reinstated. They handed me an electronic pad to sign my name and make the payment. As I did, my wife joined me. For some reason, I didn’t want her to know that I was five dollars overdue, so I hastily finished business and led her away.

The activities center was closing down. We were being urged to leave. Someone called something to us. Apparently, it was about my father joining the blues society. “No,” I answered, “he’s suicidal.” My wife repeated that response to the people asking the question.

We went on our way.

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Star Dust Dream

I was with familiar folks, all male. Outside, we were drinking beer, laughing, enjoying ourselves immensely. In the middle of this, we suddenly embark on a conversation about creation and evolution. Abruptly, it becomes a Socratic style learning session. Information is given; questions are asked. The last question was, “What’s the first part that begins to develop after conception?”

I shouted out, “The brain!”

My friend laughed. “No.”

We then talked about fertilization and conception. Conversation drifted to star dust.

Sitting in shadows, outside on a sunny day, a beer on the table in front of me, I leaned back and held up a finger. On the tip, I thought I saw golden star dust brightly shining.

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Refreshing Change of Dreams

Two other men and I were going on trips. Dressed in business suits with ties, we traveled to the airport in a limo. One would be going on with me while the third was going elsewhere.

We arrived, checked in, and was informed, “You’ve been upgraded to first class.”

Well, that was certainly a pleasant surprise. My friends and I inquired why. The agent didn’t know, so we travelers accepted the news and celebrated.

Then, I was notified that I’d won ten million dollars in a lottery.

Ten million! Wow. Well, it’d be less than that after taxes. Still, there was cause for celebration, right?

I didn’t remember entering a lottery. No matter. I made immediate arrangements to feed some children I’d read about. The man doing the paperwork with me was very snarky about it. I was cold and snarky back.

Then it was onto the plane. As I settled into my ultra-plush first-class seat, I dwelled in fantasies about what changes I could make to my life.

Dream end.

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A Teaching Dream

First, I was required to fly an F-16 fighter jet. Flying the F-16 was just the beginning. I was told, not taught, how to do it, and then did it, no problem. Flying it was like walking with my arms extended to me. I delighted in it. Then the troubles began. I was immediately given a mission. It was at night, with bad weather. I rushed to leave, but oh, no, I forgot my oxygen mask and helmet. Couldn’t find them. Someone else, with derision, gave me another. There were a few other small problems but I put them aside and completed the mission.

After landing, I had a black backpack full of money. Well, other things were in there, but I had many stacks of bundled bills, too. I realized that I had to keep an eye on it. Others were present and trying to steal it. I kept catching them at it, so I didn’t lose any money.

Next, I was selected to teach others. We were being taught to teach something that required twelve steps. After we were given cursory instructions in a classroom, we were given a part to teach. My part of it was ‘supply chain logistics’. A class of new adult students were herded in. The class was about fifty. Someone else began teaching their module. The students were disruptive and the new instructor didn’t take control or even introduce himself. He did a poor job, which our teacher pointed out. I was chosen to go next. I began and realized that I didn’t have my notes or my laptop with my slides. No worries, I’d wing it. Two students, a tall male and female, got into an argument. They stood and walked around, shouting. I went to them and told them firmly to sit down. They did, and I resumed teaching. We were forced to move to the left side of the room because someone else needed the other side. People began going in and out of the classroom. I continued trying to teach. The students started interrupting; I restored order among the group and kept going. Half of the students left. The teacher left, and the other instructors left, but I kept going on, talking to them about the importance of communications, including feedback. As I taught them, I became more comfortable and confident, even though the interruptions grew and confusion swirled around the class. Other groups were meeting in the room, forcing me and my students to circle our desks. Weirdly, I wasn’t in the center of the desks, but walking around the outside, talking to the students. They kept trying to play stump the teacher but I wasn’t having it.

That’s when the dream ended. Funny, but in writing this, it seems very short, but it was lengthy and detailed dream, full of interactions with students and outsiders, and details that I used as examples, like types of aircraft, or making a shopping list and sending someone else to the store. A vey involved dream.

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Today’s Dream

Recurring themes proliferate in recent dreams: traveling. Being in an airport. Lost. Confused.

I had what seemed like one long dream. If it was a movie, it would have been about the length of Gone with the Wind — three hours and forty-two minutes. It just stretched on, and all took place in an airport.

But I’m focusing on one piece. I was traveling with a group of friends, waiting for our flight. We decided to walk down as a group to a corner store to get something to eat for the flight, or while waiting for it. But, we also discussed it and decided to buy food to donate. Thinking of that, I was looking in a large drum. Full of cans, I was selecting two to buy and donate to a food bank. As I was doing that, a large group of people came in through the narrow doors behind me, pushing me forward. I ended up being shoved into another guy’s back. Though I tried not to, I couldn’t help but plowing into him, almost knocking him over.

A big guy with short ginger hair, he was wearing a yellow-print shirt. He turned on me in anger. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I was trying to apologize and explain. At the same time, I had a can in my right hand (a can of peaches, as it was). If he came at me, I was going to swing that can at his head as hard as I could, but I hoped it didn’t come to that.

It seemed likely but as he advanced, a larger man stepped up between us. “He’s already apologized,” this man said to ginger head. “It wasn’t his fault. The crowd pushed him forward. Why don’t you drop it?”

I liked that in the midst of all this, a person was stepping up to help and protect me. Ginger head moved sullenly away and the big guy went on. Then I did the same, proceeding into the next part of the dream.

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A Dream of Five

Oh, we’d been working, a long, hard period. There’d been many of us but now…well, the situation was different. Changing parameters meant only five remained, plus the overseers. I didn’t know who any of these were, outside of myself. Selected as one of the final five, I felt privileged and flattered. Then, classic imposter syndrome kicked in. I had no idea of what was going on.

It seemed like different things were ‘going on’. We were trying to help someone else find direction. There was a map to that effect. But we needed to gain their trust. Also, how did we convey map directions to them? Borders and other problems precluded simple, direct methods.

A huge map dominated one wall. I was summarizing to myself. Fix the borders. Define them. Find the person we were to help. Gain their trust. Get them over the border.

The map seemed to be taking shape. Mountains dominated — very mountainous place. We were adding borders but I stayed mystified. Why were we the ones finding the borders? Didn’t the borders already exist? Asking these questions, I learned in roundabout manner, the borders were known but were lost, so we’re recovering them.

We thought we’d done a pretty good job. Black borders were drawn in, though some areas, like in the south, remained open.

But the overseer was furious. She told us, “You’ve drawn a face.” I looked at the map but didn’t see it. “These are not the borders. You’re running out of time. What is wrong with you? Get it done.”

This berating restored my bewilderment and confusion. Worse, to me, it seemed to make sense to the other four. But I couldn’t comprehend it. What was wrong with me?

I was beginning to feel left out. Abandoned. The other four turned attention to drawing the other to us and gaining his trust. I was befuddled about who the other was. They all knew and seemed to think that I should know. With some surprise and suspicion, I thought a few of the other five were different people. When did that happen? Had they changed?

One stormed in with an idea. He — the one we were trying to lure to us — whoever that was — was a Niki Lauda fan. While I knew about Niki Lauda, this revelation only deepened my confusion. But, wanting to belong, I spouted Niki Lauda info that I knew. Niki Lauda, young scion of a wealthy family. Getting a loan to go racing. Racing in the seventies and eighties. Three time Formula 1 world champion. Big accident, almost killed. Retired from racing, had a failed business, Lauda Air, returned to racing. Also raced BMWs, didn’t he?

Wasn’t sure about that last but saying these things earned a greater measure of trust from the other four. We decided that we needed to rest. There was one bed. The five of us got into it together and rested, shoulder to shoulder on our backs, like we were in coffins. None of us slept. We were too keyed. So much remained to be done. What else did we need to do? The time was almost upon us.

I still didn’t know much but I felt better because I was more accepted and included by the rest. One would always pause to ensure that I was there whenever they went off to do something else.

We had some sort of breakthrough. The end was near. Naturally, I didn’t understand. We were so tired and hungry by then. Going to a new location, a venue where a celebration had been held, we stole in to find food and drink. You can’t be in here, we were told. You must leave. But another said, you can come in.

We went in. A woman came over and told us that we must leave. Another came in and told her that we could stay for a few minutes. She also said there was leftovers for us to eat. They had chicken. Would I like chicken?

Yes, I said. They brought me a bucket. Here’s a piece in here for you, I was told. That’s not chicken, I thought as I picked it up. Something about what it was made me not want to eat it. One of the other four said they would eat it, and took it from me. He tore into it. Rabbit, we all realized, it was a fried rabbit breast. Why would they tell us it was chicken? They lied to us.

I shuffled into another place. There, I saw people dressed in very fancy evening dress who’d been present for a celebration. The celebration was over. They were preparing to leave. A server, male, in white coat and black bow tie, brought me a cup and shot glass on a gold tray. He spoke soothingly to me as he poured a clear liquid in the shot glass and espresso into the cup. I told him I couldn’t drink that now. He reassured me, firmly stating, “Oh, you need to drink both of these now.”

Dream end.

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The Sentencing Dream

I dreamed I’d been caught doing something wrong. Although I can’t recall details, it wasn’t major, like killing anyone, but constituted a significant failure on my part. A short trial found me guilty. Punishment was forthcoming.

I sulked, alone, although surrounded by others, none that I knew of as family nor friend. Returning to where I was staying, I discovered everything being rearranged. My room had been changed, which infuriated me. The whole place was dimly light, very dark, full of shadows. Seeking the common area where I thought I’d read and watch television, really, do anything to distract myself, I found a man there re-arranging everything. “Part of a big project,” he explained. I wanted to know more about this big project. Everything familiar was gone. The books and television had been removed, as had the chairs. The windows were covered, along with every exit except one door. Maroons and dark blues dominated. There was an old carnival funhouse feel to the room.

My exasperation leaped. “What’s going on? What’s the point of all of this?” The guy working on it, snide, young, smug, white, and bald, refused to explain anything, acting as though it was all above me. I had little grounds to do anything because I’d lost my authority as I awaited sentencing.

This drove me to attempt to leave the room. Extricating myself wasn’t as easy as it should have been, as others were coming through the door. Taking initiative, I found a panel which resembled a stylized red and white question mark. I was able to swivel it up and to the left, then leveraged myself out through the small opening.

Although I was outside my shared quarters, I was still in a building; it was buildings in a building. I was wondering when my sentence was going to come down. Maybe the delay was good news. Maybe it was bad. I walked around, spotting some familiar faces, including the judge who’d sentenced me. A few years older than me, he’d been boss and casual friend. Seeing me, he smiled and waved, but the turned away. Others, though, who’d been cool, were suddenly friendly. I’d been feeling like a pariah, I realized, but now they seemed to be letting me back in.

It was giving me hope. The dream ended on that note.

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A Dream of Needs and Waiting

I dreamed I was with a gaggle of people, all clothed, all my age. Mixed races were represented. Males, females, and different sexual orientations were in evidence. We were outside, awaiting movement to somewhere. We were all in our twenties.

A doctor examined me and pronounced me healthy. That cheered me. I felt ready for my trip. It seemed like I’d been planning it for a long time. At last the day was here. I was in good spirits.

Little organization was evidenced. We were just a group waiting, though. How much organization is needed? You ate when desired, or took a bathroom break, if needed. Though we were outside, everything was available.

Then, during a pee break, I discovered blood in my urine. Upset, I went to the doctor and reported it. He immediately examined me and pronounced me healthy. Reassured, I returned to the queuing area and visited with others, chatting about where we were going. None of us were sure about the destiny or what we would find, but we were all sure that it was going to be better than where we’d been.

I took another pee break. More blood in my urine. Upset, I reported in for medical care. The doctor wasn’t in, I was told, but would be there soon. Go back and wait. I’ll be called when the doctor arrived.

I returned to the waiting area. Preoccupied with my medical problem and morose, I sat away from the rest. Time wore on. We became restless, wondering, what’s the hold up? Weren’t we supposed to be gone by now? As we waited, I heard another woman, Michelle, go up and ask for medical treatment for blood in her urine. I didn’t say anything to her but I was interested in her details. They told her that a doctor would be with her soon. She went back and spoke with her friends, all women. I edged closer but couldn’t hear their conversation.

Doctors came in. One was the American actor, Steven Weber. I thought, at last, treatment. But now, general info was made. There was a delay, etc. Be patient. We’ll be with you shortly.

Why couldn’t they just treat us now, I wondered. Tired of waiting, most people drifted away. I stayed where I was. They came in, calling for Michelle. I volunteered that she’d gone elsewhere. They didn’t seem to hear me so I repeated myself. They still didn’t seem to hear or notice me. Admin people talked among themselves. They needed to find Michelle because she had a medical problem. It might get worse. I have the same problem, I said. They told me to wait, a doctor will be with me soon.

The doctors had left while this was happening. Only I remained of the original group. I didn’t know where they’d gone. I was now in a building’s shade. People came down. One was a young boy. He had two fluffy ginger and white cats. One was a kitten. He kept telling everyone that his cat needed medical care. Others tried telling him to relax and calm down, care was coming, but he was adamant, he needed care for his cat right now.

I learned his name was Michael, which was my name. Another child with two cats, calicos, adult and kitten, came into the scene. This child was younger, perhaps six. He walked around telling everyone that his cats were going to pay his bills. The cat wanted to. He did it online. I thought the kid was a little disconnected from reality.

A woman in a black sweater and skirt came by. She was white, with short black hair. I realized as I watched her that it was Heather Graham, the actress. She poured a small cup of water with ice and lime in it and walked around. As she came by me, I thought she was going to throw it on me. I told her not to do that. She answered, “No, you look thirsty. I thought you needed a drink of water.”

The dream ended.

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