Tag: Dream

The Heart-Attack Dream

It began with me in bed, at night. Pain was rushing through me. I couldn’t see nor hear correctly. I thought, I’m having a heart attack.

No one else seemed present. The heart attack would come and go in waves. I tried calling for help but couldn’t. I decided that I’d work through it by thinking of what I was feeling and experiencing, and then countering those things with my mind. That seemed to work, as the pain faded and the heart attack passed.

The lights came on. A large spider, I’d say two feet tall, was to my left. I acknowledged its presence and left the room.

I’d survived, I decided. Outside the bedroom, in another room, were my wife, a few friends, and a dead cousin. As I looked around, familiarization flowed in. I knew where I was. We need to go home, I announced to the rest. They talked about this, objecting, how are we to do that?

But, I judged, the weather isn’t bad, so I’m walking. It’s only a few miles and it won’t take long.

They didn’t believe that I was serious. Shrugging them off, I left. My wife and a few others joined me.

The road was a rough, one-lane, dirt and gravel road that rose, fell, and wound through sparsely populated, wooded countryside. As we went, we’d see a car coming, call out, “Car,” and then step off the road until it passed. Impatient to continue my journey, I announced that I’m running.

At that point, I realize that I had a foot injury and had been limping. I thought, I’ll have to push myself through my foot’s pain and stiffness. Behind me, the others said, “He’s not serious, he’s not going to run.” But I started running, gritting my teeth against my pain. Soon I found a stride.

The others started running behind me, but I was well ahead. Seeing the road, I’d call, “Car,” as a warning to them, and step aside until the car had passed us all, and then resume running.

I reached home. Uncles were there. They offered me wine, but it was white wine and I turned them down. Dad arrived with a girlfriend. He offered me some white wine, but I turned him down. I wanted some wine, though. I was getting ready to go somewhere.

Passing into another room, I saw Dad’s girlfriend asleep in the living room. I went into the adjacent kitchen. I found a bottle of white wine but kept looking for red wine. As I didn’t find anything except white wine I thought, maybe I will drink some.

Dad came in. While talking to me, he produced a bottle of white wine in a light green bottle in a clear plastic bag, like a gallon-storage bag, and showed it to me. It’d been opened, but had a cork put back into place. “That’s what you’re drinking?” I asked. When he said that he was, and offered me some, I answered, “Well, pour me a glass, I guess.”

As he did, his girlfriend awoke in the other room. She came in and introduced herself to me, which annoyed Dad. We talked for a few minutes. Then we talked about cars, and who was using what car.

The dream ended.

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The Photograph Dream

It was such a short and simple dream. As I was in the kitchen, I froze with a question in my mind, did I dream that or imagine it?

Walking back through thoughts, I eventually went into my office. Sitting there, dream fragments surged forward.

I’d dream that I was with a group of people. I think we were at a flea market or something, as tents and canopies were set up. The place was very busy. It sort of reminded me of a flea market I visited in San Jose, California.

Walking around, I’d found a number of old photographs piled on tables. Most were in color. I didn’t see anyone I knew in the photographs. They were photos of people at holiday dinners — Christmas, Thanksgiving, etc. — vacations, and birthday parties. Some seem to be retirement parties or celebrations. Everyone looked happy and were raising glasses. Most were of different people but as I looked, I recognized some that were the same people in different photos.

I wondered how the photos had come to be there, what had happened to the people? Photographs of such happy-looking people, and here they were, collected on a table. As I held a photograph and thought about that, I looked out from under the tent and saw people outside taking selfies or photographs of one another as they held things.

The dream ended.

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The Celery Dream

The story begins in a house. I know it’s mine, but it’s enormous.

I’m in the living room, which is probably two thousand square feet. Huge plate-glass windows line three sides. Rain is falling outside. Under one side of the windows, I have a stone wall with a rock garden, small hill, and waterfall. Several broad-leafed green plants are growing in the rock garden. Yes, this is in my living room.

Three cats reside there with me, and they’re running around. My wife lives there, too; I know (in the dream) that she’s in another part of the house. We also have a few visitors.

I’m dealing mostly with the cats, feeding them, playing with them, while glancing outside at the rain and chatting with my visitors. One of them (Bob) calls attention to some water he sees on the floor in another room.

After going and confirming that a small puddle is in the kitchen, I call out the news to my wife and then begin inspecting the kitchen, looking for leaks, until I’ve discovered where it seems to be entering. Well, I’ll need to take care of that, I announce while wondering about its severity.

Then, quick change, I’m looking for the cats. One, a short-haired orange and white tabby, has gone outside. I go out after him. My yard is enormous. One side borders a sidewalk alongside a street. The cat is enjoying my efforts to capture him, capering across the green grass and evading me with mischievous ease. Then the cat stops in the game to look up the sidewalk. Following his look, I see a large orange and white cat (it looks like a Maine Coon Cat) coming down the sidewalk, tail up. The cat looks like a large, long-haired version of my cat. I comment on that to someone.

I’m back inside my house, but I’m gone down into the garage. Like other parts of the house, it’s huge, enough space for perhaps a dozen cars. None are there now. It’s spotless cement.

I’m preparing a fix. Although I knew what I was doing in the dream, I don’t know now what I was fixing, but I was planning to use celery. To fix whatever it was with the celery, I was using a chisel to break stalks of celery into small plugs. I had problems with some of the celery stalks, and then stopped because my visitors came down to find me, and I didn’t want them knowing what I was doing.

After I hid the celery and went to speak with them, the dream ended.

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A Double-Feature Dream

Two dreams stayed with me from last night. The first was short and simple. The second was like a movie.

My wife and I came outside in the first dream. I’d helped a neighbor with something. When we came out of the house, we saw that our landscaping was trimmed, cleaned up, and weeded. We guessed that the neighbor, who had their landscaping done professionally, had their landscaper come over and take are of our lawn as a gesture of thanks. After checking it out, we went back into the house, then came back out and saw that more landscaping had been done. It looked great, and we commented on that.

The dream ended.

The next one was like a movie. I didn’t appear to be in it. It was all about a race of  dark-skinned, golden-tone people. Slim and muscular, they were beautiful.

Living in the mountains, they struck me as amazingly civilized and cultured. While I was watching them, I was torn between whether this was on Earth or another planet, and whether the people I watched were humans or another species.

With a bright, hot sun burning down on us, I followed a man and woman. They seemed to be high-ranking officials, but not the ultimate rulers. Wearing a speedo and a bikini respectively, they were on some kind of cursory inspection, talking about what had been done and what needed to be done.

As they finished, they came to the top of a tall, narrow waterfall. People swam in a pool of water stories below this vantage. As they were watching, the woman stumbled. After saying, “Oh, shit,” she began plunging over the waterfall. While that was happening, the man said, “You’ll be okay, just turn it into a dive,” which the woman was already changing her body to do. As she arced down in a graceful dive, the man continued in a conversational tone, just remember to hit the water shallow, and then angle up to avoid the steps.”

I was following the woman’s dive and saw her slip into the water, then rise up over some stairs that were under the water (she stayed underwater ), and then continued gracefully swimming.

The man said, “Yes, there, you did it. I knew you could.”

The dream ended.

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The Cake Dream

Another anxiety dream, this one featuring cake.

Something had happened in the dream previous to this moment but its pieces are like sand in the wind. With the wind calming, I found myself in another place.

A younger version of me entered a hotel ballroom. Brightly lit chandeliers hung over the  gathering. Everyone, including were well-dressed, with most (including me) wearing a black tuxedo with black tie.

Everyone milled around, as if waiting for an event to start. Lost when I first entered, I slipped to one side to get out of the way and figure out what was going on. Multiple tables were set with tablecloths and centerpieces featuring burning candles. On either end were tables. Seeing something on those tables, I went to them.

The tables were full of elaborate cakes. Seeing them, I became ravenous. I wanted a piece of cake but there weren’t plates, knives, or forks. How was I supposed to get a piece of cake?

Feeling nervous, I decided that I was going to leave. As I began turning, a woman in a shimmering silver gown approached me and announced, “There you are.” I thought she might someone else and tried stepping out of her way, but it was clear that she meant me. Even as she changed course and addressed me, I backpedaled, almost banging into the table full of cakes. God, what if I knock them all over, I worried, almost seeing the mess that it would make.

With the woman coming to me, others were coming my way, too. The woman was talking but I couldn’t comprehend what she was saying. As she reached me, she took my arm in hers and asked, “What cake would you like?”

I said, “I don’t know, they all look good, but I don’t see any plates.” I was looking for plates, knives, and forks, and then, with surprise, saw that they were on the table. As I mused, how did I miss that, thinking they weren’t they before, the woman said, “It’s all for you. Take whatever cake you want.”

Distrustful of her (and leery of more people) (mostly men in tuxes crowding around me), I told her, “I think I need to go.” As I disengaged myself from the woman, a tall man stepped up and held out a plate of cake to me. “Just take the cake,” he said in a gentle voice.

I laughed because I thought he said, “This takes the cake,” but I was also confused because I didn’t know what he meant. Still holding the cake toward me, he said, “The cake is yours. Take the cake.”

The dream ended.

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The 192 Dream

A military dream, again, but with a twist.

I told my wife that the Air Force wants me to return to active duty again. She laughed. “Let’s do it. We can travel.”

I replied, “That’ll be enlistment number 191 for me.” We laughed at that.

(Real life note: I spent just over twenty years on active duty in the military, with one break in service. I’ve not gone back in since my retirement almost a quarter of a century ago.)

So I went in. I’m in a fresh uniform, sharp as hell, feelin’ good and lookin’ good, you know? We’re walking around a large multi-function building – personnel and finance offices, admin offices, mess hall and open mess, exchange and commissary, along with a food court, barbershop, eyeglass place, medical facilities, and fitness center. People are coming up and introducing themselves. We’re enjoying ourselves.

My spouse goes off with other spouses to do something. I keep wandering around on my own. I get a call. They’re offering me a promotion, if I’ll enlist one more time.

I run into my wife. She’s heard the news and encourages me to do it. I answer, “That’ll be number 192 for me.” That makes us both laugh.

That’s the dream.

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Friday’s Theme Music

Yeah, another song that seems like a remnant from the dreamscape that’s slipped through the filters between the worlds and ended up in the stream of my consciousness.

“Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin'” by Journey has an entertaining hard-rock bluesiness to it, delivered by the beat and that piano playing. The lyrics are based on a true story experienced by Steve Perry, according to memory, which claims it heard that factoid on American Top 40 whilst stationed at Randolph AFB, Texas in 1979. Drove a lovely Pontiac Firebird then, which we’d just purchased new. I was back in the military after a year’s break. Owned a restaurant and attended college during that break, but that’s another story.  Big news of that year is that the Shah of Iran, the end of the Iranian Monarchy, and the Iranian hostage crises. Jimmy Carter was POTUS. Remember any of that? Seems like a million years ago.

As for the dream? Ah, that’s another tale. It needs thought about more to be writ about.

Like Steve Perry’s leather pants?

 

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The Flagman Dream

I spent a lot of time thinking about this one. 

To begin…I’m in some ill-defined place (think of petroleum jelly smeared across a camera lens and you have a sense) that’s green, white and black (think white sidewalks and buildings (maybe), and a grassy pitch) (I think the ‘black’ were dark windows, but I’m not pos). It’s a big, noisy crowd, and I’m with a small group in this rowdy crowd. It reminded me of a Pink Floyd concert I went to in Germany back in the late eighties, where one hundred thousand people swallowed my group of five.

We’re meeting others, laughing and having fun, when I see a man off to one side raise and lower a flag. It happens so fast on my vision’s edge that I’m not certain that I saw it. I’m momentarily at a loss, wanting to continue what I was doing versus going to check on the man with the flag. Why was he there? Was the flag for me?

As the dream’s events progressed (and I kept going), I thought, wait, was that a white flag or a green flag? Uncertain, I thought again, I should check, but was distracted by others, and didn’t. Then, with a start, my memory said, that was a checkered flag. But a checkered flag is used for finishing a race while a white flag is used for surrender or to warn that one lap remains. A green flag means go.

Those conflicting ideas took me out of the crowd. I needed to know which flag it was. I had to find the man with the flag and see what flag he’d waved and if it was for me. I didn’t believe it was for me. As I remembered him, I thought he should be easy to find; white, he was short with a small mustache, and was wearing a bowler hat. Someone wearing a bowler should stand out, except he’d been so short, I thought that would make it hard to find it.

Perusing that dream thinking, I saw bushes and concluded (with some excitement) that he’d been over by the bushes to the side, or maybe some bushes somewhere else. Now separated from the crowd, I hunted for bushes and then thought, go back, go back to where you were, retrace your steps and you’ll be able to find him, right? Sure, made sense. But there’d been no markers or landmarks that I could remember. My friends, who might’ve been able to help me, were nowhere in sight.

So it was that I found myself alone, unsure where I was or where I’d been, searching for something, looking for something with only a vague idea of it.

That’s where it ended.

 

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A Stormy Mountain Dream

Well, dreamed that I seemed to be on a pilgrimage. At first, I traveled with others, about thirty of us, I’d guess. I knew a few, but none were intimate friends.

We were all walking together on a road or a path (it didn’t seem clear). We’d left a city and were now into the countryside.

We came to a small house. Many announced they were stopping to rest or had decided that they’d gone far enough. But it was light. I wanted to keep going. With a few accompanying me, we went on. Walking faster, I’d assumed the lead.

Glancing back, I discovered that more people had dropped out. The remaining were far behind. I waited for them to catch up. They slowed. Exasperated, I walked back to them. They told me that they were stopping to rest.

I shrugged and asked if they minded if I went on. I felt driven at that point. I realized that we were heading toward a mountain, and I wanted to get to the top of it. I told them that. They laughed. They weren’t planning to go that far. If I wanted to go on, that was alright with them.

Their condescending tones told me their impression of my desire. It irritated me. Deciding that I was done with them, I told them, “See you later,” and left.

It was still bright daylight, but parts were darkening. I realized a storm was coming. No, then I saw that to climb the mountain, I had to go through a storm.

Well, alrighty. I hesitated some but remembering the others’ tone restored my will. I was going on.

Now I reached the mountain. The paths ended at the bottom. It was steeper and taller than I’d realized. Looking for the easiest path, I couldn’t find one. Just had to go for it. I was tiring, and entertained thoughts of going back. Looking that way, I was surprised how far I’d gone. I’d gone up more than I realized, and the view of a broad valley was stunning. Far away, I thought I could see the city.

I couldn’t believe that I’d gone so far. The city’s buildings were barely visible. I’d gone miles, but it’d only been a day. I also thought it odd that it stayed daylight for so long. Well, that didn’t make sense, which made me chuckle.

Then I turned back to the mountain. Holy moly, it seemed incredibly steep and tall. There was no way that I could get up it. At this point, I had to crane my head and neck back to see any of it. What I did see seemed like sheer granite walls. This would be a climb, and I wasn’t ready for it.

But I’d come so far that I didn’t want to go back. After vacillating a bit, I spotted a place that seemed like a way up and started up the mountain. Big, hard, cold drops of rain fell on me. There weren’t many, but they were huge and hurt when they hit, and were incredibly cold, sending shivers through me.

That slowed me down and returned me to thinking, do I want to go on? I didn’t really decide but felt like I’d let myself down if I didn’t, so I resumed walking and climbing. Sometimes I could walk, but then would come to a place where I’d need to climb, so I did what had to be done to get up the mountain.

Harder, more thorough rain suddenly erupted, soaking and freezing me. I hunted protection in the rocks and found a little. Hunkering down, I put my back against rocks and shivered and rocked from the cold. A wind would sometimes blast me, forcing me to duck my head. I tried looking out over the valley but the storm blocked the view. Feeling miserable, I cursed myself for trying this.

After a while, the rain relented. I’d become numbed to the cold and decided I had to do something, so I’d go on. Moving might warm me. Leaving the rock’s shelter, I discovered a path and started walking up the mountain, no problem. While I did, I discovered that I’d been praying.

Praying is contrary to my nature. I wasn’t sure what I prayed for. At some point, I found that I’d walked out onto a rock ledge. The rain didn’t fall there, although I could see it still fell in places around me. Lightning struck me, lighting me up in a purplish aura. I saw myself standing on the rock with my arms stretched out, lit up in a light purple aura, as a bolt of lightning stayed attached to me.

The dream abruptly ended then with me sitting up in bed and sucking in a breath. Thinking back on it, I thought, I’d been praying for magic.

Looking back on the dream versus writing it, I can’t convey how fast it went, just click, click, click, jumping from scene to scene, image to image. It’d been a very fast-moving dream, and I haven’t been able to convey that. Remembering it, though, my heart beats hard and fast.

Odd, but I think I dreamed this before. It seems so familiar.

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General Intelligence Dream Trend

Before last night, I had a dream with the same theme three nights in a row. The theme for them was one, back in the military (again), two, going to see a general about an intelligence matter.

In the first dream, I’d received information via a white paper. I was distilling the information for use in something else. Some of what I read wasn’t clear to me. I took the unusual step of calling the general for an appointment to clarify what he meant.

Real life background. I was enlisted in the military, retiring as an E-7. General officers are a big deal. I worked with several but I would never directly call one to ask for more information.

Intermission over. The general was accommodating and set up an appointment for mid-afternoon on the next day. The dream was then sort of a scramble between the call and the appointment time. Things kept going awry. Uniform items were missing. Yeah, classic anxiety dream.

Awakening, I thought, geez, another military dream. I also thought, humorous, isn’t it? Calling a general (a higher authority) for more intelligence (ha!) and then scrambling to meet the requirement levied on me.

I was comfortable with that, but the next night, I dreamed that something had gone wrong. A messy situation had evolved (details were murky and ill-defined, but I knew with the dreamsense that often takes place that I needed to take action) and I determined that I needed to call a general to get more intelligence. Those were actual words used in the dream.

Two in a row, I thought the next morning. Feeling a little inadequate, are we?

The third dream carried on most of the theme from the second dream. Call the general, get more information, but now pursuing a mad scramble to ‘get it all together’. My hair needed cut to be within regs, I couldn’t find a clean uniform, and then raced to find shoes. Yeah, clear messages from me, to me, about feeling inadequate and stuck in place (which was reflected in my writing energy later that day).

Then, walking and reflecting yesterday, along came The Traveling Wilburys with “Heading for the Light”. Well, I’m hoping that I’m heading for the light. Last night’s dreams included being on a television quiz show, but it was mostly backstage action of getting ready. I was being coached but I kept getting lost.

The dream ended with a production assistant (a young, short woman wearing a headset) finding me in a dark area back stage. I was speaking with others. She rushed up and said, “There you are. It’s time.”

I replied, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Hope I’m right.

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