Tag: Dream

Satyrdaz Theme Music

A still, flat Ashlandia morning, a time of broken clouds and dissolute sunshine. The ticking clock competes with a far-off crow cawing a morning song. Satyrda, September 20, 2025. Two days before autumn but autumn feels like its taken control. 70 F, 86 F is speculated as the high. Summer is taking its last breaths.

Today’s song filling the morning mental stream is “Rebel Rebel” by David Bowie. I’m not sure why The Neurons laid down the 1975 song today. Nothing in my dreams point to this as the dream’s closing song or soundtrack. Nothing in my empty head points to why The Neurons have it playing as I do the morning deeds.

I enjoy the songs’ lyrics about confusion and rebellion, acceptance and dismissal. This live version plays with the melody. As with anything Bowie, he does it with unique style and fashion.

Hope grace and peace finds and keeps us. I know a lot of us are dubious that will happen anytime soon, if at all. I’m logically in the same arena of thought, yet, as an optimist, I still dream of a better time coming. Cheers, M

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A Cheetah Dream

I dreamed that my wife and I and several family members were traveling together. Just ending a journey together, we arrived at my house. This was a tiny but crowded place with bare cinder block walls. Included among my family was a sister and one of her daughters, and several of her grandchildren.

I was first into the house. Getting in there, I discovered a full-grown cheetah in our house. My arms were full of grocery bags, limiting what I could do. My dream brain said something like, “Holy shit, there’s a cheetah in the house.” The house was a friggin’ mess, so cluttered with junk that I struggled to walk across the floor. As I did try to walk across the floor, the cheetah gently took hold of my shirt tail in its mouth and tried pulling me in another direction.

My wife and others entered. I warned them, “There’s a cheetah in here.” They didn’t seem to pay attention but I continued, “I think he wants me to feed him. I don’t know if it’s male, to be honest, but I think he’s trying to pull me toward his food.”

That’s what the cheetah did seem to be doing. I talked to it like it was my housepet, explaining that I’d feed him in a second, but I needed to put things down and food his food first. Whenever I’d go toward where I thought the food was, the cheetah would get happy and chirp small, high-pitched mews at me. But if I turned away from its food, it’d would swat at me. Never with true menace, but still, it’s a cheetah.

Sometimes I would swear. Then a second sister, who’d joined without being noticed, would remind me of little ones being present, and I’d apologize. My niece’s husband also joined us, making my place very crowded. All through this, the cheetah paid no attention to anyone except me. Meanwhile, I kept asking the cheetah, “How did you get in here?” The dream ended as I reached for food to give the cheetah.

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Wenzdaz Theme Music

The cool night air feels like autumn. But a summer sun gets up and flexes. Blue skies clear of cloud debris help. It’s about 60 F now but we’ll cruise into the low to mid 80s F today.

It’s not just the temperature that informs on the warring seasons. Trees are shifting their leaves. The sun’s approach comes through the southeastern windows in the dining room, then leans back toward the east as the sun clears mountains and trees. Yes, it’s Wenzda, September 17, 2025, and autumn is coming.

I spoke with Dad yesterday. He sounded much better. As he probably wouldn’t survive surgery, he’ll need to recover from his fall injuries through rest and time. He told me that they project that will take six to eight months. In the meantime, he can’t put any weight on his left foot due to the pain it causes.

Today’s music comes from pulling threads. First, I was pulling threads on a dream, asking what a cheetah in a dream means. Then I pulled threads on the plot and characters in a novel in progress. Out of all that came No Doubt’s 1995 song, “Just A Girl”. I see exactly why The Neurons pulled the song into the morning mental music stream after entangling with the Writer and Dream Neurons.

In political news, Trump is in Europe. Well, UK. Polls show he’s growing tres unpopular. That, along with his increasing instability, which we’ve repeatedly witness, will cause him to lash out more and pretend more, like he did when releasing another image of himself as a superhero, which is 180 degrees from who he is. TACO will abuse his office of power more, threaten his enemies and allies more, and tell us all how great and wonderful he is, that he’s our favorite president. Deep down, he knows he’s a piece of garbage but doesn’t care because, thanks to being POTUS, he’s growing richer and more powerful. Some think he worries excessively about the Epstein files being released. I speculate that he knows all the soft and hard data on the economy is pointing to an ugly truth, that he was wrong, and he’s going to be proven wrong, and as that happens, even his most staunch supporters will quietly abandon him.

Coffee is dashing through my bod, delivering its caffeine goodness. Hope you make acquiantance with peace and grace today and it turns into a long relationship. Here we go, into the great wide open. Cheers

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Mundaz Theme Music

Munda, September 15, 2025, has settled in against a backdrop of clear blue skies and warm sunshine. Summer is hanging on, taking us from overnight lows in the lower fifties to an 85 F high. All things end, though, and summer’s last days are coming on in the northern hemes.

I spoke to Dad this morning. He’s still in the rehab center. His voice was not strong. This latest ordeal really seemed to suck his life energy out of him. But…it might also be that he had just gotten out of a very hot shower and said he was sleepy. On a more positive side, my wife seems over her illness. She ate yesterday, picked up a book and read, and went to exercise class this morning.

Had a storm of dreams again last night. Went from being in the military trying to get a haircut to being in charge of a process with IBM and ISS, the Internet security companies where I worked, to recover and shut down security equipment. The latter was a messy, disorganized affair, and no one had done anything, so I was taking it on. Out of the blue toward the end, three young women, teenagers, really, appeared to help me with the computers. They weren’t much assistance at first, as they lacked knowledge but they were eager and energetic. With their help, I began wrangling the mess into something bearing some coherency.

Back to some rock ‘n roll for Munda. I was singing “Honky Tonk Kitty” to Papi this morning after he chirped appreciation for the food being delivered to him. Naturally, my song inspired The Neurons to fire up memory of the Rolling Stones tune in the morning mental music stream, as it’s quite similar to what I was singing.

Today’s project is about getting tree branches cut back from the neighboring apartment complex. I’d do it but realized that some of the branches are higher than my reach, even if I’m standing on a pile of books on top of a ladder where they tell you not to stand because it’s unsafe. I’ve reached out to the apartment complex to start a dialogue about my needs and intentions. They were out of office, so I left a message. Next steps would be to talk with them and then get estimates and get ‘er done.

Hope peace and grace find and lift you up today and every day. Coffee is doing some heavy lifting in me today. Time to bounce on into the day. Cheers

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Sundaz Theme Music

So we have come to another Sunda. This is September 14, 2025. Thirty days hath September (just checked in my head), so tomorrow reaches the month’s halfway point. With the month’s end, we dip into 2025’s final quarter. It’s 65 F. Rain is in the clouds competing with the sunshine. Wind and trees are into a brisk dance.

Autumn is making solid inroads into our Pacific Northwest outlook. Today’s high will drift toward the mid seventies. My wife said, “I don’t mind it if the temperature drops but I dislike it when it’s so dark in the morning. I miss the morning light.” I totally get that and agree. As she went on to point out, the daylight savings situation doesn’t help, with us facing longer hours of early darkness as we begin our days.

My wife and I are trying to plan a trip back home for Mom’s 90th birthday do. However, my spouse said she experienced flashes of light in her eyes the other day as we went around Crater Lake and descended. She wants to have our eyes checked for problems before committing to flying. She’s not had incidents since that day, a week ago yesterday, and it was storming that day, with thunder and lightning. But she’s quite risk adverse. Having her eyes checked is the prudent thing to do.

I read a Politico piece titled, Trump loves AI, and the MAGA world is getting worried. It’s an interesting topic. I’m not surprised MAGA is generally against AI, as they tend to be people who dislike change and are slow to embrace technology. AI promises both fast change, and it’s advanced technology. Of course, Hollywood and television has fed us a dystopian diet of dire developments from AI. We have fears laced with worries baked into our cultural soul.

Other than that, I turned away from the news. It’s Sunda, a slow news day by design in the digital age. It’s more of a day of recap and reflection. I decided I’d do the same. I don’t know how the rest of the world does these things, but I’ll do it with a cuppa coffee, do some writing, read a book, clean, and converse with my wife. It feels like a good chillin’ day.

I dreamed of many cats last night. As I was digesting all that nocturnal churn, Papi and I went out for an early dose of sunshine and deep breathing. That ginger floof acted kittenish, galloping about, tail swishing, and then bounding into the house and across the rooms as I walked in behind him and laughed at his antics. With the sunshine and Papi’s attitude affecting them, The Neurons burst into the morning mental music stream with “Beautiful Day”. This is a U2 song from 2000, before this mess in America flared to its aggravating proportions. I played a U2 melody yesterday. Normally, I don’t present music from the same group two days in a row but this one worked for the moment, and I let Der Neurons’ choice stand.

Coffee has made incursions into my body. May grace and peace be with you and me and the world today and always. Cheers

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A Dream of Quinn

I dreamed last night that one of my cats came back to me. His name is Quinn. He was a tiny, long-haired, blackfoot sweetheart. In the dream, I was cleaning a house, dusting, sweeping, etc. The house seemed to be mine although it was no house recognized from real life.

Quinn, back in the day.

Quinn, a meticulously groomed cat, was matted in my dream. Seeing that, I made plans to thoroughly wash him and brush his fur and get it unmatted. Per his personality, Quinn dashed around. An intelligent and inquisitive beast, he always was there to see what was going on, but he despised change, and loud noises unsettled him and sent him scurrying off to a quiet safe place. So, in my dream, I ceased cleaning and making noise and just worked on coaxing Quinn to me and gaining his trust to de-mat him. I was just beginning to do so when the dream ended.

Papi, my current floof-in-residence, asks, why are you dreaming of other cats?

Oddly, awakening from that dream and reflecting on it stirred memories of living with Mom when I was young. Mom’s home would be noisy with cleaning. She’d get up and leap into action. After scrubbing the kitchen, she’d turn on the dishwasher. Next, a load of wash would be started. While dishes and clothes washed, she’d vacuum, creating a cacophony of modern cleaning. Then would be dusting and a thorough attack on the bathroom. We only had one. If home, I’d often be volunteered to vacuum and dust. Mind you, the house was already spotless before Mom started cleaning, but she always cleaned to the nth degree. In reflection, part of her house-cleaning approach was that her home reflected her abilities in her mind. I also think she reveled in the routines and sounds, as well as the results.

The other thing, on days like this, where clouds handicap the sunshine and cool air dishes it to the land, Mom would busy herself with making hot food like chili. Her chili depended on several cans of dark red kidney beans, a large diced white onion, a chopped up green pepper, a tin of tomato paste and another of stewed tomatoes, and a couple pounds of browned hamburger. I know this because I was also volunteered to help with this process.

I learned a lot at Mom’s elbow.

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Two Dreams to Mention

In the first dream, I was traveling with friends and my wife. A small group, I don’t know the travel’s purpose nor the means. At one point, we encountered a storm. Seeking refuge, we found a house. The house unlocked. We went inside. It was solid, warm and comfortable, but completely unfurnished. There was one book in there. A soft-cover trade book, it was open to a page.

We decided we’d stay there and outwait the storm. Meanwhile, we each went by and checked out the book. I don’t recall any name, title, or colors associated with it. But when we each read the book, we discovered it was different for each of us. I thought it was a thriller/adventure. Someone else thought it was a cookbook. Another deemed it a book of poetry. I read through the book quickly but when I came back to look at it again, it was a different book. It looked exactly as it had and was still open to a page, but its contents were completely different.

We’d stayed in the house longer than planned. Although no food was there, we didn’t get hungry. In fact, we were all in very good moods. Despite the lack of furniture, we were well rested. But we decided to move on if the weather was good. The weather was good. After going out and looking around, I realized we were in a different location. Another noticed that the season was changed. Trying to figure out what was going on, we went back into the house. Through testing and talking, we concluded that the house was a time machine and also moved through space. (Yes, like Doctor Who‘s TARDIS, except this was a house, not a phone box.)

A young couple, people we didn’t know, arrived. Like us, they were taking refuge from a storm, We decided not to tell them what we’d learned, to see what they discovered on their own. Then we’d compare notes.

Dream end.

In the second dream, my wife and I were sitting at a small metal table by the side of a road. Another woman was with us. We were chatting. The table was right off the road’s shoulder and the road was lousy with traffic. At one point, my wife saw a big box truck coming. As it went by, she said, “Oh, there’s the artichoke man. I want to catch him and tell him something.”

Leaping up, she ran after the truck. I was wondering if she caught him and what she was telling him, when a second artichoke truck, identical to the first, roared up the road. This was on a hill and a tight curve. He was going way too fast. The driver slammed on his brakes. He went into a skid and fishtailed hard into a hillside. My wife’s body went flying through the air. She landed on some rocks on her back, her head dangling backwards, unmoving.

I leaped up. A car went by, down the hill, oblivious to the scene. Shouting at the person at the table, “Call 911, call 911,” I looked up the hill. People were running to help the truck driver and another car involved in the accident. I sprinted toward my wife, thinking, I’ll check for her pulse and look for breathing, but I don’t think I should move her.

Dream end.

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A Personally Hopeful Dream

I’m dealing with sludge in my gallbladder. Basically, my bile has thickened. Some of it has likely turned to gallstones. These gallstones have apparently blocked some of my bile ducts. This results in my gallbladder spasming when it tries to deliver bile upon demand from the intestines. That spasm causes more pain than I felt from my kidney stones a few years back. The short-term solution is to avoid red meat and dairy fats, foods and substances that need more bile to break down for digestion. Long-term, they want to remove my gallbladder.

Last night I dreamed that I was with a young white woman. She wore a white toga clipped over one shoulder. I never got a name and didn’t look much at her.

My attention was focused on the scene before me. It seemed like a large model of organs. “What is this?”

She replied, “That’s your gallbladder and liver. See, there is your bile.”

Leaning over to examine it more closely, I took in the many pebbles in the sludge that was my bile. “You made a model of my gallbladder and liver and filled it with sludge?” I was amazed and amused.

“No, these are your actual parts.”

As I digested that with surprise, she said, “Now watch.”

Hand flat and open, palm down, she swept it slowly around my organs. As she did, all the pebbles just vanished. My bile turned from sludge into something more fluid.

I was agog. “How’d you do that?”

She replied, “You’re all fixed.”

Dream end.

Yes, if only it was that easy, right?

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The Water Dream

So there I was…

I’d turned on the water, apparently to water the lawn, a problematic decision because snow and ice loaded the land. I realized all that when I went back and discovered that everything was flooded by a couple inches because I’d left the water on. People were looking out their windows like genuine looky lous. I could hear them commenting, telling each other, “Oh, poor Michael. Look at him. What’s wrong with him?”

The house where I turned on the water belong to Mom. So I figured I needed to turn off that water and reimburse her for what was sure to be an expensive water bill. I had a small paper bag with some money in it, but first things first: I was naked. I needed to dress. I had clothes. Most of it was very fancy. So I dressed out there in the flooded yard in front of the watching neighbors, first with undies, then with a pressed pink dress shirt, finally black dress pants.

Before I could get to my shoes, I saw Mom and accosted her. Her children, my sisters, were with her, as young children. I explained about turning the water on and leaving it on, and that I owed her, so I wanted to give her some money. Reaching into the bag, I pulled out a bundle of money, estimating it as $40,000, and gave it to Mom. She protested, “That’s too much,” but I insisted she take it.

She left and put on my shoes. As I finished that, ‘Dad’ approached. This father was a squat, chunky guy, no at all like my real father. Dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and short black tie, he wore a black bowler hat. I knew he was a drunk and was dismissive and scornful of him. He knew this but still approached, asking, “Can you spare ten dollars for me?” I knew he’d use it for booze but I said, “Yes, of course,” and ended up giving him $40. He profusely thanked me. I replied, “I can spare it.”

As Dad thanked me again and again and walked away, I opened my bag to get a sandwich and eat. As I pulled the sandwich out, I realized the bag was larger than first thought, and full of newly bundled money. As I gawked at the bundles of cash, I thought, there must be four million dollars in there.

Dream end.

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A Happiness Dream

Sometimes a dream comes along that sparks happiness when you awaken and remember. So it was this morning, with four positive things happening to me in a dream last night.

  • I was given a chocolate cupcake
  • A major league baseball team signed me up a new pitcher
  • I signed a book deal with an agent
  • and I received a check for 33,000 dollars

Fun reviewing it all in the AM. The cupcake was dark and decadent. A stranger, female, gave it to me with a smile. She was going along, passing them out from a silver tray. The energy coming from her felt so positive, I never hesitated to eat it. And man, was it good. I offered some to my wife, but she declined.

I didn’t remember trying out for a baseball team, especially as a pitcher. As a young player, I had a strong arm but it was made more for the outfield than the mound. I got an email on my phone that it was probably going to happen: the Cincinnati Reds were going to sign me. Then a phone call was received that verified, yep, it was in the works. “Come in this afternoon to sign the paperwork.” My wife was on her phone when I tried to share that good news with her.

Then, though, after she was off her phone and I began telling her, I received another phone call. This was a literary agent. They’d read my manuscript, wanted to rep me, and already had a publisher eager to buy it. I was floored. As I jubilantly shared that with my wife, a man walked up and handed me a check for $33,000.

And that’s where the dream ended.

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