Tag: Dream

‘Nother Military Dream

Yes, it was another military dream. This one was all about flight-following, on the surface, but I found it was about change.

Flight-following is a low-level task in Air Force command posts that often consumes a lot of time. Flight information — mission number, type of aircraft and configuration, tail number, kind of mission, scheduled times and durations, aircraft commander’s name, etc. — are posted in logs and folders, along with getting written on big boards. The info necessary to coordinate and track safe and successful missions are called in via radios and telephones from multiple ground agencies and the aircraft. It was done on paper on in grease pencils on plastic boards when I was in the military, but as small computers were coming out, I saw them as ideal for coordinating all of this via electronics. Naturally, as I progressed in rank and responsibilities, I did less and less flight-following.

Anyway, we weren’t flight-following anything in this command post when the officer in charge announced that it was decided that we should. As the dream progressed, I was trying to explain to her that it’s not as simple as just making an announcement. She insisted that we were only going to do certain missions.

I spent the dream talking with others about it. Old, unused flight-following boards were revealed on the walls, so once upon a time, flight-following was done there. Meanwhile, several young lieutenants came in to agree with me, telling others that they thought that this was a mistake, surprising me with their insights.

Not a weird dream at all, a very affirming dream, it was all about change, of expecting something to come around again. The dream didn’t much surprise me; I feel like there’s been an energy shift, and then decided that I’m opening myself up to change, and I’m expecting change. It reminded me that change is part of cycles. That sums up my personal philosophy: change is part of cycles, and it resides on a circular spectrum, and it’s always moving. Sometimes it goes retrograde, but it’s always moving.

I think the dream was just telling me, yep, changes are coming. We’re sliding along the spectrum one more time, going back to something to go forward.

0

Wednesday’s Theme Music

I think I dreamed I was a woman last night. It was a modern dream, and I seemed to be in a competition, not like Miss U.S.A. or anything, i.e., a beauty pageant, but some game.

I use a lot of qualifiers because not much is clearly remembered. Out of this disjointed morass and the sense that “I have a feeling” came the song, “Hooked On A Feeling”.

The B.J. Thomas (yes, of “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” fame) version came out in 1968, when I was twelve. It didn’t do much for this boy but had sufficient air time and exposure that I learned all of its nuances and words. I prefer the Blue Swede version that came out in 1974 (year I graduated high school) and its “oga-chukka, oga, oga” beginning.

Yeah, silly.

I included both version for your convenience. I admit, B.J. had a great voice, and the sitar opening is intriguing, but that oga, oga…come on.

0

A Bewildering Dream

My dream began with me searching for things, ordinary things, like canned food. The setting for it was nothing sinister or confusing. It seemed like I was in a pristine housing suburb.

Others began explaining to me that ordinary things weren’t available. Why not? Because of the invasion.

“The what?”

It had to be explained to me that aliens had invaded. Further, everyone was scavenging for supplies because everything was disappearing. I don’t know where I’d been when all of this had happened, but shrugged that off.

While accepting their explanation, I suggested we should still search for food and supplies that could help us. I was confident that we could find things even though everyone else was saying, no, everything is gone.

I couldn’t believe it. There’d been a war here, an invasion? There was no evidence of it. Although I didn’t see many people — I was told that they were all in hiding — nothing was damaged. It was a lovely day, rich with sunshine and warm, fresh air. With so many abandoned houses, I was sure that we could find food and supplies. I coerced a few people into helping me.

Few supplies were to be found, though. I made people take whatever meager stuff we did find, insisting that we could find uses for them. Everyone was downcast and pessimistic; I was being upbeat.

Screams arose. The aliens were coming. People began running in fear. “I see you,” I heard a loud voice.

“Who was that?”

That was the alien giant.

I wanted to see him. He arose above houses, a huge Humpty-dumpty looking balloon. This was the alien threat? “Yes. Hide,” others answered.

Dubious, I took cover with others, ending up in an office building. Continuing to look for supplies, I discovered other people. They’d set up secret camps in abandoned offices and suites. They didn’t want to let me and my group in. “Go away. There’s no room.”

Then, “Aliens are coming.” As that alarm spread, the people in the camps blamed me. “They followed you. You revealed our position. Now we need to find somewhere new.”

Everyone started running up and down the hallways and steps. I remained confused. Who was the alien coming? Humpty-dumpty? He was too big.

“No, the other aliens.”

What? I had to see them, so I waited, lurking by a corner. They entered the hall, angular, tall, and gray, marching two by two.

Seeing them and now knowing more of the threat, I took off, seeking security. Others were still with me. I continued discovering other enclaves of people hiding. Nobody wanted to help anyone else. It dismayed me.

The gray aliens chased us outside where Humpty-dumpty called, “I see you. I’m coming to get you.” We could see him bobbing above the buildings like a giant balloon in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Everyone scattered. There was just me and a red-headed woman now. As we talked about where we could go — she insisted that we couldn’t stay there, but I thought we could find a safe place and start a refugee camp and band together — aircraft flow over.

The alarm went up. Those were alien aircraft. They began shooting people on the ground with red rays that disintegrated them. Everyone scattered anew.

I ended up in a shopping mall, and then a gym. Everywhere I went, the warning was giving that the aliens had entered. Run! Run! People blamed me for being followed.

The woman and I ended up outside. We were running up a lush valley of tall, deep green grass. A stream ran through the valley. Above was the white cement infrastructure of a highway bridge. Others had camped out under the bridge and had fires going.

I was looking ahead, trying to learn where to go. As that happened, like it was taking place on a television screen, and I could see it all, two men ran up and grabbed the woman behind me. I didn’t know. I kept walking. Hand over her mouth, they dragged her away, then leaped onto horses and rode away. That’s when I turned around and realized that she’d been taken.

I was shocked, and I was alone. Going forward to what I thought was safety, a man came out. Half-naked, white, he had a muscular torso and shoulders. His disheveled hair was long and brown.

I said, “They took my friend.” I wanted to go back for her.

He gestured with his hand for me to follow him. I thought for a moment that he was a centaur. Then I realized that he was. As he walked, I followed. I realized that he was going to explain everything and help me.

The dream ended.

 

0

Another Car Dream

I had another car dream last night. The cars in my dreams are usually silver. They’re often sports cars, and frequently Porsches.

Last night’s dream was a little different.

I was in a boxy little car. Silver, it reminded of a Cube or Element, but it was neither of these. It had four wheel drive, flared fenders, and a powerful motor.

I was going down a hill to pick up my in-laws. They were waiting for me, along with their families. These were only living folks, and not the in-laws who’ve passed on.

The gang loaded into my car. Seatbelts were applied. Doors were closed. The car was started and a gear selected. One of my sisters-in-law said, “Thanks for picking us up. I really didn’t want to walk up this hill, but are you sure you’re going to be able to get back up that hill?”

I considered the hill. Covered with green grass, it was slick with rain, with mud visible in many places. Steep, as well, a ravine with a rushing stream cut through the middle. I agreed, it was gonna be a challenge.

But I was amazingly upbeat. With little thought, I threw the little car into a turn and went down the hill, developing a plan as I went. As said, “What are you doing,” I replied, “Trust me.” My plan was to go down lower to where it was flatter so that I could get a running start up the hill. My plan had a problem: it was much wetter and muddier down there.

I was undeterred.

Hitting the bottom of the hill, I threw the car into a wide curve. As it slewed around, I straightened it out, downshifted, and pushed the accelerator. Slipping and sliding with its engine revving against the tach’s red line, the car churned up the hill. Reaching the top, I slammed on the brakes with a grin.

Then the back doors, which were double, opened and I fell out. Landing on my ass, I looked around in surprise. An old friend (deceased) was standing there. He had a manual in his hand. He said, “I think this is what you’re looking for.”

I agreed with another grin. “Thanks.” The manual told me how to close and lock the doors so they wouldn’t fly open, and how to select a special gear to take me forward.

The dream ended.

0

The Spaceship Dream

I dreamed I was in a spaceship or a space capsule. Small, it was tight with equipment. No one else seemed present.

I was excited. I was in space! That I wasn’t weightless or floating surprised me, but I dismissed that with little thought. Wanting to view the earth, space, and moon from this unique vantage, I hunted for a window. I couldn’t find a damn window anywhere. What kind of craziness is this? I wondered. Spaceships need windows.

As I turned in my search, I’d discovered that I could walk further into the spaceship. It seemed bigger than I thought. But when I didn’t find a window and turned to retrace my steps, I found that I couldn’t go back. All I could do is turn and go forward. That bothered and mystified me.

Awakening at that point, I leaped up. I’d fallen asleep in the recliner in the snug. The television was on but nothing was onscreen.

I didn’t recognize that, though. Panicking, I was trying to understand what I was supposed to be doing. Wasn’t I supposed to be doing something? I was sure that was the case. Seeing the television, though, I began understanding that I was home.

Home? That ignited new surprised panic. How did I get home? Where was the spaceship?

At last my mind grasped, that was a dream…

0

Just A Dream Snippet

Just a dream snippet remains from last night’s viewing. It felt like the dreams were on, but like the television running in the background while I was doing something else. Not much seemed noticed.

The one time that I remembering seeing the Dream Vee, I had butter on my arm. It was a twenty-year-old version of me. I laughed about that and was talking with someone else, showing them where I had butter on my forearm.

I know my dream age, because my image was lifted off a photograph that I saw not too long ago. My hair was dark and thick, but cut military short, and my mustache was dark and heavy. My wife and I had gone to a shopping mall. At her encouragement, I bought a pale yellow, short-sleeved shirt, the top that you pull over, with a three-button Henley packet. It became a favorite shirt for a few years.

While I was laughing about the butter and attempting in dream-muddled-confusion to understand how I’d come to have this thick, long streak of butter on my right forearm,  I realized how yellow it was. At that point, I heard, spread yellow light over your body.

That’s all that’s remembered.

0

The Chicken Bone Dream

The chicken bone dream had much more in it.

To begin, naked but dressing, I was concerned with a chicken bone traveling through my body.

My wife was with me. She was preparing to leave for work or somewhere. We lived in this huge, modern white house. Most of the dream took place in garage. The garage was spotless, with a glistening white floor. Multiple high-end cars were parked in it. Most were white but one car was a black BMW five series, a large car. A child was sitting in the car’s trunk, eating a bowl of cereal. The child was about nine and dressed in a blue school uniform.

He wasn’t my child. I told my wife, “You can’t let him stay there. That’s a car trunk.”

She replied, “That’s fine, he does it all the time. They both do.”

When she said that, I saw that there was a blonde boy, the same age, in a green school uniform, eating cereal in the back end of a white car.

I had to leave so I dismissed it. The chicken bone in me was distracting me. First, I was thinking, “There’s something in me. It’s going down through me. What is it?”

Feeling along my body with my finger tips, I focused on my abdomen. I realized that I thought I felt a chicken bone.

As I continued preparing to dress and leave because time was growing short, I struggled to understand how a chicken bone came to be in my and how it was going to come out. I decided that I must’ve been eating a chicken leg, and I’d swallowed the bone. Now it was working through my system.

Believing that, I felt along my body with my fingers. Yes, I could discern what seemed to be the joint end of the bone. It was working down through my body. As it worked down, I kept feeling it. More of the bone was clearly discernible. Soon, it was clearly a chicken leg bone. I wasn’t panicked but I was worried about how this was going to come out of me. For some reason, I thought that it was going to exit via my penis. My skin had become very elastic at that point, so the thought of a chicken bone passing through my pecker was amusing.

Others came, dressed in tuxedos with black ties, or sparkling white evening gowns, asking, “Are you ready yet? Aren’t you dressed? We’re going to be late.”

I told them about the chicken bone coming out. They waved that off. “Don’t worry about that. Come on.”

I grabbed my tux and was putting it on as I went up the stairs in my white house to leave. The dream ended by fading out to Sid Vicious singing his punk version of “My Way”. As I awoke, choruses from “Best Day of My Life” by America Authors popped in.

I awoke feeling great.

0

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Today’s music choice is dream fallout. This song was in the dream stream and got kicked into the conscious stream after I got up. Now it’s stuck in there on a loop, which is driving me nuts, so it’s being shared to spit it out of the stream.

From 1987, here’s U2 with “Sweetest Thing”.

0

The Shoe Dream

So, as many of my dreams have taken me in the past, there I am, back  in the military after being out for several decades. It’s not a surprising dream sanctuary, and makes sense in many practical ways.

Once again, I’m there, in a command center or command post such as the ones that I spent much of my time. This one has windows, though. That rarely happened. We were often in  secure buildings or underground. As with other dreams, I’m trying to put together a uniform, and it’s all messed up, because I’ve been retired from the military for so long. With much joking and laughing, I get it together and get a semblance of an Air Force uniform on. There are others in this situation, so I’m not overly concerned with the bit. We’ve been called up…enough said on that, right? Yeah, my mind’s workings can be pretty transparent.

I’m worried about my shoes, though. They’re on, but they’re not in great shape. Meanwhile, the situation is developing. I’m senior enlisted there, and the experienced command post guy. The commander, a colonel, has arrived. He’s concerned about the sit. I share his concerns. Beyond the windows is a swollen gray ocean active with slow, heavy waves. We’re walking along the command post, looking out the windows, searching for an impending attack from across the water. Lights draw our attention. We watch, and watch, hoping that they’ll resolve into something more than blurry lights in the distance, ready to act if they do.

We begin walking toward the other end of the command post. I’ve been thinking as the commander and I scanned the sea, and I’d developed a sense that something wasn’t right. Maybe we were looking at the problem the wrong way.

Just as I formulate this to myself, I turned to look through another window and see a huge wave. Rising like a movie scene, it’s rushing toward us. As I see it, a young airman shouts a warning about the wave.

I spring into action, giving orders and directions about what to do as people begin running in panic. As they’re panicking and only a few are doing as I say, I take it upon myself to act.

It’s too late. As I realize that the wave is about to hit, I tell everyone to find cover and find cover myself. The wave slams into the building. Coming through windows, the powerful water wrecks the interior.

It’s over in a flash. I survive in good condition because I’d protected myself. My biggest concern is my…shoe.

Yes, I’m upset because my right shoe is coming apart. It’s not shiny and black, as I kept it throughout my mil career, as trained to do, as we all did; it is dull and white. Man, am I exasperated.

But we need to take care of things. It’s clear that we can’t continue operations in the current location. I and two others, a male and female, take off walking for the alternate command post location. We’re walking alongside a parade ground. I’m lamenting about my shoe as I go.

While walking to the alternate location, we start moving faster. The two I’m with cross to the other side of the parade grounds. We engage in an unspoken pseudo-race at fast walking speed. They become distracted with conversation. Seeing that, grinning, I surreptitiously speed ahead. They notice, and start walking faster, almost catching up. The guy starts running, so I do, too. Laughing, we reach the alt at the same time, and wrestle to get through the door first. I win.

Inside the small, old places, we find things that were left behind, like candy, gum, toys, and clothes. I’m amused as I go through some of the stuff and think about how to make it operational as a new operating location.

Holding up a piece of old candy in a weathered wrapper, I say, “I remember leaving this here.”

The dream ends.

2

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑