Tag: Dream

Monday’s Theme Music

A crazy dream finished my night. I’d been driving in a borrowed vehicle. It was in good shape, nothing special. Rain was falling. Traffic was dense. I was going a long distance.

We entered a wide tunnel lit with diffused dull yellow lights. More lanes were available. Veering into one, I accelerated, and caught a glimpse of a Chevy pick-up behind me. He’d apparently wanted into the space I’d taken. Now, filled with rage, he was coming up on my bumper.

Still in the tunnel, the road curved. We were going up a hill. I floored the accelerator pedal, keeping it down as engine, road noise, and speed built. Terrified by the speed, and barely in control, I was pulling away from him, and everyone else, when I rounded a corner and almost hit a van crashed on its side. There wasn’t time to stop but I managed to swerve around it. As I thought about stopping for the van and warning the other traffic, I discovered that boulders and rocks were strewn across the tunnel road past teh van. I drove around them, trying to grasp what was happening, and left the tunnel.

Rain was pouring. The day was fading. I reached my destination and pulled in, weary to the bone. It was Monday. I knew I needed to be somewhere else by Tuesday. More travel was ahead. I was with my father’s wife, and her family. Talking to others, she was planning a get-together, and I was there for it. But in flashbacks, I remembered that I’d left some things at my previous location that I needed. I grew conflicted over going back to get them – it had been such a long distance, and an exhausting drive – staying for the event being planned, or foregoing continuing on to my next location. Regarding the last point, I was attempting to understand, where was I going, and was there a need for me to go?

I awoke with this part of the song, “The World I Know,” by Collective Soul, playing in my mind:

So I walk up on high
And I step to the edge
To see my world below.
And I laugh at myself
While the tears roll down.
‘Cause it’s the world I know.
It’s the world I know.

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The Trust Dream

Lately, my dreams have had their own unique brand. Except for one – where I was the General of Level Forty-three – the dreams were of me watching television. I would be in a chair, in a small room, facing a small television, watching shows. Most remarkable about the dreams were that the quantity, eleven in the last two weeks, and the surreal surprise when I awoke; it always felt like I’d never been asleep.

As for being General of Level Forty-three, only jumbled images and sounds are recalled, a surprising twist to someone like me, who often sharply remembers dream, or convinces myself that I do.

Last night’s dream broke the pattern. I dreamed I was in a room, part of a new home. Plants in pots and planters were nearby. The carpet was as green as Ireland in all those travel posters. Something else was in the room. I didn’t know what, and was trying to see.

Approaching the greenery, I tried peering past them. Movement before me caused me to stop. A snake slithered out from under the plots. I know little about snakes, but I thought it was a rattle snake.

I moved back from it. Simultaneous to this, a large dark gray rat emerged from my left. I attempted to split attention between the snake and the rat. Both worried me, but the snake worried me more.

The rat scurried in past the planters. The snake followed. As they did, a man appeared. Topless, had baggy pants and blue skin. He wore something like a turban. His hair was short and black. A thick mustache hid his mouth. He carried a scimitar.

His appearance shocked me. I demanded to know who he was, and what he was doing. With a look over his shoulder toward me, he raised his scimitar and pointed it in the direction the rat and snake had taken.

Another man, dressed like the first, appeared with a boisterous laugh. “Don’t worry, he’s here to protect you and watch over you.”

Confusion swamped me. Despite his reassurances, I didn’t understand why I needed protection, and why these people had blue skin. But before I could engage him, he whisked off to the right.

I still worried about the snake and rat. Thinking of them, I approached the green plants and parted them. Beyond were shiny, cherry-red objects. I thought they were large metallic balloons.

My perspective shifted. Flying over them, I looked down, and realized they were all small bright red cars. Parked in perfect rows, they were all shiny. I thought them new.

My wife arrived. I joined her. We were inside the interior of an old car, something with the spaciousness and finish of an American sedan from the nineteen fifties. There were seats, but no glass, steering wheel, or instrument panel.

My wife was seating on the plain bench seat. Trying to explain to her about everything I saw and worried about, I sat beside her, to her left, where the driver would sit.

She put her head on my shoulder. Her eyes were closed and her mouth carried a half-smile. “I’m not worried,” she said. “I trust you.”

The blue man with the scimitar re-appeared. Although he didn’t speak, he mimed that he’d taken care of the snake. His expression comforted me. He left us sitting in the car, and I thought, I have no reason to worry.

3

The H.S. Football Dream

I dreamed I was a teenager. It was bright and sunny outside, and I was inside a well-lit building. I learned that my high school football team was short of players. Coach Thomas came to me and asked if I’d play. I’d quit the team the year before, after an accident.

Pleased, I quickly agreed. He gave me some instructions. A game was starting soon. I needed to get there fast. “Don’t let me down,” he said, in a joking but serious style.

I raced to prepare. People were giving me things. It took longer than expected to get ready. A player – a real-life buddy from high school – came in. “Coach Thomas sent me in to see what’s going on. You need to get out there.”

I looked out a window. From there, I could see and hear things happening. Part of that was Coach Thomas talking to the ref, who was warning Thomas, “You need to field a team.” Coach Thomas was irritated and impatient as he asked for more time, insisting, “He’s coming, he’s coming. I need him.”

“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying,” I told the player. He left.

I don’t know what I needed to get. It seemed like that’s an extension of confusion I felt in the dream. Finally, I was out there, with the team, and in the line-up, nervous and uncertain. I had a piece of paper with instructions in my hand. The ref made me give that up. A player beside me, Daryl, told me he’d help me know what to do. A whistle blew as I jumped offsides. I wasn’t pleased with how it was going. I lined up again in a different position. The game commenced without any significant highlights, except players would suggest things to me. I’d do those things, and my confidence grew.

That’s how the dream entailed. I took three lessons from it.

  1. Don’t sweat the mistakes. You’re going to make them but you can overcome them.
  2. You have more to learn.
  3. Others will help.

A very positive dream to remember.

1

Shopping

I’d just been thinking, if a sales person asked me if I needed assistance, I would answer, “Yes, I’m taking up cross-dressing. Do you have suggestions on what I should wear?”

Running into another interrupted my innertainment. In the Eileen racks at Kohl’s in the women’s department, we were intent on the garments being offered, ironic, as we’re both sixty something white men. Yet, bang went our heads.

We drew back, rubbing the afflicted areas and gazing at one another. “Oh,” I said. “Fancy running into you here.”

Shrugging, smiling, and still rubbing his head, the bespectacled bearded fellow replied, “Yes, you never know what’ll happen in a dream.”

Then he went on.

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Mustard Dream

Now what was that about? If you have imagination and are familiar with the tune, envision Carly Simon singing, “You’re so vain.” But instead of the words, “I had a dream there were clouds in my coffee,” sing, “I had a dream there was mustard on the floor, mustard on the floor.”

Unfortunately, I put the mustard there, which mortified me.

It wasn’t deliberate. It seemed odd to me there was mustard present. The gathering, at an opulent palace, was for the elite and powerful. We were being recognized and honored, but were also there to learn more. I was flattered and humbled to be invited. Milling about beforehand, a large spread of food and wine was set up. Part of it was – *ahem* – a sandwich buffet. Yes, the elite and powerful are fond of sandwiches, I suppose.

I made myself a sandwich. As I did, a dropped a dollop of yellow mustard on the polished, marble floor. I was searching for something to clean the spill when we were directed to take our seats. I did so with the other hundreds of guests. From where I sat, I could see my spill, which sickened me. The spill seemed larger than I thought. Fortunately, no one else knew about it; that did nothing to assuage my guilt and secret embarrassment.

Then, though, the host staff were going to entertain us with a song and dance number. The staff were politicians, professors and teachers, scientists, artists, and celebrities. All were dressed in formal business attire. Everyone eagerly awaited this entertainment. When the performers lined up, I saw they were going to be on my mustard spill. Horrified, I realized, several mustard spills were there. I couldn’t be responsible for all of them, I was sure. I counted four large mustard spills on the glistening marble floor.

Private humiliation growing, I watched the dance number begin. The dancers were slipping on the mustard. Worse, it was frothing up, becoming an overwhelming mustard meringue. The dance number had to be stopped. I was shocked, yet, I knew I had a small part of the responsibility. Other forces were at work.

With the song and dance over, I was free to wander. I did, taking in the spacious grounds. Many rooms opened onto cool, shaded fountain gardens. I spoke to a few people, pleasantries, really, but wandered on my own, unfettered and free.

As dreams go, it was peculiar. Overall, I’d rate the mustard dream just a little higher on the dream scale over the previous night’s dream peeing dream.

But that’s another dream to tell.

2

Lost Identity Dream

Well, that dream was something, starting with the carnival, and finishing with a “Wizard of Oz” ending.

To enlarge, I was at a carnival, and it was day. Several women were present, but nobody I knew. I was working in a roughshod office; I don’t know my job, position or task. Three women – maybe they’re my muses – were distracting me, and then making enticing offers about what would happen if I go with them. One, a tall brunette, was dressed in a sky blue dress, and danced as she moved toward the exit.

I was interested, and more than willing to follow. But, I discovered I was missing items. First, I was missing my car keys. Then, I was missing my green Tilly hat, and finally, I was missing my wallet with my identification and credit cards.

That last shocked me. As the women said good-bye and left, I started a furious, intense search of the carnival grounds. I knew it was a carnival, but it was little more than a few tents and booths set up over sloping, grassy ground. Others were present; one man told me to go to another section. There, I would find a little woman. I should report my loss to her.

I did so, and she provided me with a gold credit card to use until I recovered. It was in a clear plastic sleeve with money and other items to help me. I thanked her, but I wasn’t satisfied. I wanted my wallet, keys, and hat. I wanted my identity, damn it. Yet, I was aware, the clock was running; if I didn’t soon find my lost credit cards and identity, someone else could use them and rip me off. I became concerned about how to explain it to my wife.

I kept searching, and stumbled across my Tilly hat on a patch of grass. Relieved, I picked it up. Underneath it were my wallet and keys. I was overjoyed by the finds. Locating a computer, I checked my accounts, and confirmed that nothing had been charged. Apparently, I decided, I’d just misplaced it all. I was relieved.

Then, though, I acknowledged I had this new, unused credit card in its plastic sleeve, along with the money I was given to assuage my troubles. I tried giving them back, but that option was rejected. I could keep it, I thought, to have something private available for emergencies, but I couldn’t reconcile to myself why I would need something private.

It was still day, as though the sun hadn’t moved. The dream ended with me putting on my Tilly hat and walking away, keys, and wallet in hand, undecided about what to do, but realizing that I’d had all my identity all along.

I’d been worried about nothing.

1

Dual Storms Dream

Howling winds hurled gray sheets of rain across the landscape. Thinking of the dream, I remember endless, gloomy gray. No lights were ever seen. The wind shrieked and howled. There were waves and waterspouts, and there was rain.

We’d been striving to prepare for the heavy, increasing storms, but their cycles sped up, and the storms were more sudden and violent. Many people and places were surprised by the storms’ viciousness and frequency. Others tried taking them in, because, what else could they do?

But a strange disease began sweeping the settlements. Virulent, contagious and deadly, symptoms appeared with little warning. The population quivered with anxiety. Civil cooperation vanished. An era of selfish fighting for survival erupted.

I came into the dream seeing others and racing from them, ensuring I avoided others because I didn’t want to die from the disease. I’d already lost friends and family. My desperation to avoid others drove me to leap off cliffs into crashing waves. Constantly on guard, continually traveling, hoarding food, I felt exhausted.

Then, during a relatively calmer, quiet period, one man called across to me. He was a hundred yards away. I didn’t want him to get closer. I believe he said, “They have a cure.”

Although dubious, I was interested. I didn’t know who they were. The storms lessened. During a period of trudging between buildings in search of food, I saw posters. The posters claimed there was a cure, and gave directions.

I was leery of a trap but made my way in a general manner toward the location of the cure. I saw others. We kept our distance from one another but called across, sharing information, trying to address, who can vet this, and how can it be vetted? More people closed in on the center where they supposedly had a cure. Suspicions kept me back.

The storms finally abated more. Weak sunshine washed the wet land. More people were encouraged to go for the cure.

And I, tired of solitary fight to survive, joined them.

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Two Dreams

Both of these dreams intrigued me, but for different reasons.

In the first, I was visiting a place cohabited by many places. I knew this. I was in the kitchen, a square and white, cluttered, noisy room, but I was basically passing through while I awaited others. In there, I noticed this red plastic stuff. Even in the dream, I said, “I don’t know what this stuff is.” I didn’t; nor did I know their uses. Key to me then was that it was filthy, absolutely coated with slime and grease, and I was appalled.

“My god,” I said in the dream, “don’t any of you ever clean?”

A woman who lived there entered the kitchen at that point and answered, “They never clean.” She was busy making something and kept up a commentary about how dirty things were. Oddly, it was actually only the red pieces that were filthy. There seemed to be three of them.

“Let’s clean these off,” I suggested. Moving to the sink as she did, I began cleaning one while she prepared her meal. “Run some hot water over this,” I requested. She did as I used a scrub brush. The coat of grease and slime was being easily removed.

The others I’d been waiting for were now ready to leave, and called me. I told them to hold on so I could clean further.

After thinking about this today, I decided that this was in line with my recent line of dreams about lost identity. The aspect of my power being dirty and never cleaned followed the sense that I’d lost my way. Now I’ve cleaned it off. That’s exciting as hell.

The second dream, well, bordered on the unusual. It was about family.

I was driving my wife and mother-in-law to a store. We were in an older Blazer or Yukon, I’m not certain of which. We arrived at a cluttered and busy five and dime. As we entered, I thought I saw my wife’s sister and her husband walking away. This is where it became interesting. After awakening and thinking about that scene, I realized that the store was located by my mother’s house, and my sister-in-law and her husband were walking to mom’s house.

Meanwhile, in the dream, I wanted to confirm it was them. Without telling my wife and mother-in-law, I raced through the store to go back out. It was busy, though, and difficult to get through. When I finally reached an exit, I discovered that I’d taken the wrong exit. Instead of going outside, I was exiting into the mall.

Realizing my error, I hurried back through the store and found the right exit. Jumping into my vehicle, I drove down the road, but they were gone. I wasn’t surprised, because I believed they were taking a shortcut home, and had turned off onto one of the side streets.

Of course, the dream interested me for several reasons. One was the juxtaposition of family members and locations. The second was that my sister-in-law can’t, or won’t walk as seen in the dream, because of health issues.

These seemed like a cautionary dream for me not to confuse relationships and situations regarding my extended family.

Do you have any dreams to share? Cheers

 

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Dream Mountain

It was, at once, the most innocuous and the most affecting dream I’ve recently had.

I dreamed it was a cool predawn day. I was climbing a mountain. I don’t know what mountain. I went alone.  Wearing the hiking boots and shorts that I often wore back in the early nineteen nineties, I mostly walked, but sometimes I had to crawl, or pull myself up. Sparse, large pine trees were sometimes encountered, and the wind sometimes blew, but it was silent.

The sun was rising. I grew hot and sweaty as I climbed, sometimes pausing to rest and look around. I don’t know why I climbed, but I reached the peak at sunrise, and stood, looking around. The wind blew more sharply. The rising sun illuminated some storm clouds to the east, and was warm on my face, while I saw the final stars of night to the west. Now what, I wondered.

When I awoke, I felt like I’d been crying. It wasn’t relief, pain, happiness or sorrow. The tears felt more like…tension.

Like I’d been expecting something else, and still waited.

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A Dream of Reassurance

The dream leaped into chaos. ‘They’ were trying to become organized.

First, we were working in packed offices. All were dressed in dark blue utility uniforms and black jump boots. Men and women were present, but no children, and no elderly. Thirty people were using office space planned for ten people. I was upper middle-management, which afforded me more freedom and space. While the majority worked at two rows of tables, side by side by side, elbows to assholes, my space was in the back. But  the filing cabinets, telephones, and coffee fax machines were at the front. I was required to go forward to get what I needed, and then go back via a narrow row. The two people in charge would often be in that narrow row, talking, planning and consulting, forcing me to wait and fume with impatience.

So I began thinking ahead about other things that I could do. I knew, in the dream, we would be leaving soon. We would not be able to take much. There was something confusing in the dream about carefully cutting our pockets from our shirts to make quasi-gloves to protect our hands, and wearing strange netting as leggings to protect our legs.

The order came to pack up. Confusion and noise levels increased as we, and thousands of others, left our offices and crowded into a marshaling area. I followed all the instructions. Inspectors went through to see how everyone was doing. My activities impressed them, which amused me.

But horror struck me after a while. I realized that I’d done as instructed, and had packed my laptop into my luggage. My God, what a mistake, I thought. I was distraught, believing, people handling the bags will rip me off. I’d never see that computer again, and all my work on it would be lost.

At that point, I began stirring from my sleep, and the dream. As I did, a voice said, “Don’t worry. You’re not going to lose anything. You still have everything you need.”

Just before I left the dream, I was given my wheeled black travel bag. I opened it, and there was my laptop. I awoke, pleased and relieved.

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