A Facilitating Dream

The commander, a colonel, was walking in, talking on his cell as he came. I knew he was speaking with his wife. I overheard him: “Seidel? Yes, he’s here. He’s always here. He’s everywhere.”

A blush of pride bloomed in me in the dream. That was toward the end. It’d been another military dream, a chaotic one. Whereas most of my military dreams after my service ended has been about my chosen career field, command and control, or about traveling, this one was about facilitating. I’d spent the last three years of my career facilitating special project teams. This dream took off from there.

People were arriving for the session. I knew them and was prepared for them — or so I thought. Things started going wrong. Like Mom showed up. What was Mom doing there? I saw her but then she wasn’t there, so maybe I’d imagined her.

It threw me off my game. A squadon commander, black and and light colonel, arrived. I was pleased to see him, greeting him by name, showing him in, asking him if he’d like something to drink. Coffee, water, juice, tea? “Tea,” he agreed. Excellent, we have multiple kinds. What would you like? He selected (can’t remember what it was) and I went off to get it.

But I couldn’t immediately find the tea. Interruptions hampered the search. Sisters are arrived. I didn’t know what they were doing there. The phone kept ringing. Other team members were arriving. Someone knocked over one of the white boards. And the cookies weren’t put out.

I was scrambling, racing back to the light colonel to tell him that I’d not forgotten his tea, that it would be right out. He was taking it well, smiling and nodding, relatively unconcerned. I was also trying to be a good host with other arrivals and trying to corner one of my sisters to inquire about why she was there.

Someone suggested we play a game. They found something sort of roundish and suggested volleyball. Cheers met the suggestion. Although I first resisted because I had an agenda, I acquiesced. Be flexible, right? “Okay, why not,” I agreed.

We went out. There were five on one side and one, a female, on the other. They were going to play volleyball but there wasn’t a net. The lumpy thing being used as a volleyball turned into an actual volleyball. I told the one woman that I’d be her teammate. We’d take on the rest. Some volleying was done. I was told to serve. Everyone tensed because they thought I’d have a power serve but I kept missing the ball completely.

I finally served the ball and a volley ensued, then we lost the ball. Someone came up with some misshaped black thing, smaller than a volleyball, to use. I argued against it, demonstrating that I couldn’t even hit it right. Nobody else had yet tried. They all encouraged me to keep trying. I did, and suddenly began hitting it spectacularly well.

Others arrived so we quit playing. I hurried back to facilitate because some were up asking about the talking points posted to a white board. I rushed to explain. That’s when the commander arrived talking on the phone, and the dream ended.

A Sisters-in-law Dream

The sitcom dreams have cycled out. Back to casual dreams, as I categorize them. This night featured a dream with my two sisters-in-law.

First, I’m facilitating a small group of people. I don’t know the group’s objective, but it did involve having to use clever means to bridge a fast-moving creek. A bridge was there but incomplete. I found a stretch of fencing and employed it. When others came, I had to show them what I’d done, laying out the fencing to bridge gaps, hold it up, and yet walk across it. That impressed them.

The older of my two sisters-in-law was there and requested a ride home. She was feeling ill. I wasn’t going that way but then discovered another who was. SIL had a baggie of treats. Some of it looked like white cake with raspberry jelly center layer and a coconut whipped cream top. Looked good! She said that I could have it but it wasn’t what it looked like. I took it and discovered it was hard candy. To which I was, bah, no thanks. She then went to get into a yellow SUV. I raised the rear for her. She put her things in but the woman driver started leaving with the rear still raised. I was incredulous but the woman turned and stopped. A short conversation ensued. Clarification achieved about what was going on, SIL entered the vehicle and it departed.

Act Two found me just completing another facilitating session, at a different location, with another group. I’d procured some treats for them. From where, they asked. We talked about that a bit, with me explaining that there was a candy store in a shopping center out on the highway. They said they’d gone there but didn’t find the treats that I had. I realize that they’d gone to another candy store, and then explained to them that there was a smaller shopping center in the corner of a larger shopping center. I’d gone to the candy store in the smaller shopping center. It helped that I could look out the window and see portions of both places, and put it out to them.

The group, probably two hundred people, arrived and settled in chairs. Although leading it, I was at the back, with my other SIL. I was showing an old movie to the group. My SIL wanted a ride home with me, which I agreed to do. The movie didn’t start as planned. I had to walk up as everyone watched, fix the equipment, return to my seat, and begin the film. Afterward, my SIL and I went to my car, the light blue 1985 Mazda RX-7 that my wife and I had bought new when we’d returned to America. I asked SIL if she minded if I removed the sunroof as it was a nice afternoon. She was okay with that.

The dream ended.

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