The Dream Collection

First, I dreamed that my ankle was completely healed. Such a real dream that when I awoke, I asked myself, did I dream that? Checking the ankle, I confirmed, nope, not healed. Yet.

Next dream had me dealing with space. A father was in space, apparently as an astronaut. It wasn’t clear if he was a private citizen, military, government effort, etc., but the news was full of his attempt. Then, boom, we were all looking up at a starry explosion on the edge of Earth’s atmosphere. Then the newspaper, electronic, and digital media is full of his disaster and death.

I wasn’t involved in any of this, just a spectator. Talking about the matter in a fractured dream process under a blue sky, my friends and I went off to get lunch. But while this progressed, I put forward the man’s daughter, a four-year-old, had been with him, and he was launching her separately back to Earth. I kept insisting that she was out there, coming back. All others were doubtful. We hunted down a tracking monitor. As we watched it, another object was being traced across the sky. There was a target arc and vector it was supposed to be following. As it veered off that, reports of a crash came in. Everyone agreed it was her and that her vehicle crashed and she was deceased. But I remained optimistic that she’d come down, and that what we’d seen was just a ruse to throw everyone off. Certainty remained in me that she’d made it back. Then I stated my belief that her father had also made it back, using the distraction of his spectacular destruction as a diversion.

That’s where the dream ended. Who this man and his daughter were supposed to be and why we cared is a complete unknown.

The night’s final dream found me with a power to make toys come to life. I could also make them grow larger. Once I learned of my ability, I tested it on a yellow toy dump truck and a green army tank. Finding my wife sitting on top of a tiny green hill, I demonstrated my new skills to her as my black and white cat, Tucker, watched.

In true dream strangeness, I then went to a cafeteria to find something to eat. Although the dining room was full, they were preparing to close. I got in line. Only a young couple were ahead of me. Cloying and loving, they were annoying and silly as they flirted and teased one another over their food selections. Seeing me waiting behind me, they apologized and offered to let me go ahead. I declined and they finished a few minutes later. Stepping up, I found that only pasta with a brown meat sauce and hot dogs were available. I piled some pasta on the plate and then loaded up two hotdogs. Eating one of the dogs, I thought, wow, that really tastes good. I was pleased with having it to eat and scarf the rest down.

My wife rushed in, interrupting my meal to warn me that something was happening to one of my toys. Her explanation was inchoherent so I just ran to where she indicated. As she said, my largest toy, a stuffed bull which was now a dozen yards tall, had fallen into a deep water. I ran over, trying to think instructions for getting out to the bull. But I was still assimilating the situation and didn’t have a clear idea yet.

The bull was running in a circle under the water. I thought he would drown. Then I saw that my black and white cat, Tucker, was riding the bull. As I gaped, I realized that Tucker was guiding the bull. Encouraged by that, I thought instructions to Tucker to help him, telling him to turn toward the shallows. Apparently receiving the guidance and applying it, Tucker guided the racing bull left and left again, and up and out of the water.

Dream end

The Table Dream

A scene bursts into my consciousness. Noisy and busy, I’m outdoors. People doing stuff surround me. I don’t know what they’re doing.

I’m presented with a location stocked with materials. “There are yours. Go to work.” Doing what? I wonder but respond with positive energy, “Okay.”

There’s a hammer, nails, wood, measuring tape, etc., essentially common hand tools associated with carpentry. As people bustle around me in a sunny area (I don’t see much past my immediate work space), I ponder what I’m supposed to do. Build something. Well, what?

A picnic table is in front of me. I presume that I’m supposed to use it as work table. After taking stock of the wood – it’s all sanded, finished wood (I don’t know what kind) – I start working, just following instinct. I’m enjoying it. I’m surprised to discover that I’m wearing a tool belt (which makes me laugh; me, in a tool belt?).

My construction progresses. People come by and compliment me. I’m pleased. Then, I realize, OMG, I’m building the picnic table. Wasn’t there a picnic table there before? I’m unsure. I thought there was, but now, I’m building one, and I don’t see another. Did someone take the original one? I didn’t notice that.

Being puzzled slows me down, makes me pause and reconsider what I’m doing for a bit. I look around for clues, but everyone else is busy. No one is showing me interest. Alright, just continue, what the hell, right?

So I do. I get deeper into the work. It progresses quickly. I have more wood than I realized, and work faster, more confidently. As I near completion, I realize, why I’ve built a room.

Astonishment striking me, I walk around to consider my work. Then I discover I haven’t built just a room, but a small house. How the hell did I do that? When did I do that?

As I contemplate the results, a man comes by. “Good job,” he tells me. “Keep going. Finish it.”

Keep going? Finish it? I have no idea what I’m doing.

After processing that, I notice missing details. I have floors but no ceilings. It’s incomplete. I decide to go back to work, thinking, what the hell, just follow the flow and see what turns out.

The dream ends.

Ray Said

I take Ray’s statement to heart, but sometimes where my intuition is taking me scares the crap out of me. I feel like I’m hanging waaayyy out on a thin branch, and the noise I hear sounds like wood splintering.

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