A Dream

Last night’s main feature on the dream stage was a lengthy one, like Boyhood length (two hours forty-five minutes). (So it felt in the dream.) Expressing several layers, I thought I’d touch on highlights.

I was traveling on a jet. I knew that because I was told at the beginning that we were leaving on a jet, but never saw the aircraft. It was big; I had a large suite with several bedrooms on it. That was at the end of a long hallway.

Toward the middle of the dream, a friend (B) visited from Alaska. She and I sat at a window drawing with pencils. When she finished, she handed me a detailed drawing of me. Her skill amazed me. “I drew this for you,” she said. After thanking her, I studied it a bit, then decided it could be improved. I commenced doing that in stages. I showed her and told her what I’d done. She answered, “It’s yours, so do what you want.” She went off to get a drink.

My cat, Rocky, drew my attention. As an explanatory note, Rocky passed away about sixteen years ago. He was the only survivor of a litter found in a hoarding situation when we lived in Germany.

Rocky was approaching a square hole in the carpeted floor. I worried about him, as a red creature had been spotted at that hole, threatening a child earlier in the dream.

Rocky went up to the hole and stopped. The red thing came out, as I’d feared. Rocky retreated. The thing went after him.

I jumped up to go help Rocky, but Rocky swatted the thing off a ledge, which knocked it out of the aircraft. “Smart kitty,” I said. He then went off exploring, and was looking over the edge, out of the aircraft. I told him to be careful.

Then I was busy with other things. One thing I noticed was that the suite door was open. I closed it. When I turned around, I saw Rocky disappear over the ledge. Rushing over, I called him. There was scratching at the door. I hurried over and opened it to Rocky. He strolled in, nonchalant as ever.

The dream continued. I’m leaping forward in it. The others, who were my wife’s family and traveling with us, had returned. Someone ordered a beer from room service. We were talking about what we were going to do that day. I had one of my old Blackberry phones. On a whim, I decided I wanted to call the voice mail from the past. I couldn’t remember the number but just told the phone, call voice mail. A woman started talking. Assuming it was voice mail, I pressed some buttons to stop that. The system asked me if I was certain I wanted to reset it. I pressed escape.

After starting over, I heard the same female voice talking. I put her on my speaker. Then I realized that it was a live call. I wasn’t certain if she was calling from the past or if I’d slipped into the past. She was telling me a conversation with one of our engineers. “We use BlackICE 2.2 to run our security. It’s just a basic installation. He thought we’d still be able to do it but we’d need a key to do it and needed to talk to you.”

BlackICE was a startup that I worked with around 2000. All of what she said aligned with my BlackICE role.

I told her, “No. It can’t be done. That was almost twenty years ago. BlackICE 2.2 would no longer work. It’s no longer a product, and the company has been bought by other companies. I’m afraid that you need to move on.”

The dream continued — it was long, believe me — but those on the highlights for me.

Licorice & Coin Dream

I was taking a class in something somewhere, and hanging out with relative strangers. During lunch break, I sat with some, looking at my schedule and talking with them. As I delved into the schedule, I scrolled down and discovered a hidden section. Using sorting options, I gradually realized that it was the future.

After checking out my future and listening to others, I began telling them their future. “How do you know that?” several asked.

I told them what I’d found and began showing them how to do it themselves. Most struggled with it, though.

It was lunch time and I still hadn’t eaten. A bunch of us went walking to find food. It seemed like we walked through an outdoor mall. Food options were there but they were expensive and time-consuming, and none appealed to me. I complained, nostalgically remembering when I’d take college classes in the military and run into the exchange to buy a two-dollar cheeseburger.

We came to a dusty little shop. I entered with a few others. Still looking for something to eat, I found a bag of licorice for two dollars. Not nutritious, but I could share it with others, was cheap, and would stave off my immediate hunger.

As I was buying, I realized that taxes would make it $2.01. Looking for a penny and asking others if they had a penny so I could avoid getting ninety-nine cents in change, I found a huge gold coin on the floor. I thought at first it could be a shiny new penny, but it was two big, and it was gold, not copper. Picking it up, I examined it. Besides being gold, it had copper segment in it. About the size of a silver dollar, a geometric design surrounded the best of a man, and an unrecognized language.

I concluded that it was token, not a coin. Holding it up to the shopkeeper, I asked with some cheek, “Can I use this?” In good humor, he replied, “I’ll take it off your hands.” Something about how he said it made me think it was worth more than I was assigning it. I asked him what it was, but he never answered. My transaction was finished. I opened the bag of licorice and offered some to others.

The dream ended.

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Just from the line, “Don’t look back in anger, I heard you say, at least no today,” I began streaming Oasis and “Don’t Look Back in Anger” (1996). I like the song but some of the rhymes don’t make sense. It’s like several different stories and perspectives are being shared, and none are finished.

But to not look back in anger is my takeaway for today.

Again

Remembering the past doesn’t do much good.

That’s what they tell me. The past is dead. Water under the bridge.

But we still spend a lot of time there, arguing about what happened in that particular moment (ah yes, I remember it well), trying to pick out the jigsaw pieces of memory that shows how we got here. (You’d think that weird shape would be easy to find, but the pieces are harder to place than you would have believed.)

Remembering the past can be entertaining. Like, remember how your football team used to win? Remember how skinny and good-looking you used to be? Thank god for photos, or no one would ever believe it, right?

Then sometimes, you pause, glancing up to see yourself coming in through a door in the future, then hold your breath as you look back to see who you were and squint at your self-image to know who you now are.

Then the present — which was the future and has now become the past — crowds in with needs about what you were going or where you were doing — oh, look how mixed up I am! — and then rights your direction until memory calls you away again.

A Chaotic Collage Dream

It was messed up from go, a frenzied and frantic circus. It took me a while to work into any semblance of coherent structured memory, and I could be wrong. Then, again, this is what I took from it, so…

The dream included Mom, wife, peeing, being in the military (yeah, again), cleaning, and, well, chaos.

Chaos was the overall theme. In the beginning, I needed to use the restroom. After I did, Mom came in to clean after me while I changed into my Air Force uniform and hurried off to work as my wife kissed me good-bye.

I was in command and control once again. Once again, I faced a disorganized situation. Aircraft were inbound. Some carried VIPs, but an inspection team was also due, and we were not ready. I scrambled to get us ready, working up checklists and procedures, trying to train other people, and setting up flight-following boards. This was being done against radios blaring with communications with commanders and aircraft, and ringing telephones.

Then I had to use the restroom again. Rushing over there, I found the facilities inadequate, but my bowels didn’t care. Lowering myself to the tiny seat on the tiny bowl, I did my business. When I finished, I discovered I’d pissed on the floor.

As I discovered that, old women who were present chided me, “Oh, your mother isn’t going to be happy about that.” Well, no, d’uh? Who would be? I rushed to clean it up using white towels, but there seemed too much of it for the towel, and it was taking up too much time.

Mom arrived, as the women predicted (and noted). While chastising me for the mess, Mom shooed me away (“Go to work, I’ll clean it up.”) She dropped to her knees to clean the floor as I donned my uniform again and raced away.

My wife intercepted me to tell me that there was a problem. As she did that, my co-workers called out to inform me that the aircraft were arriving. Then the commander called me and said, “There’s a change of plans.” Oy, vey,

The dream ended.

Yeah, I see how it all speaks to my current frenzy of thought and direction.

Yet Another, Yes, Military Dream

This one was a bit different. In the military again, with a friend, and our wives, and others, in a hotel. He’d once worked for me, but eventually passed me in promotions while I chose to retire. Now, here he was a CMSgt, E9, which is the senior enlisted rank and pay grade in the Air Force, urging me to come with him to party and do things.

A special guest was due, the highest enlisted position in the Air Force, a position and rank called the Chief Master Sergeant of the Air Force. There is only one at a time. My buddy was eager for me to meet him and have drinks with him.

I went along at first, but then decided, no. I’m done. Not interested. I’m passing.

He came by in his mess dress with medals and ribbons, and black tie to collect me. I was in jeans and a tee shirt. He said, “You’re not ready.” His face fell when I told him that I wasn’t going. He tried cajoling me to change my mind. I held firm.

“That’s not me,” I said.

He shook his head and said, “Man, I’ve so disappointed in you.”

I told him, “You’ll get over it.”

Then he went on, and I turned away to do other things.

The dream ended.

Just in Passing

That time is gone

the energy spent

the road left behind

resentments left unsaid

 

All that remains

is peering ahead

crossing new bridges

dodging monsters in your head

 

Think about yesterday

dream about tomorrow

Go on through life

deal with the frustration and sorrow

 

Then get up and out

get gone and back

live one more day

and do it again

 

 

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