Tag: preparing

Her Dreams

She says that she vividly dreams all the time and tells him about two. Both were recurring. In one, she was with her ex-son-in-law. He’s in many of her dreams but in this recurring dream, she and he are in a huge house. Others are there but she doesn’t remember who the others are. The SIL says, “We’re going to bring a lot of children here, so we need to start making beds.” She thinks in response that they’re not ready and that’s going to upset her daughter.

The other recurring dream, experienced three nights in a row, was about being in a huge mansion. She said it cost over a billion dollars to build. It’s sealed off from the outside world. But she thinks, there’s no oxygen. There’s no air. She can’t breathe.

She dreamed that one while she was in the hospital on oxygen, fighting COVID pneumonia.

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A Militant Dream

I was at the bottom of a sloping paved lot. A young friend was walking further above me. Machete in hand and weird grin on his face, I shouted at him to stop. When he didn’t, I felt that I didn’t have a choice but to shoot him. I did, killing him. Oddly, there was no blood and no one saw what I did. I walked away, hugely sad by what had happened. I walked around for a while. It was some sort of quasi-military complex. Others were working but I was in charge, and they left me alone, keeping a respectful distance from me as I walked and brooded.

Watching the skies and listening, I perceived that an attack was eminent. I don’t know who was attacking. They didn’t expect us to be prepared but I had other ideas. Jumping into a sports car, I drove down a hill and slid to a stop. Another person was there. I told him, “Go tell everybody with a car who is a good driver to bring their car own here.”

The first arrived, a young, skinny black guy in a silver Starion. He did a power slide and a little drifting on his arrival. Telling him, “Stay in the car,” I directed him to drive his car into a shed. There, I directed him up a ramp. Machines attached a platform to his car’s underside. It took maybe five seconds. The platform featured engines, weapons, and wings. The kid was agog at the transformation. He drove it out of the shed as others arrived.

I announced, “An attack is coming. They think they’re coming to destroy us, but I’m going to change all your cars into aircraft, and you’re going to meet and stop them.” I then went into an explanation, flying was just like driving. Within minutes, several cars were done and the drivers were learning to control their cars in the air.

End dream

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A Multi-layered Dream

I was young, middle-aged, in my thirties, happy, confident, relaxed. I encountered a diverse dreamscape of buildings, floods, people, and events.

A young boy saving kittens was met several times. He never spoke. Seemed perhaps four. His features and complexion changed. He was never of one color, one ethnicity, but different each time that we met. I worried about him so I would seek him out.

Because a deluge was underway. A swollen black and gray sky loomed above. Flood waters were rising through valleys and ravines. I worried about the kittens and the boy. Gray, black, white kittens. They were newborns, fitting into the child’s hand. At first he had four gray kittens. Then he had four gray and four black. The third time he and I met, he had three each, gray, white, and black.

I’d go find him and learned that he liked to hang out in shallow gullies. I talked to him, questioning what he was going to do, and told him my worries about protecting the kittens. He listened and didn’t speak but pointed. I realized with relief that others were caring for the boy. He wasn’t alone, and the kittens were burrowing into tunnels. I never seen anything like it, but I immediately understood that they would be safe.

Through it all, despite worries, I was relaxed, confident, happy.

Interspersed with checking on the boy and his kittens, I was embedded in a ramshackle, old, cluttered office building, a red-brick form follows function design three stories tall, with lots of windows. Situated on the third floor, I looked over a long, grassy lawn. A young woman out there took directions from people in the building. Waking has robbed me of understanding of her role, but at one point in the dream, I wrote lengthy instructions for her, using a large sheet of cardboard and a black magic marker. My plan was to go out there and post it by her, sticking in the ground so that it was vertical. These were supposedly providing her course corrections based on my observations of all transpiring.

After writing the instructions, I decided not to post them and set them aside. But, surprise, the young woman — white as Caspar, short, with curley dark hair and a warm smile — came up, talking to me, and then said, “Oh, you’re the man who wrote the instructions.” I asked, “How’d you know that? I never posted them?” Looking at them beside me, she said, “I saw them from where I was. They made sense. Thanks for writing them.” I was surprised and delighted that she knew of them and pleased by her comments.

I’d been doing other things, drafting missives and instructions, making phone calls throughout all of this, preparing, because we were going through the evacuation stages. One aspect was I was dealing with multiple issues and was achieving impressive results. By finding and contacting quality assurance in various departments, providing them feedback and suggestions, and sometimes making a complaint, things were being fixed for me.

Others had noticed and finally, a swarthy, slender man approached me. Much younger than me, in his early twenties, he inquired about how I’d fixed something. I told him that I’d lobbied the QA function in that department, and they’d worked with their people to improve things.

Other things went on — like the young woman approaching me and checking on the boy and his kittens — and then it was time for me to leave. As I prepared, the young man returned, pleased and proud, telling me about how he’d used my guidance to fix something, and how, now that he knew to do this, he was going to fix everything.

I educated him that you can’t go to that same QA for other things, explaining, “Every department has a QA. Each must be individually contacted and the problems for that department brought to their attention. They will fix them.”

He thought about this and then nodded understanding, a little down that he had much more to do than he realized. I told him that I had confidence in him that he would do it. He brightened at that, and then I picked up my black bag and set off.

Dream end.

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The Porthole Dream

My late mother-in-law dominated one of my dreams last night.

I was on her ship. To my knowledge, this woman never owned a boat, never mind a large ship.

While I’d been with her, visiting, I was preparing to leave. Outside the ship, I was aware that it was heavily storming. Large waves rocked the ship. Winds howled. Sheets of rain fell from black iron skies.

I needed to go, to catch my flight, to go home. But first, well, there was the matter of my laundry. Done washing, I needed to put them into the dryer. I couldn’t open the dryer, though.

Men came to help. I gathered through conversations that they were my mother-in-law’s brothers. Appreciating the assistance, I managed to get the wet clothing into the dryer. Now I needed to get myself ready. Needed to shower and shave.

I went into the bathroom. A porthole was open. Ocean water came nearly to the porthole, terrifying me. “This should be closed,” I said to myself. I felt that I couldn’t close it without permission.

Leaving the bathroom with a backward look at the porthole, I encountered my mother-in-law in the hallway. “I was thinking, Mike.” (She’d always called Mike, her and her husband, although I went by Michael with my wife and the world.) “There’s no reason for you to go to the airport to catch your flight. You can catch it here.”

Although some part of my brain in the dream protested, I’m sorry, but we’re on a ship, that’s not possible, I said, “Are you sure? Is that possible?”

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“No bother at all. It’ll save you time.” She walked off, as was her habit, as she finished her comment.

“Great,” I answered, then went after her. “There’s a porthole open in my bathroom. I think it needs to be closed. The water is about to come in. We could get flooded.”

“Okay, go ahead and close it,” she replied.

Happily, I returned to the bathroom and closed the porthole. I felt much better about that.

“Your flight is almost here,” one of the brothers told me.

I wasn’t ready. “Okay,” I called back. After rushing through my shower and shaving, I dressed while hurrying out to empty my clothes from the dryer. They needed to be packed. I had my suitcase at hand. I was thinking that the flight was early. I was thinking, how can the aircraft land on ship? Was it going to land on the sea? I was thinking, how can it land in this weather? I was thinking, I want to pack my clothes neatly but I need to get them into the suitcase and get going. I was thinking, there’s so much to do, and I feel so rushed. I was thinking, maybe I shouldn’t go now.

Shirt not properly tucked in, wet hair uncombed, suitcase open, clothes half in it, I declared myself ready to go.

Dream end.

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The Superpower Dream

I recall three dreams from last night. 

The most memorable had me with superpowers. Yes, I became known as Time Man.

It started with a gorgeous day and a house being built. Standard construction techniques were being employed, and the footers, floors, and frame were all completed. Don’t know if I had a role in building it, but I remember looking at the house under construction, and walking around it in interest.

I then became aware that a large family were after me. From what I witnessed and overheard, they had superpowers and apparently had established a mission for themselves to corral and stop others with superpowers. Hence, they were after me.

At this point, I didn’t know that I had superpowers, and I don’t know how they discovered it. But now, suddenly being chased by this family of twenty donning costumes, I took off, time-jumping to safety. Why, how did I do that? I wondered after doing that. What exactly had I done?

I figured out that, while remaining on Earth and in the proper era, I’d both traveled in time to a few minutes into the future, and I’d also used PK to transport myself about a mile from where I was. Both of these impressed me.

Some of the superpower family (SPF, in shorthand) found me. I jumped again, going further in time and distance to buy some time (sorry). Exploring my abilities, I found that I had become aware of two arrows of time running in parallel, and that I was using both, but also using the time void between them. (I don’t know how the hell I figured all that out.)

Several SPF found me again. This time, I used my powers to freeze them in time, something that I’d learned that I could do. With them frozen in time, the SPF parents caught up with me. By now, confident in myself and what was going on, I confronted them and explained my powers, and told them that I didn’t plan to be evil, so they shouldn’t be afraid or try to stop me. A lengthy discussion about evil and intentions ensued. Essentially, they argued, how could they trust me, and I countered, then why shouldn’t I try to stop them? I could use their own argument about them. They said they had a history, and I replied, yes, but we’re talking about intentions, and subsequently, about unintended consequences.

About that time, the SPF members I’d time-froze (don’t know what else to call it without more thought) thawed and began moving, and other SPF folks began arriving. Mom and Dad stopped their children and began explaining that an agreement had been made for me to leave them alone and vice versa. Then I went off to play with time and explore my powers.

The dream ended, leaving me feeling, “Wow,” but also amused while wondering, “What the hell was that all about?”

One of the other dreams had to do with Mom and my family. I was having dinner with them. Dinner was being prepared, mostly by Mom and my sisters in the kitchen. The kitchen adjoined the dining and living room areas, creating one space. It wasn’t large, and circe 1960s furniture filled it. For example, the kitchen table and chairs had curved chrome legs. The table top was marbled gray Formica, and the seat cushions were bright red vinyl.

Now let’s get into the weird stuff. A man and his boys had a mirror setup, but there wasn’t any wall between us. We and they pretended to ignore one another while going through parallel activities of preparing our meal and sitting down to eat.

Mom and my sisters began talking, though, and left, surprising me. We hadn’t eaten, the food wasn’t prepared, and they’d left a mess in the kitchen. Vexed by this turn, I cleaned and organized, discovering chicken parts left in plastic bags in dish water in the sink. Mom briefly came by. I told her what I’d found and asked her what she was thinking, but she left without replying. Exasperated, I continued cleaning, and then prepared the meal. I waited for the others but when they didn’t show, I sat down to eat what I had.

I was sitting opposite the man and his son. They were white, both with dark hair. Taciturn and glum, the man appeared to be in his mid-forties. He was overweight and slovenly in appearance, with a flannel shirt over a white tee-shirt, and he hadn’t shaved. His son seemed to be about ten.

At this point, we were eating but not paying attention to each other, but I couldn’t help but surreptitiously note what was going on and observe. While doing that, I saw his son doing something, but I can’t recall what it was. However, I told the boy a better way to do it.

He and I looked at the father for a reaction. After a few minutes, while putting food on a plate, the man said without looking at the boy or me, “Listen to him, and do what he says. He knows what he’s doing.”

The dream ended.

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