Tag: seven

Another Driving Dream

In this dream, I’d driven to a pre-arranged place where I met up with friends.

I was younger, in my twenties, I think, and the others’ age was in that same realm. While I knew everyone in the dream and considered them a friend, only one was a real life friend. This was my sister-in-law, B, who I’ve known since I was in tenth grade in high school.

We were meeting as a group to decide where to go. A brief discussion led to someone suggesting, “Let’s go to southern California.”

“Yes, let’s go to San Diego,” another said.

Further discussion changed our destination to La Jolla.

Pushback rose. “La Jolla? It’s nice but there’s nothing there.”

“There’s the ocean,” others answered. La Hoya was confirmed as where we were going.

I’d been to La Jolla a few times. Once on vacation with my wife, and three other times when my employer, US Surgical Corporation, sent me for trade shows. I like the small and picturesque place. Going there pleased me.

I asked, “Are we all driving?” Because we’d all driven cars there. It seemed to me that one reason we’d met was to share cars, letting us share driving, too, and cutting cost, not just in money, but in what our driving did to the environment. My car was a large black BMW hybrid sedan.

Nobody seemed to hear my question. All seemed busy just gabbing. I called, “Does anyone want to go with me?” Again, there wasn’t any response.

I went to my car to prepare to leave. Part of that was trying to attach an fabric doughnut pillow to my car’s rear. Even in the dream, I wasn’t sure why I was doing this, but, paradoxically, it was important to me in the dream.

The doughnut was attached. Onlookers were impressed, and thought my solution clever. Worries were rising for me that the doughnut would be dragged along the roads and ruined. So I worked on it more, becoming satisfied at least.

Returning to my group, I asked once again, “Does anyone want to ride with me?”

Damian, a young man, said, “I will, if you’re offering.”

“Great,” I replied. “I’m over there.”

I was walking, talking, and pointing as this went on. Damian was on his back. I noticed several others in the group were on their backs, awake and talking, but looking up. Possessions and cluttered surrounded them.

Eager to get on the road, I went to my car, slid into the driver’s seat, and waited for Damian to appear. Impatience growing, I finally got out and went looking for him.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said after I found him. “I’m going to drive myself.”

Exasperated, I called out, “Does anyone else want to ride with me?”

“I will,” my sister-in-law answered. “Where you parked?”

After showing her, I headed back to my car to wait. I was pleased she was going to ride with me because I enjoy her company.

That’s where the dream ended.

My first thought was that the BMW isn’t a cheap ride. But does that signify anything? No, The Neurons replied, except is has value.

Most of my focus went to the frustration of trying to get the seven of us moving. Why seven, I wondered, and why my sis-in-law.

My SIL is someone who I respect. Things weren’t going well for her after high school graduation, but she changed directions and reinvented herself. I admire the willpower and determination she asserted in those years. She’s a confident and charismatic person.

As for seven, I undersand it’s supposed to be one of those spiritual, powerful numbers. Doing some research on the net, I saw that it can mean you’re on the right path.

From all this, I created an explanation that I’m on the right path for what I want to achieve, but I’m exasperated by my slow progress, and that it’s messier than I like. But if I focus, as SIL did, I can make it.

Either that, or The Neurons are playing mind games with me again.

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A Dad Dream

I was at some wildly busy location, flitting between meeting people, attending parties, eating foods — especially desserts — and working on some new business.

I’d arrived there via a large, black and shiny car provided by my father. The car was luxurious, expensive, and impressive. After hunting for a parking space, I double-parked on the street because I was late. Promising myself to come back soon to move the car because I might be blocking another in, I rushed into the complex. Piles of food were on tables, and I was urged to eat. I did eat some finger food, and a small bit of dessert, just to be nice, I told them, all of us laughing. The food was fantastic, so I had a little more and then went on to meet with others.

I encountered Dad. He was involved in some new business venture. To support his business plan, he’d developed a table of projected aggregate growth and had me look it over. I did, then went to meet with his potential backers.

The backers’ side, people who were going to fund Dad’s business, included my mentor. The mentor — never actually seen in the dream but heard from via others — had worked up numbers for Dad’s new business, too. The numbers between the two camps were grossly different. The two sides used me as an intermediary to bridge the differences. I mostly dealt with Dad, telling him again and again that my mentor thought Dad’s numbers were overly optimistic. We argued the venture’s fine points. I wanted to see his business plan but piqued, he refused to show me. He wouldn’t even tell me what the business was about, annoying me.

I went back to the mentor and spoke to an assistant, explaining Dad’s logic, defending it, really, and then asked to see their plans and projections. They wouldn’t let me have them and sent me back to Dad.

I returned to my car to move it, but there still wasn’t anywhere else to put it. I needed to leave it there, which worried me, but another person, a stranger to me, assured me it was fine and not to worry about it. I put the car out of mind.

I went back to Dad. He and my mentor were going to meet later. Dad told me to check into my room, clean up and rest so that I could join them later.

I went outside to a huge round bricked plaza. Great crowds of people prowled and socialized there because some convention was going on. Finding the front desk, I was given my room key. It was round, with concentric wheels of numbers on it. Each wheel of numbers told me where I was to go to find my room, starting with the outer wheel. The numbers were all in gold but used different fonts. As I looked at the wheel, a smiling man sitting in a chair, holding a drink, legs crossed, told me that the outer wheel’s numbers referred to the stairs to use. He then explained in an aside to a woman sitting beside him that the keys often confused newcomers.

But I knew how to use the key and told him. The outer gold letters were 4-2. I went off and found the stairs labeled 4-2. Before I went up to my room, though, Dad came and gave me his business plan to look over. Sitting down, I discovered that he’d hugely scaled it down from what he’d told me. It seemed like a completely different idea from what he’d explained, too. This had to do with some kind of ice cream confectionary shop that served other food with the ice cream. They were going to start with twenty shops in seven locations.

The changes dismayed me. I warned him that competition already existed doing what he proposed, and that his plan wasn’t as unique or revolutionary as he seemed to think. He was unfazed because the mentor had told him it was a good idea, and they were going to proceed. I was summoned to go eat, so I left it at that and went to find my table.

Dream end.

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The Dark Dream

Dreamed I was walking home alone, in my present neighborhood. Premature darkness dropped as the wind hissed and moaned, thrashing tree branches. I thought it might rain. Turning up the street, I came to my house. One of those POD storage units was by the tall wooden fence in the side yard, smothered in shadows. I did a doubletake when I saw it, then remembered, oh, yes, I’m getting rid of all those things.

I was inside the house. It was dark, without electricity. We were mixing fruit juices. I was contemplating lemon, lime, orange, with cherry and grape. I said, “Those flavors won’t mix.” I knew someone else was there, but I couldn’t see nor hear them. I collected more flavors but didn’t mix them. Then I said, “I must mix them, and then drink them. If I don’t, I’ll never escape.”

But I worried. If I escaped the house, I still needed to face the vampires outside. Surely drinking the mixed juices and escaping had to be the first priority, though.

One candle lit the space. I was in the dining room. A man came to me with a large, flat red box. He wore a black coat with a white shirt. His face was unseen. He presented the red box to me. I didn’t want to take it. “How much?” I finally asked.

Seven hundred, I knew he said without hearing him speak.

I repeated, “Seven hundred?” I shook my head. “That’s not enough. A thousand.”

A thousand was agreed.

I walked outside. Rain was falling but I was protected. I walked down the sidewalk and stopped. Lightning lit the night. The bolts held, frozen in place in the sky. The rain hung, unfalling, lit by the lightning. I could see miles and miles ahead across the dark landscape.

Dream end

5

A Seven Dream

Seven factored in last night’s featured dream.

My wife and I were at the cost. Staying in a hut on stilts, we were on a low porch where active waves crashed, sprayed, and tumbled around us. Others were in like huts. We were enjoying ourselves.

Seven green WWII era Army Jeeps roared off the beach into the rambunctious water. As I called out to my wife to look, I counted the vehicles. The Jeep drivers reversed the vehicles and went back through the waves onto the beach. I was full of admiration. “That’s how real Jeeps are driven.”

Looking out into the water, I saw seven seals in the waves coming toward the shore. Laughing and pointing, I called to my wife to look. “Look at these seals. There’s seven of them.” As the seals went under water, seven dolphins jumped out of the water over the waves, which I called out to my wife to see.

We then decided to go up on land. Leaving our hut’s porch, we went into the water. Warm, it came up to our knees. Going left, we waded around our hut and up the beach between huts. Looking down, I saw that our neighbors had caught seven silver fish. Pointing them out to my wife, I said, that’s what we need to do.”

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The First Edition Act

This dream was in three acts. All acts are clear and memorable, but I’m only writing about a few scenes in the second act regarding a book.

I was in a classroom with seven others. It was the last day and we were almost finishing up. I’d been taken by the subject, about making improvements in how I live, as were my classmates. We’d become a close group, but after days of all-day classes, the classroom was messy.

Close to the final hour, we took a break. Two people came in. One was a cleaning person, a female, and the other was a young man. The young man was collecting books to send to a poor town in another country. In very high spirits, I helped the cleaning person, and then I helped the young man. They left. After a few more minutes, class was ready to resume.

When I went back to my seat, I discovered my copy of the book gone. I realized it must have gone with the young man and rushed out of the classroom to find him and retrieve my book.

The classroom was in a huge building and crowded with people. I hurried along, looking for the fellow and asking others if they’d seen him and where he’d gone. After some of this, a friend, Brent, told me that he’d seen the man leave by a side door several minutes before. I hurried there where another person said yes, the guy had been there, and he’d just driven off in his truck.

Upset, I wandered back toward my classroom, but I was obsessed. I wanted to keep the book for future use. Knowing that others had taken the course, I walked around to see if I could find another copy of it.

Dark blue, soft bound, with its title in yellow letters, I did find other copies of it. Some belonged to friends, and they were keeping the book. Nobody had an extra. I saw it alone on people’s desk a few times and thought about stealing those books, but that’s not something that I would do.

Continuing on my quest to find a copy, I entered a large work office. Everyone there was busy, and looked up when I entered. Embarrassed, I tried to slip through the classroom by staying close to the perimeter and get out without drawing too much attention or being an interruption. But doing that required me to pass the woman who was in charge. Calling me by name, she asked what I was doing.

I was impressed and pleased that she knew me by my name, as she was someone important in the company, so I told her had happened. Sympathizing, she offered me her copy of the book, and told me to keep it.

Her worn copy was black and smaller. As I declined taking it, I opened it and realized it was a signed first-edition. “I can’t take this, it’s a signed first edition.”

The woman waved me off. “Take it, it’s yours.”

After so more of similar back and forth, I left with the book. Outside the office, I stood in the hall to consider the prize that’d been given to me.

End of act.

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Seven

She doesn’t know who first called her Seven. She knows that’s who she is. They all have the same name because they think of themselves as the same person, even though they know that they’re different.

She exists everywhere, but there are only seven of them, so she only exists in seven places and times at once. The seven were certain that there were no more than them.

When we say everywhere, we refer to every dimension, and every time and place. Only one of the seven are ever there. Only one person there can see and communicate with her when she visits someplace. It may not be the same person if and when she returns to a place.

She has been the same age during all of her existence. She has no memory of a beginning, and she wonders if she has an end. The seven of them have their own minds and memories, and they can talk to one another, regardless of where they are. None of them have ever died, that any of them ever knew, and she really doesn’t know how she looks. She’s never seen her reflection.

Other than those things, she’s just like everyone else, except she’s happier.

She’s Seven.

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William Shatner and Seven

The dreams, the dreams.

A tsunami of eclectic dreams lifted me up and carried me out. The numeral “seven” dominated. I know of at three instances. I believe that I counted seven dreams, and seven appeared in two of them.

An argument ensued, and a rift opened between two groups. I knew them all. I thought it was bullshit, and stayed loyal to my friend. The rest were throwing a party. My friend was being ostracized and wouldn’t go. I went anyway, to make a point. The host asked me if I was still friends with the other guy. I said, “Yes.” “Then you’ll need to pay seven dollars for a beer.”

Fine. WTF? went through my mind. Was that supposed to intimidate me?

I left the house through a back door, just to get fresh air. A Saint Bernard was there. He wanted out. I knew he wasn’t supposed to get out, but he got out when I opened the door. He ran around a moment, and then I said, “Get back into the house,” which he did. I returned to the party and went to the hostess. I had not finished my beer, but I wasn’t staying. I gave her the seven dollars and said, “Give this to your husband.” She didn’t understand and didn’t want to accept it. “Just give it to him,” I said. “Tell him it’s from me. He’ll understand.”

Seven appeared again later:

I’d been waiting with my friend to take a course. He remained ostracized. People avoided our table, and our so-called friends were rude to us. The instructor, noticing this, told my friend and I, “Pay me seven dollars. You’ve finished the course.”

“No, we haven’t taken it yet. We’re waiting to take it.”

“No, you don’t need it. You’ve already taken it. Here’s your certificates. Just give me seven dollars.”

Okay.

It was interesting that I was receiving seven dollars, and then giving seven dollars, all under the umbrella of seven dreams.

In another dream vignette, I didn’t like how matters were transpiring. I was being interrogated and told to sign a loyalty statement. That made everyone afraid. I was afraid at that point, but then asked, “Why should I be afraid? I will not.” So I endured, and signed. Everyone else told me that was a mistake. I said, “You’re thinking wrong about this. As long as they have you afraid to sign, they’ll control you. But because I’ve signed, I can never be controlled again.”

They did try to make me sign again, but I prevailed against them, twice, and felt damn good about it.

Then there was the scene where I was in someone else’s new house. It was very high-tech and expensive, with many windows, and even glass walls inside the house. Its layout bemused and amused me. I thought they were trying too hard. While walking through, I saw a wreath with a candle in a box. I’d seen this in portions of other dreams, sometimes in a box, but sometimes hanging on a door. I’d come to know that these were made and distributed by William Shatner.

Seeing this one, I pointed it out to my friend. I said, “They’re everywhere.” My friend said, “That William Shatner is an evil genius.” We laughed.

Out of all this, I awoke from dreaming and slipped into writing mode. I needed to write a chapter called “Circle,” I realized. “Circle” began acquiring substance as soon as the word was known.

So here I go, writing like crazy, at least one more time.

 

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