Tag: water

The Friend & Car Dream

A line of dreams stormed the night. One ended, a short time later, another stole in.

This one featured a friend and co-worker, George. We met during my civilian employment phase. We admired and enjoyed one another from the start. One of his people later came to work for me and commented about how much alike George and I were.

First, though, was some dream weirdness. I was in some non-descript place. Others entered, and we all came together to start putting a wall together. Unknown reasons were behind the wall building, yet we were having fun. With some surprise, I realized that we were building a basement wall. I kept building even as I pondered why that was needed. Finishing it, I curled up on an armchair to sleep and the others left.

My sleep was interrupted by others entering several times. I always knew the new people and found them a place to sleep, sometimes upstairs. Some lived nearby so I questioned, why did they want to sleep in my place, especially my basement? One young woman was particularly puzzling. I think she wanted something from me, so I was sort of leery of her and her intentions. She seemed artificially happy and wanted to sleep close to me.

Then George arrived, along with a fistful of other co-workers. Getting up, I expressed surprise at their arrival. We chatted about old times. George and I had never worked in the same physical location. He worked at the company headquarters, and I was across the country. He and the others were visiting my work location. Pleased with that, I started showing them different things, telling them about how it’d changed since the early days. We were outside now. There used to be a wall up there, which was where we blah blah blah’d, I explained. Asking him and the rest if he remembered aspects of the area and how it used to be, I told him about where people used to go to lunch in the old days.

George wanted to see it. Calling my wife over to join us as the other employees walked on, I told George that I could take him in my car. We were immediately beside it, a gold tone sixties era convertible with the top down that I never quite fully saw. I told my wife that we were going to go see the old lunch area. By that point, George had entered the car and was behind the wheel. He wanted to drive my convertible, referring to it as a classic.

The three of us in the car, George driving, top down, sunshine covering us, drove off. George loved the car’s acceleration. That pleased me. I gave George directions about where to go, continuing to tell him about the changes we passed as we went. The road was smooth, a divided four-lane highway, the traffic light, with a matching mood. Along the way, I told him that people used to ride their bikes to come down here and get lunch, explaining that they’d exploited shortcuts.

We arrived at the lunch spot. Settled in the middle of a huge dirt and gravel parking lot was a large building, wood, painted dark brown. Inside was the same brown color. Fluorescent tube lights and windows provided light. The floor was bare cement. A few tables of aluminum tubes with Formica tops, with padded curved aluminum chairs, were lined against one wall, napkin holders, ketchup and mustard containers on them. Two or three workers in aprons were behind the short corner in one dark corner under work lights. George walked around, looking at the place, not saying anything, as my wife and I silently followed. Then we left.

We took another way back, to stop at another site I’d mentioned. This one was a low, narrow building with lush, exotic landscaping. It wasn’t the building which I expected and told George, but he insisted we go in anyway. The ceiling was low and the inside was dark. Within were a small Asian couple, husband and wife, we assumed. They offered me a glass of water, which I accepted and drank as George walked around. My wife said, “I wish you hadn’t taken that.” I confirmed that she meant the water, which puzzled me.

We decided to leave. The couple gave George a wrapped piece of gum, and then asked him for 10,000 yen for my glass of water. My wife, George, and I talked in confusion about what was being asked of us. When he understood, George laughed and said, “I don’t have ten thousand yen.” My wife said, “I knew you shouldn’t drink that water.”

We left without paying, but the couple didn’t seem to mind. The dream ended as we got into the car again. George insisted that he would drive.

2

Head In A Jar Dream

We had a head in a jar. Dream knowledge told me it was a clay jar yet it was sufficiently clear to see the head inside. Not completely clear, but filmy and gauzy, as though petroleum jelly was smeared over it.

The head was in a cloudy pale-green liquid, and was male, white, and venerated. Now, on a pedestal, in the middle of scrubland, one other man and I had it. The other man was tall, spare, and mostly silent. Older, but I couldn’t give an age. He seemed to lack interest in the head jar.

I, though, tried singing to it. I thought that if we sang to it, it would sing back. Though the head’s eyes would look at me, and it would blink, it wouldn’t sing back. The other man wouldn’t sing either. That didn’t affect my mood. I remained optimistic and energetic. I then started prattling other ideas to him about the head in the jar. Maybe we should take it to a market and sell it. We could get good money for it. Or we can set it up in a square and I’ll ask others to sing with me to see if we could get the head to sing. I spoke to the head, asking it, what do you want us to do?

A hunter, armed with a compound bow and arrows, dressed in woodland camouflage vest, hat, and pants, came along. I quietly watched him. He saw the head in a jar on a pedestal, but went on, looking for animals to shoot.

The army came along, as expected. This was an army of the people. They walked, but didn’t march, in orderly rank and file. Most wore ragged clothing. All ages, races, and sexes were in it. My older, silent friend and I joined them, and the head in the jar was given to someone to carry. I was leading one large group, but in an unofficial capacity. On a road, we were supposed to keep up with the other groups but were going too slowly. Impatiently, I urged them, “Come on, we must keep up.” We’d been warned not to get separated because that would leave us exposed and vulnerable to attack. I saw the group ahead pulling away. I walked faster, thinking that my example might prod the group to walk faster. No; they instead dawdled and began chatting about trivial ideas. Exasperation building, I walked faster, becoming separated from both groups. But being in the middle, I could see them both and thought, if something were to happen to one group, I could turn to the other group to help.

We came to broad creek running low in a sandy, rocky basin. As I went to the water to drink, my group caught up to me. One said, “We know that women like you.” As I laughed at them, he continued, “We’ve all seen the way they react to you.”

End of dream.

2

A Three-fer of Dreams

I was traveling a long distance with a group. We reached out destination and prepared to return. I engaged the leader. He had a large, laminated map. Using it, he showed our segments of travel and the energy expended during those times. He planned to do the same for the return. We entered a back and forth about the energy. I insisted that the total energy should be considered a final sum and that we could then break it up any way we needed, that we didn’t need to use the same energy, time of travel, etc, on the way back, but were free to do whatever we preferred. After lengthy discussion, he agreed.

I was then with a group of ex-military. We’d been working on projects that involved previous military resources. No longer used or needed, we were repurposing them. This included buildings, furniture, vehicles, and sites. All of us were demoralized because the work we’d previously finished in this manner was each time then successively destroyed or plowed under. As our leader laid out the newest project and exhorted us, I asked, “What’s the point of this?” I pointed out in detail what happened to the three previous projects and asked, “What’s there to make us believe that it won’t happen to this project, too?” He couldn’t argue back. At my suggestion, we abandoned the idea and agreed to put our energies into something else. We began to search for that.

I ended up with childhood friends in one of their houses. The house was gorgeous, very impressive. It had an infinity pool, which really impressed me, because it looked like silver and some to go on, well, for infinity. We played and splashed in the water. Coming into the house, I was embarrassed for us because we were getting water everywhere. I ran into his mother who waved away those concerns, laughing while telling me, don’t worry about that.

We decided it was time to leave but needed to dress first. I put on a pair of blue jeans. Pain lanced down my leg. As I reacted, I saw a large white and black striped coral colored spider dropped onto the floor. It was about the size of my palm. I considered stomping and smashing it but didn’t. Checking my leg, I verified that I’d been bitten. A large purple and red welt was rising. There was pain but it had plateaued.

The spider scurred off to the wall. Others wanted to go after it but I urged, “Leave it alone. It’s not a threat to anyone.” Conversations mushroomed about the evidence to the contrary, that I’d been bitten. I pointed out that the swelling was already gone. So was the pain, and my skin was returning to a normal color. Therefore, that was all temporary and no big deal. I finished dressing and hurried out after my friends.

Dream end. All in all, very positive and energizing.

0

The Supreme Court Dream

A young man, I was newly hired as a manager at a large, modern corporation — unnamed in the dream — and was just learning the what, who and where of my duties. The day was energetic as exciting news circulated. Marketing was hosting an important event but also, all the SCOTUS justices were arriving at our building. They were using it to attend another event, and I was invited. My boss was one from my RL (a favorite, in fact), and told me that I should go. Truthfully, I was a little intimidated — I shy away from events like that in RL — but I didn’t tell her that, instead saying, okay, I will. Friends from this era of life, younger in the dream, came by and urged me to go. Okay, I answered them.

Meanwhile, I came across a mess where the big event was to take place. I thought someone had vomited all over. It horrified me. I worried that it had been my cat because I’d seen him eating a lot of food. As I asked that question, I looked to my left and saw more ‘vomit’ and realized, no, a PA bringing pizza into the room had tripped, dropping several pizzas out of their boxes. I scrambled to help him clean up. Rushing into another room, I asked several people for cleaners. One guy opened a backpack and began searching through it, removing all kinds of materials, like boxes of condoms, from his backpack as he searched. It was like the TARDIS of backpacks.

Before he found a cleaner, the announcement came through that the justices had arrived and it was time to go to their event. People were scurrying around with nervousness and excitement. Joining a queue, a woman friend said, “You have to walk through water to get there. It’s not deep and it’s worth it.”

I puzzled through that as the line move. Turning, I discovered that I was beside a female justice. She wasn’t anyone recognized from RL. I urged her to go ahead of me because we were getting on buses to go to the other place. She politely declined. We entered the bus.

Then we got off. A wide artificial lagoon was before us. Lined with cement, steps led down into the calm and clean, clear water. I saw a winding path going through the water. A pair of women ahead of me went down the steps and entered the water. I followed, with the justice behind me. I offered her help; she said she was fine.

I followed the path through the water. It rose deeper than expected, coming up to my waist. Looking ahead, though, I saw that the people leaving the water didn’t look wet. I dipped my hand into the water and then lifted it out, confirming that my hand wasn’t wet. How weird was that, water that didn’t went you. It must be special water, I thought, but how was that possible? Where did it come from?

Then I was back in the company building. The pizza mess had been cleaned up. I discovered that a copying machine was out of order. Looking around, I found something and made an out-of-order sign with a black marker. As I put it on the machine, a PA rushed up to tell me it was out of office. “I know,” I answered him. “I just made a sign and put it on the top.” I indicated my homemade sign.

Seeing it, he thanked me. “I’ve been so busy,” he said. “You wouldn’t believe it. I appreciate your help.”

I shrugged it off. “No problem. Happy to do it.”

“Would you like a beer? We have beer for our guests. I’m sure we can spare some for you.”

I accepted beer in a plastic cup and thanked him. Sipping beer, I began returning to my office to work on a document which I knew my boss wanted me to review but then thought, I probably shouldn’t drink beer in my office because the company would probably disapprove.

Another female justice arrived. I was surprised, as I thought all of them had left. She explained that she missed her bus back and needed to contact someone, but she had no phone or telephone numbers. I scrambled, finding a phone and realized that I knew someone to call. I called them and gave her the phone. After she hung up, she told me that they were coming for her and thanked me for the help.

The dream ended.

6

The Magic Models Dream

The dream began with me in a small town with two friends, a male and female. We were all youngish, I’d guess in our twenties. An attack by Russian aircraft on another place in the world was underway. I had three models of the aircraft involved in my hands. These models were about a foot long but made of plastic. Somehow, using magic and the models, we were able to down the five jets. We knew this by watching it in a shallow puddle of water. Although the three of us were involved, the other two credited me with doing it.

Afterward, as we walked around the small town, with its parks and wide, quiet streets, news of what we’d done spread. People kept showing up out of nowhere asking for details and then asking if we could do it again. I was certain that we could. My female friend arrived with a video camera and told me that she wanted to interview me. Then she would broadcast it and put it on the net. I agreed to that, and was ready with the models, but small matters kept delaying us from beginning the interview.

She said that we would do it later and walked off after I agreed. I walked around more with the models and came to a fast moving, swollen creek. While watching the water rising up over rocks and crashing down, I grew aware that I could see other scenes happening in it. They mesmerized me. Leaning in to see things more clearly, I lost one of the models in the water. After some frantic searching for it, I spotted it floating down the creek and rushed after it.

With a little effort, I captured the model as it passed under a bridge. I realized then that it was time for me to meet my friend for the interview. As I arrived there, people approached me and told me that news crews from CBS and NBC were there to interview me. Someone else told me someone wanted to have me on their television show but I couldn’t understand the television show.

I saw my friend set up with the camera by a pavilion under a wide oak tree. I told everyone that I had to do my interview with her first and then walked in her direction.

Dream end.

0

The Teams Dream

I was a young man — again — for this dream, in my late teens or early twenties. I was with a woman at the beginning, in a suburban setting of houses, streets, and parks. About my age, she seemed like a relative stranger. We were just being informed by a tall pale woman that we’d been selected for a team. That pleased us both. We were selected for different teams, which made us laugh. Each team had a uniform and marker. My uniform was black and yellow like a bee. Her uniform was something like pink and black. Others were white and black, and light blue and black.

We readily grasped the rules although it’s nothing that I can recount. Each morning, we showed up and raced to procure a specific object, like spoons or fish, or to recruit people by tagging them with your marker, according to instructions provided by the tall, ball woman. My marker was black and fuzzy. I could throw it at people and make it stick, sometimes throwing curve balls to make this happen, or from extreme distances, astonishing myself and others. Each day became a fun, constant race to get this done, and then get back to our homes. My friend and I taunted one another in a good-natured way throughout the event, along the lines, “I’m going to win today,” and “See you at the finish line, loser.”

We found ourselves in small single-winged prop planes. I began trying to drop my marker onto people below, but the marker was turning into fish as it hit them. I’d tell them, as they picked up the fish and looked up at me in the plane, “That’s supposed to be a marker.” They didn’t understand that any better than a fish hitting them.

We ended up at the ocean, in waves. I ran out through the surf and then turned and entered a cove. At that point, I realized, I’d gone the wrong way. That put me way behind.

I’ve lost, I realized, then decided, I need to start again.

0

Unfinished Business Dream

My wife and I were young folks, in our twenties, in this dream, and very realistic to who we were in RL, including our clothes. She was busy with cleaning. I was tinkering with the kitchen faucet, which wasn’t going well. I’d change one thing and it would start spraying sideways. Something else would be adjusted, causing the water to shoot straight up. But I was determined: I will fix this. Yet, I was laughing, telling my wife as the water shot off in a new strange arc, “Check this out.” Unbelievable.

Surrendering to that temporarily because I thought I needed to think about what to do, I went off for more DIY. I’d noticed a younger person holding up a wall in the corner of another room. That might be something that I needed to address. I went in there and asked them about the situation. They were holding up the wall because it would fall over if they didn’t. “Let me see,” I said. “Step back.”

They did. The wall started toppling over.

The two of us jumped in and held it up. “But is it the wall coming down or just, like, wallpaper?” I asked. I thought that’s what I’d actually seen. We tentatively released the wall, confirming that it wasn’t the wall coming down, but just the cover.

Then I was arriving at work. Dressed in a suit with tie, I joined others in a small but well-lit office with lots of windows. “Hello, Michael, about time you got here,” I heard. Stepping into a small office where the voice seemed to emanate, I found the one accosting me was Jeffrey Donovan, of “Burn Notice” and other television shows and movies. “I’m your new boss,” he cheerfully informed me. “You’re working for me now.”

Then, I was arriving at work again, sighing because it seemed like I was just hear. “Hi Michael, good morning,” I heard from Donovan. WTH, why was he singling me out like that?

I arrived on a third morning and sighed. “Hello, Michael,” Donovan called out.

“It wasn’t me,” I shouted back, lying. Then I leaned in around his office door. “How did you know it’s me when you’re in here?”

“I have eyes everywhere,” he answered.

I was done with work. Instead, I was cutting grass and doing general landscaping chores. I was part of a crew of four others. One was a friend and the other two were strangers, but we all got on well. While we worked, we saw an area where another crew had worked; we scoffed at the job they’d done. We could do better.

The home’s owner, an elderly and tall, white woman with silver hair who looked and sounded like Bea Arthur, came out and complimented us on our work. We pointed out where the other crew had been and told her that we could improve it. After some back and forth, she agreed that we could the other area, too. Happy that we’d won more work, we set to work improving it.

A large pool was alongside our work area. Others were swimming. Four young men staged a race. We mocked them because we thought ourselves better swimmers. Then we wondered which of the four of us was the fastest swimmer.

The owner appeared. We asked if she minded if we had a race in her pool. “Go for it,” she answered.

We lined up in our trunks. After counting to three together, we dove in and raced to the far end. I came in second to my friend.

Dream end.

0

A Vivid Dream

It was a short, intense, vivid dream.

A white bearded man wearing a blue plaid shirt was chuckling with happiness. “I just learned that I have a best-selling novel.” He was carrying a dish and walking as he spoke. “For the hell of it, I checked to see if anyone else in town had a NYTimes bestseller, and there is. It’s a good thing I checked. What are the chances that a town as small as this would have two NYTimes best selling novelists?”

We, watching him, agreed, that was amazing. We were pleased for him because he was part of our little writing group.

He took the dish to a drawer. Pulling the drawer out revealed a faucet. Water gushed out when he opened it. As he laughed, asking, “How am I supposed to fill this with so much coming out?”

Then, in a startling shift, I was the man. I closed the faucet some and ducked the bowl under the stream and back out, filling it. Satisfied, I shut off the faucet and closed the drawer.

Dream end.

2

The Cougar Dream

My wife and I were in an austere but large, yet old, cement apartment. The walls were deep pink. So was the ceiling and furniture but the floor was burnt gold. Furniture was scant – bed, table, one stick chair. The ceiling was low and the lumens from the few lights weren’t high.

It was night. Awakening and turning on the lights, I discovered a huge cougar prowling the room. The animal’s presence shocked and terrified me. The cougar was closer to me than my wife. I told her, “Go open the doors so it can get out.” Meanwhile, I made myself big to keep the animal from attacking me, raising my arms over my head. Extending that thinking, I climbed backwards up on the bed. Picking up the pillows, I held them over my head.

The cougar watched all of this with quizzical interest. It was an enormous, healthy, beautiful animal. Meanwhile, my wife was walking around and talking. I kept telling her, “Open the door, let the lion out,” but she seemed more interested in trying to make friends with it. The animal moved away from me. With its back to me, I jumped down and shooed it toward a door. Just as I got it out, two men opened the door and let it back in. They were joking about letting my cat out while I told them, “No, no, no, we were trying to get it out.”

I then left. Outside was bright and sunny. I was on a narrow, sandy beach. Turquoise water lapped gently to my right. Nobody else was around. I walked a while, enjoying the breeze, sounds, and sunlight, before stepping into the warm, tranquil water and bathing myself.

I shared this dream with my wife. She noted the cougar never threatened anyone. I agreed; I saw it as a threat, but it never threatened anyone. She said that bathing myself was a sign of cleansing myself. I told her, after encountering that cougar, I needed to clean myself off.

1

A Keys Dream

Randy, a friend who died years ago, showed up in my dreams again last night. A few years older than me, Randy died of colon cancer before his sixtieth birthday, after a twenty-year military career.

In last night’s dream, Randy and I were playing ‘Empire’. Empire was a computer game I played in Germany in 1989-1990. Randy had never played it so I was teaching him as we played. But we were playing the computer game while we stood in warm, salty ocean water. And though it was a computer game, the screen was on large sheets of scrolling white paper. I’d taught Randy the basics of exploring, conquering a place, and setting up production. Now I was teaching him strategy.

Meanwhile, someone tossed someone else a set of keys. The second person missed the keys. The keys fell into the ocean. I knew exactly where the keys had landed on the ocean floor but didn’t go after it. People with boats were arriving. The boats were oddly shaped, as if constructed from large Legos but missing pieces. The trucks bringing them in were in different color schemes, like red and black, and green and black, almost like auto racing teams, with numbers on the trucks and boats. Eyeing those as they passed, I tried placing where and how I knew the trucks.

Randy then interrupted to announce he was building submarines. We had a side conversation about that, with him explaining that he liked submarines and he didn’t care about strategy. Boat people arrived but worried whether their boats would float, alternating between confidence that they would and anxiety they wouldn’t.

Someone then mentioned the missing keys. I announced that I knew where they were and could get them.

Dream end.

0

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