Sunday, July 31st, 2016 — 21°C / 69°F — Fairly comfortable and sunny @ 9:30 am in Atlantic Canada — I think today is a friend I used to work with – Brenda B.’s – Birthday 🙂 —
— I dreamed my friend, Richard, and I were taking turns driving our friends around near the beaches in towns in Southern Connecticut where I grew up. I’m not sure which one of us was driving when we stopped to give a ride to a friend of his, a woman with dark hair and chocolate brown eyes. I don’t think he ever told me her name.
— Richard was complaining about something that was driving him crazy where he worked and wasn’t having a good day.
— I felt that there was something about this woman that was magical, almost angelic – I turned to her and felt a kind of warm – relaxing – almost ticklishly good feeling rolling around and through me.
— I thought, “Wow-” and ‘heard’ her thinking, “Wow – you’re sensitive – ” she smiled back.
— We began a telepathic conversation.
— “Richard has no idea what a blessing you are -”
— “No, and don’t you dare tell him, either – it’s bad enough I have to put up with his angry thoughts about anything and everything, I couldn’t stand the idea that he might think I have some magical power to wrinkle my nose and make his life perfect, or anyway, force things to be the way he thinks they should be -”
— I nodded, felt really good, felt even better the longer she was riding around with us.
— Then she turned to me, looked a little more serious than she had before, “I’m being encouraged to act as your guide through something that will happen soon -”
— I shuddered. She looked like she felt every weird thought that was zooming through my mind. Was something really catastrophic going to happen? Was I going to have some kind of personal crisis?
— She looked like she was beginning to think I was going to be a bit of responsibility that she wasn’t sure she wanted to accept.
— I sat back, thought, “I’m not really good at taking advice. But I think this is going to be okay – maybe you’re here to answer questions and possibly suggest things, like – what kind of attitude I could try to adopt and what kind of things I might be able to do to try to change negative thoughts and feelings and reactions and thoughts into something more positive? Like you could be a really good example, but I’m the only one who can walk my path through the sands of this world -”
— She grinned, almost laughed, “Okay – This isn’t going to be as bad as I thought it might be – I like the way you think – This might even be fun. -”
= = = = =
— Here it is a couple days later. I’m wondering if she is a real guardian angel who let me know she was here and let me know what her job is and I’m thinking that if this is true – that would be something to look forward to.
Saturday, July 30th, 2016 — 26°C / 78°F — Sunny and Muggy @ 12:34 pm in Atlantic Canada —
— More Serial Dreams? No zombies this time – [ I mumbled a prayer/intention that I did not want to experience any more stupid zombie dreams – ]
— This time I was going back to school – recognized some of my old friends and not-so-friendly kids from the bad old days. But then I guess I kind of graduated from the horrible bully-generating atmosphere of public schools in the 1960’s to the laid back more-fun atmosphere where life was to be enjoyed and learning almost anything could be fun if nobody was making it his [or her?] business to spoil everybody else’s time – Maybe the later dreams were more like college courses and seminars on subjects several of us were really interested in and nobody was trying to pound b.s. facts and figures into our heads and screaming that our lives depend on memorizing insanely meaningless clap-trap?
— But the last little bit was me and several others looking at each other and gasping – wondering, “Why are were expected to go to [expensive] formal universities and colleges and pay ever-increasing fees to learn fun stuff we could be learning and teaching each other for free, out in the fresh air somewhere?”
— That was a lot more fun than dealing with zombies – which was the subject of yesterdays creepy serial dreams — [ * I went back and added the stupid zombie dreams, predated to yesterday * ]
Friday, July 29th, 2016 — 22°C / 71°F & Cloudy @ Noon here in Atlantic Canada — Kaylie S.’s Birthday 🙂 —
— Dreams with Zombies? Several Scenarios running into one another? These zombies weren’t particularly scary and they weren’t trying to rip me apart and eat my brain or anything – They did not look like re-animated corpses – [ Maybe I’ve been watching too much of the Political conventions lately? Gack – ] They did have an agenda – I got the creepy feeling that someone was controlling them and sending them out – not so much to do actual harm to the rest of us – who were not zombies (yet?) – They were just massing to block our progress toward a happy world where everyone could feel safe and comfortable and fulfilled? They had a repertoire of modern pseudo-hip gestures that were supposed to make us feel like we were the most un-hip & stupid creatures the universe ever produced. They were like brainless versions of the meanest ultra-Gotta-Be-Popular kids in high school and middle school – who’d never grown out of that? And when several of us came to the conclusion that we had to try to do something to protect – especially teenagers and pre-teen kids – those who were most vulnerable to their evil looks and nasty fowl-mouth put-downs, someone handed me a crowbar – But swinging at them with all my strength didn’t have much of an effect on any of them – their heads rang with a “ping” like a baseball being hit by a hollow metal bat. And the zombies just seemed to be slightly stunned for a second or two, shuddered and then plodded on to complete their missions, whatever those missions were – There were dozens of them, just walking dull eyed and purposefully through a school yard toward a destination I never was quite sure about.
— It was creepy. I almost didn’t want to write this down, didn’t want to remember any of that.
Thursday, July 28th, 2016 — 28°C / 82°F in a Thunderstorm @ 3:30 pm in Atlantic Canada —
— Everybody was still sleeping at noon so I went back to bed myself.
— Dream: A haunted house – Somebody told me her house was haunted so I went to check it out. The first floor was fine. Nothing going on there, but signs of people living there, children playing and laughing happily. The second floor was slightly ‘nervous’ like somebody was worried about something. But – looking up to the third floor there were shadows walking across the hallways and showing up in areas that were lighted. Going toward the stairs it became obvious that the lighted outline of somebody was moving around up at the top of the stairs, at the landing. Climbing the stairs, the outline filled in and showed a 17th or 18th century man, dressed like a prosperous gentleman farmer or businessman. He looked angry.
— I began to meditate and project blessings into the house. Several more lighted outlines of people began descending toward me. Other people joined me in meditating and cleared the house.
— I had to go away and came back several months later. The woman who owned the house told me they had a meditation group meeting regularly on the third floor, in a room they had reclaimed from what had been an attic. She also told me that regularly – people who were meditating there finished their meditations and discovered small gifts in their hands, silver or gold pins, a Cloisonné pin of a red drum from the colonial period, ear rings and bits of costume jewelry. I was perplexed and wasn’t sure whether to tell them to accept these gifts or worry that they might come with strings attached.
Thursday, July 28th, 2016 — 23°C / 74°F & Slightly Overcast @ 10:32 am in Atlantic Canada —
More Serial Dreams — Not in Order — Most of these flow into each other in a large building that may be a workplace or learning institution:
I was working with some kind of computer graphics that I probably downloaded, and they came through with weird names and did not function as graphics until I renamed them and added suffixes like “.jpg” or “.png” etc. — I had so many of these to fix that I treated each one by adding an “i” or a “c” before their weird alphanumeric names and giving them their suffixes. I was not happy with being rushed through this and told myself I would have to come back and rename them again – give them names that would be more universally easy to understand so my colleagues who had to work with them when I was finished would have an easy time identifying them and wouldn’t have to walk through viewing each and every one of them each time they needed one of these images for whatever projects they were working on. — Now that I’m awake, I can’t recall what the ‘i’ or ‘c’ designations meant.
Some kind of a guy I thought was a wannabe life coach came to me and told me he ‘needed to talk to me’ about something to do with personality test results. I grinned at him and said, “Let me guess – I need to work on my people skills.”
I’m not sure whether the workday or class was over, but I had to walk around people I knew and recognized (from my ‘real life’) – and got into a large, many stalled washroom. The stalls had no doors. I was slightly worried that my English/Creative Writing teacher ( a woman ) would come in and see me sitting on a toilet. I kind of shrugged and sighed and knew I had no choice.
I think I went home – either to another building or another part of the larger building. I think I walked outside and crossed a small dead end street to get to my home, where either family or half a dozen roommates, or a mixture of both, also lived. Like I tried to hint above, I’m not sure the living quarters weren’t a ‘wing’ of the large masonry, or brick, building. I just took a shortcut in pleasant evening weather to get ‘home’. I think we were all ‘young twenty something’ adults. — My friend Larry [ who died unexpectedly a couple years ago – maybe 2012 – ] came to visit and while I was in another room doing something, told my friends and at least one sister [ Sharon ] that he’d been having minor annoying problems with something. He was joking about it, as if he was saying that his life was annoyingly complicated like everyone else’s. — I looked outside and saw what had to be Larry’s very white ‘Smart Car’ parked out front – with a nasty gash in the left rear panel and bits of twisted metal forming a weird, almost flower petal look. But there were flames coming out the back of his vehicle. I hurriedly told him his car was on fire. He groaned and went outside and looked at the flames for a moment or two before he grabbed a lever and moved it- and the fire went out.
— Um, there was more, but this is all I can remember, now that it’s like two hours since I got up to feed the pets.
— I’m also not sure whether somebody in the dream told me it was time for me to ‘go home’ or whether that was another recent dream. –,
Wednesday, July 27th, 2016 — 27°C / 79°F – Sunny & Muggy @ 10:21 am in Atlantic Canada —
In a series of dreams with continuity :
I was working at a newspaper or video news organization with a group of young-ish men and women, some of whom I recognized as having been hyper-critical near bullies in high school, the kind who sneered and never had anything good to say, who usually began a conversation with a sneering fault-finding put-down of whatever person they were talking to. We all had blue and white shirts we were supposed to wear while we were reporting (on the air?) These short sleeved shirts were there for anybody to wear when it was their turn to research or report a story. The shirts looked like they had a plastic coating.
I went to the police with notes. These notes were on about a six inch [ top to bottom ], by three inch wide yellow, lined pad. I was made to feel like I was in trouble with the law. But my notes were thorough – I got my point across to the police officials’ satisfaction – They then brought me to Fire Department investigators who asked me to repeat my story to them and answer their questions. When I got back to the News Office I was happily relieved and told everyone that I had new contacts at the Police Department and The Fire Department. I got some kind of promotion, got my own desk and a bonus large enough to buy my own blue and white shirt so I wouldn’t have to wear one of the communal shirts.
I was with several others, maybe from the news office, maybe a completely different group of people. We were traveling around in an alien (as in Extra-Terrestrial) vehicle that had the capability of transporting us in and out of the consensus time line – we could “phase out” and move around in a nearby parallel dimension where we could see people in our normal time ‘zone’, but they were ‘frozen’ in extreme slow motion. They didn’t know we were there. — While we were phasing in and out and moving around in that dimension, I was taking notes on a smaller yellow lined ‘sticky notes’ pad and secretly leaving messages to the people in the normal time zone.
Back in the news office I was happy to sit at my private desk with my private shirt hanging on a hanger in what may have been my private closet. I got up and moved back to the room where all my colleagues were clustered together with typically four desks together in groups, two side by side facing two more side by side so they almost looked like one large desk with their seams presenting just a bit of groove between desks. It was down time, lunch break or something, and the idle reporters were playing some kind of game with silver balls that looked like ball bearings, but were probably plastic. The balls were different sizes and had slightly different coloured glows so they could be identified as ‘belonging’ to different players. The game they were playing was something between table top Bocce and a very fluid kind of Curling where the players put amazing spin on their balls and the balls roll around in circles and try to knock other players’ balls off the field. I was unfamiliar with the game and asked somebody how it was played and how it was scored. This wise cracking reporter type grinned and said, “You have to have a lot of balls to play this game.”
— This was the last dream of several sequences, and is the only one I remember right now.
=====
— I was rowing a boat, on a smallish lake with several friends (maybe six?). We were enjoying ourselves, but then I noticed that the boat was taking on water. I told the others, and began rowing for shore. But the boat tipped and was fully underwater and thinking seriously about dropping to the bottom ( I think it was a wooden boat, it should have floated – even if it was full of water – right? ) — At least one friend began helping me, I think he was dragging the boat by it’s bow while I was still rowing and getting somewhere. — Looking into the murky water of the lake I could see quite a few fish – or shadows of fish, looking like very well detailed trout, swimming near the bottom in that dark murky water – There were also shadows of plants and pieces of sunken junk down there, I don’t think it was that deep. The guy who was pulling the boat while I was rowing was standing about waist deep and where I was looking was deeper, but it couldn’t have been much deeper – six to ten feet? — I thought about stepping out into the lake and helping the friend pull the boat and in the dream, I told myself those fish were not going to try to bite us. — I turned my head and saw the grass covered bank was close – couldn’t have been more than ten yards / meters away.
[ While I was falling asleep our 25 pound cat jumped up on the bed and fell asleep on my right leg. I woke up maybe fifteen minutes later, the cat was gone and my right leg was in pain, the same kind of pain you get with a ‘charly-horse’ – I managed to move into a position that slowly made the pain go away and got my leg to relax.
I really don’t think that has anything to do with these two dreams: ]
-Two heavy duty dreams-
In the first dream, I’m not me, I’m a married guy who’s had a stroke. I’m wheelchair bound and can’t communicate. I know my wife is under too much pressure, is my only advocate and tries her best to explain to doctors what I was like before my stroke and what I would probably like to have them do. The doctors all look at her like they think she has real problem and shake their heads behind her back. Then my wife packs me into our van with our dog and drives two hundred and fifty miles to the motel we went to on our honeymoon. When we get there the motel is closed down, shuttered, plywood nailed over the windows- As she’s standing outside the van with me in a motorized wheelchair inside, she walks the dog, gets him back into the van and stands there looking hopeless when somebody in a motorhome pulls up, opens his window and says, “We’re closed for the season- hey, I remember you two- I’m sorry, and I can see by your license plate you came a long way, if you really need a place to stay for the night, I can let you use the old cabin out back-” and he fishes around for the keys- My dream wife stutters and stammers and blurts that she had so much trouble getting the ‘puppy’ into the van- and I can see her tears and know that when we came here on our honeymoon we met that man’s mother, who was rescuing cats, and she fell in love with the kittens and I promised her, I don’t know how many years ago that was (in the dream) that when we got settled I would drive her back up here and we could get one of the kittens she wanted so badly. We never did. In my semi-paralyzed state, I can see that she doesn’t want to ask the man if his mother is still alive. I wonder if my wife is having a stroke and I’m helpless to help her.
When I woke up I thought that dreaming I was somebody else was really weird and I also thought it was very strange that I didn’t have a clue as to what my wife’s name was, or what the character who was me in the dream – what his name was. I realized my leg was not throbbing with pain and I guess drifted quickly back to sleep.
– – – – –
In the second dream I’m somebody else again, I’m sick, I have a hacking cough and I think I’m secretly dying of cancer or something like that. A gay friend who was about the only person who was ‘there for me’ when I was devastated by an ugly divorce, comes to see me and he makes me dinner. He might be the only one of my friends who suspects that I am really as sick as I am. After I was going through my divorce and this guy wasn’t around, ( I think he took a job somewhere else or something ) I had several friends laughingly tell me that I was the only person in ‘our circle’ who didn’t know that this guy was gay. As I’m hacking and gasping, he comes over and puts his arms around me and gives me a couple expensive gifts. I nearly collapse, turn around and cough and gasp and spit some blood into a tissue and hide it. My gay friend says, “We have to get you to a doctor, don’t you worry about a thing, now that we’re a couple I will take care of you.” As I’m shaking I reach onto a hutch and give him a couple trinkets that were identical to pieces of jewelry in a movie we both liked in those bad old days. In the movie a man gave these pieces of jewelry to a woman who thought he was getting up his courage to ask her to marry him. In the movie a weird character looked at the jewelry and laughed, “Oh – don’t you know what this means? These are symbols that would tell any gay person that there is no real attraction there at all – See? This one has the number “3” inscribed on the back and this one has the number “2” – together they add up to “5” and we all know what happens when you divide 5 in half, you get a fraction-” My gay friend looks at me with tears in his eyes, sniffs, “Omigod, I’m sorry, you’re really not gay at all, are you? I better go-” and runs out the door, leaving dinner burning on the stove while I gasp and cough and collapse on my couch.
– – – – –
I woke up wondering where the silly numbers came from and whether they meant anything at all.
I also wondered if I was intercepting somebody else’s dreams.
Sunday, July 3rd, 2016 — 16°C / 61°F @ 9:39 am with brilliant sunlight, deep blue skies and very nicely lit up clouds leisurely moving above the houses and hills here in Atlantic Canada — It’s Kyla’s Birthday Today 🙂 —
Beautiful photo, beautiful sentiment —
— I started out this morning to write about a weird dream I had – & discovered the computer I fixed yesterday had gone into blue screen mode. I was able to convince it to shut down and then, remarkably, I was able to restart it – the problem seems to be that while it is protected by Avast and Malwarebytes it thinks it is totally unprotected. and wants to scream that at me every couple minutes.
— Then I discovered that my dream journal blog has developed a fatal problem that won’t let it load, and I can’t sign into it. And several blogs are complaining that they need to be updated. Including this one. & “Blogzilla 2.0” is full of nonsense from fatcow dot com which may be in collusion with one nasty, fraudulent extortionist or another and has shut down access to blogs mirrored on their servers because I refused to pay their ever increasing nonsensical ‘protection racket’ prices. — groan —
— sigh, & now the cat is complaining that I’m late with his breakfast.
= = = = =
— It is now 10:51 am. {{{ & 19°C / 66°F — Sunny and breezy with lots of brightly lit up clouds floating happily against a deep blue sky here in Atlantic Canada. }}}
& now, the dream.
— I’m pretty sure I was walking around the Milford, Connecticut, of my youth with my cousin, Glenn. He had grown taller than me. I was six feet three and he was probably six feet four and a half. It felt like we were back in our late teens. Too young to drive – too young for our parents to start nagging us to go out and get a job — old enough to feel the sting of knowing our parents were wrong – they’d been lied to and they’d believed the lies — but we weren’t old enough yet to understand that we knew that we were a little more right than they were – that we were ‘plugged in’ to a Truth that they couldn’t see or understand. The Beatles and the Stones had landed and taken their place in the collective consciousness (and unconsciousness – where applicable) so the social revolution was beginning and we were feeling something like empowerment – like something new and exciting and spiritually truthful was trying to transform the world into something we could believe in, not some nightmare manipulated by greedy older men with evil dark agendae – who believed in killing off the best and brightest of every generation so they and theirs could maintain power.
— We walked around, connected with friends and went to some kind of party reminiscent of the first time we played together in a band, we knew three songs and everybody thought we were fantastic, wanted to hear those three songs over and over again. I had a slightly warped and hard to play electric bass guitar and guys and girls caught up in the rock and roll revolution were shocked and impressed by the way I could play in time and with feeling they’d never felt from the lousy AM radios we all had in those days.
— Then we ended up ‘crashing’ sleeping in a room full of couch cushions arranged on a floor. In the dream I woke up worrying that somebody would look at me and know that, dressed or not, with the blanket not quite covering me, I was obviously sexually aroused – I’d been dreaming of the young women who’d been gasping and looking at us like we were potential rock and roll gods while we’d been playing and one of them wanted to sleep with me, but I woke up in a room littered with sleeping guys —
— I guess I lived through that without being discovered or having to explain that I’d been dreaming of starry eyed young women letting me know they’d let me kiss them.
— And as we walked outside somebody pointed across the river and said “That’s not right! There’s only supposed to be three peaks in those mountains. Look, there’s five!”
— In the reality I grew up in, there were no mountain peaks across the river from Milford, in what would have been Stratford. But, Yeah, there they were. I wanted to reach for my cell phone and take a photo of those five mountain peaks. But I quickly forgot that, the mountains began moving- sliding out of sight to the right- (heading north?) and being replaced by more and more mountains on the other side of the river. I gasped and said, “We’re going to have an earthquake-” and heard a commotion and people were running all around us. And I heard somebody else – who had probably come this conclusion independently – shout, “We’re gonna have an earthquake!”
— There was a rumble, not a really big one but a line of mountain cliffs came rolling in like they were on a railroad train and took up residence next door. I was trying to remember the name of those neighbours, realized I was in somebody’s house, and wondered how I would get back across the river to where my baby sister, Nancy, probably needed emotional support and most likely needed to know that I was okay and I wanted to know that she was okay-
— That’s where I woke up.
= = = = =
— It is now 11:27 am and it’s only taken me four and a half hours to write down the details of a dream that should only have taken me fifteen minutes to describe.
~~~~~ Jim
= = = = =
P.S. — 13°C / 55°F @ 12:05 am July 4th, 2016 — I uploaded a backup version of this blog. And that worked. I went through several updates and they worked. I thought I might like a different theme and I believe I found one that fits my ‘sensibilities’. And here we are. Happy 4th of July to all my friends and relatives, even those who actually believe that Canada is a Communist country.
