In my dream, I'm standing outside next to someone. We watch a third person make a rescue:
There is a small mammal (mouse? maybe bigger, but not a rat!) hanging from the underside of a bridge. It's a metal bridge and the animal is hanging by its front paws off the horizontal ledge of a steel girder. It's maybe 15 to 20 feet above where we're standing. We watch as the animal lets go -- and this third person is standing exactly where he should be to catch the animal. And he does so. I don't recall what he does with the critter, but it is a kindly thing for sure.
And then it is my time to do the same. I walk to the place where I should stand and see the next animal move down to the same metal ledge. The animal lets go and it slips/bounces off my hands and falls down a circular drain. I hadn't seen the drain as I was preparing to catch the animal. If I had, I might have positioned myself more carefully. The drain isn't deep, but its surface is coated with a chemical (oil, I suppose) that gives off that sheen that an oil slick gives off. I look down into the drain, but the animal is not in sight.
I drop to my knees and try to fish it out of the yucky water. It takes some time, but I get him/her and pull her/him out. Covered with the contamination fluid. It's alive, but not by much. I'm totally unprepared to clean up the animal, and hand it to someone else (I think the second person -- the "someone" mentioned above).
I feel bad for contributing to the animal's plight, but not as bad as I was afraid I was going to feel.
Friday, December 28, 2018
Thursday, December 27, 2018
I cried for my Mother. Finally.
Yesterday -- the day after Christmas. The radio station I was listening to... well, let's step back a bit:
My Mother was a church organist. She had her Master's Degree in Music, so her interest, knowledge, and enthusiasm for good music went 'way back. And of all the available Christmas music, she had two that affected her deeply.
She despised "Oh Holy Night." It was never clear to me exactly why this was. I asked her about it almost every time she heard it and reacted. Badly. I think she felt is was too smarmy or something. Overly dramatic. But another part of it related to a job she had playing music at a local church. There was this guy in the church choir who sang the song every Christmas during church service and he always (in her opinion) went 'way over the top in his performance -- and the congregation loved every note of it. And they told my Mom so. Ick.
So every time I hear that song, I smile -- remembering the response my Mother had. (BTW, she always recovered quickly from her snit. That's the kind of lady she was...)
The song she loved so dearly was "What Child is This?" She knew the song as "Greensleeves." It might have been something about the musical movement from the minor key into the major one. Wouldn't surprise me if that was an important part of it. How the music and the words reflected each other so fully.
And so I would remember her again when I heard that song as well. But it was always a smile that came from a deeper place than the "Oh Holy Night" smile.
But when I heard the song yesterday and remembered my Mother, I started smiling as usual. But all of a sudden it crashed down on me exactly how much I lost when my Mother died. And I cried. Hard.
Now, I cry for relatives that have passed away. A bit for my Dad and small oceans for my older brother. But never for my Mother. And I've always wondered why that was. I have occasionally "blamed" her for favoring my older brother over me (blamed entirely internally, of course!). But even if that were true (and of course I will never know for sure), it's easily understood for family reasons too complicated to go into here. So the "real" reason for feeling so ambivalent about her, I think, escapes me to this very day. But maybe as of yesterday, all that doesn't matter as much as it did. I cried. And felt cleansed.
Some of this is likely mixed up with a quick piece of arithmetic I performed yesterday. Our nuclear family was comprised of seven people: two parents and five kids. And now we are three in number. My next younger brother passed away several months ago -- taking us from "more than half" to "less than half."
I feel pretty good about crying about Mom. She was in so many ways a delightful, wonderful person and everything (you would think) a child could want in a Mom. I feel like I'm meeting her again for the first time.
My Mother was a church organist. She had her Master's Degree in Music, so her interest, knowledge, and enthusiasm for good music went 'way back. And of all the available Christmas music, she had two that affected her deeply.
She despised "Oh Holy Night." It was never clear to me exactly why this was. I asked her about it almost every time she heard it and reacted. Badly. I think she felt is was too smarmy or something. Overly dramatic. But another part of it related to a job she had playing music at a local church. There was this guy in the church choir who sang the song every Christmas during church service and he always (in her opinion) went 'way over the top in his performance -- and the congregation loved every note of it. And they told my Mom so. Ick.
So every time I hear that song, I smile -- remembering the response my Mother had. (BTW, she always recovered quickly from her snit. That's the kind of lady she was...)
The song she loved so dearly was "What Child is This?" She knew the song as "Greensleeves." It might have been something about the musical movement from the minor key into the major one. Wouldn't surprise me if that was an important part of it. How the music and the words reflected each other so fully.
And so I would remember her again when I heard that song as well. But it was always a smile that came from a deeper place than the "Oh Holy Night" smile.
But when I heard the song yesterday and remembered my Mother, I started smiling as usual. But all of a sudden it crashed down on me exactly how much I lost when my Mother died. And I cried. Hard.
Now, I cry for relatives that have passed away. A bit for my Dad and small oceans for my older brother. But never for my Mother. And I've always wondered why that was. I have occasionally "blamed" her for favoring my older brother over me (blamed entirely internally, of course!). But even if that were true (and of course I will never know for sure), it's easily understood for family reasons too complicated to go into here. So the "real" reason for feeling so ambivalent about her, I think, escapes me to this very day. But maybe as of yesterday, all that doesn't matter as much as it did. I cried. And felt cleansed.
Some of this is likely mixed up with a quick piece of arithmetic I performed yesterday. Our nuclear family was comprised of seven people: two parents and five kids. And now we are three in number. My next younger brother passed away several months ago -- taking us from "more than half" to "less than half."
I feel pretty good about crying about Mom. She was in so many ways a delightful, wonderful person and everything (you would think) a child could want in a Mom. I feel like I'm meeting her again for the first time.
Wednesday, December 26, 2018
Bad Dreams 12 -- Morning of 12/26/18
A dream that happened late in my morning sleep routine:
In my dream, I am in a room with several other people. One of them is addressing the rest of us. He reminds me a bit of Tom Buglio. All the other people -- with the possible exception of me -- are sitting cross-legged on the floor listening intently to him. Those who are sitting and listening are considerably younger than the speaker.
His method of explaining stuff has a pattern: an initial statement of an assertion followed by elaboration: a series of examples or other bits of information to support the initial assertion.
I have no problem with any of these initial assertions. They convey information that is useful to me. But the follow-on explanations are far more information than I really need. So I get up and do something else, which occasionally puts my back to the speaker. Now and then, I ask a question of the speaker. He responds with useful information, but my habit of turning away from him and doing something else continues.
I know this annoys him. And I think he answers my questions completely and without chastising me for ignoring his follow-on information -- because he doesn't want to interrupt the "lessons" he's providing for the rest of the group. I am grateful for the information he gives me/us, but doing these other things is equally important. And I feel compelled to continue doing those other things.
I think I "get it." In my dream, the speaker is God. He nourishes me in a number of different ways -- but in the dream, it's all about information. This lines up with the fixation I have about how it all has to make sense. Be logical. I ask and get answers, but then drift off into other things. It's not disrespect, it's just that I feel other obligations and pulls on my time. I feel a tug of envy that the others in the room can sit still and listen to the entire message. But I can't do that yet.
In my dream, I am in a room with several other people. One of them is addressing the rest of us. He reminds me a bit of Tom Buglio. All the other people -- with the possible exception of me -- are sitting cross-legged on the floor listening intently to him. Those who are sitting and listening are considerably younger than the speaker.
His method of explaining stuff has a pattern: an initial statement of an assertion followed by elaboration: a series of examples or other bits of information to support the initial assertion.
I have no problem with any of these initial assertions. They convey information that is useful to me. But the follow-on explanations are far more information than I really need. So I get up and do something else, which occasionally puts my back to the speaker. Now and then, I ask a question of the speaker. He responds with useful information, but my habit of turning away from him and doing something else continues.
I know this annoys him. And I think he answers my questions completely and without chastising me for ignoring his follow-on information -- because he doesn't want to interrupt the "lessons" he's providing for the rest of the group. I am grateful for the information he gives me/us, but doing these other things is equally important. And I feel compelled to continue doing those other things.
I think I "get it." In my dream, the speaker is God. He nourishes me in a number of different ways -- but in the dream, it's all about information. This lines up with the fixation I have about how it all has to make sense. Be logical. I ask and get answers, but then drift off into other things. It's not disrespect, it's just that I feel other obligations and pulls on my time. I feel a tug of envy that the others in the room can sit still and listen to the entire message. But I can't do that yet.
Sunday, December 23, 2018
Bad Dreams 11 -- Morning of 12/23/18
In my dream, I'm in a classsroom with a group of other people. We're all adults. We're in some kind of special group in that we take all our classes together. It's remindful of the Fellows Program, except that we're considerably older than college freshpersons.
The only person I recognize is Rob Vosburgh.
We're milling around waiting for a teacher or administrator or other person to come in and tell us something. I don't know exactly what -- and I think no one else in the class knows either.
Rob is chatting amiably with other students -- a gift he has in "real life" -- and I admire his ability to do this and am somewhat envious. I wish I could do chitchat as easily as he does.
There's something wrong with the class. Things are not going as they were designed to go. And I'm guessing that the person we're waiting for may tell us something about that situation and what the School is preparing to do about it.
I feel that I will be removed from the class. I'm not frightened about that or angry or relieved or much of anything. It feels like it's simply inevitable. I will survive this, but things will be different.
The only person I recognize is Rob Vosburgh.
We're milling around waiting for a teacher or administrator or other person to come in and tell us something. I don't know exactly what -- and I think no one else in the class knows either.
Rob is chatting amiably with other students -- a gift he has in "real life" -- and I admire his ability to do this and am somewhat envious. I wish I could do chitchat as easily as he does.
There's something wrong with the class. Things are not going as they were designed to go. And I'm guessing that the person we're waiting for may tell us something about that situation and what the School is preparing to do about it.
I feel that I will be removed from the class. I'm not frightened about that or angry or relieved or much of anything. It feels like it's simply inevitable. I will survive this, but things will be different.
Bad Dreams 10 -- Morning of 12/19/18
This dream happened several days ago -- and I am just finding the time to document it. So some of the details have slipped away in the intervening time.
I am driving around in a car with another guy. Someone who reminds me of Jack Klugman. Which is a good thing as far as I'm concerned -- I've always been a Jack Klugman fan. However, the two of us are, like, gangsters. He's the senior member of the duo, but I'm driving the car. I feel he's in the car with me to show me the ropes of this line of work.
We're driving around a lot.
He's been told we should drive behind a big building, stop, and wait in the car. We do that and wait for some time, but no one shows up. We don't get any further instructions. I start driving away -- slowly. I tell him I think we're being set up for a hit. He doesn't respond.
(There feels like some kind of hitch/reset/change in the dream at this point.)
We drive past two enormous flags. They're set at angles to each other with the flagstaffs crossing about midway. One, I think is a Maryland state flag. I don't recall clearly what the other one was, but it might have been a Confederate flag. There are two guys standing close to the flags who are dressed like Civil War reinactors.
The other guy in the car is in the back seat. I talk over my shoulder to him but he doesn't respond. I look back to look at him. He's thinking. I understand that he thinking that I was right -- that we were being set up. And he didn't see that coming. And he's concerned.
I am driving around in a car with another guy. Someone who reminds me of Jack Klugman. Which is a good thing as far as I'm concerned -- I've always been a Jack Klugman fan. However, the two of us are, like, gangsters. He's the senior member of the duo, but I'm driving the car. I feel he's in the car with me to show me the ropes of this line of work.
We're driving around a lot.
He's been told we should drive behind a big building, stop, and wait in the car. We do that and wait for some time, but no one shows up. We don't get any further instructions. I start driving away -- slowly. I tell him I think we're being set up for a hit. He doesn't respond.
(There feels like some kind of hitch/reset/change in the dream at this point.)
We drive past two enormous flags. They're set at angles to each other with the flagstaffs crossing about midway. One, I think is a Maryland state flag. I don't recall clearly what the other one was, but it might have been a Confederate flag. There are two guys standing close to the flags who are dressed like Civil War reinactors.
The other guy in the car is in the back seat. I talk over my shoulder to him but he doesn't respond. I look back to look at him. He's thinking. I understand that he thinking that I was right -- that we were being set up. And he didn't see that coming. And he's concerned.
Sunday, December 16, 2018
Bad Dreams 09 -- Morning of 12/14/18
In my dream, I am a fairly new employee of a company that does sales-type work. I am accompanying a senior member of the company on a customer visit. We walk through hallways and spend some time in an office.
The conversation between my "superior" and the customer seems to go well. There is friendly chatter mixed in with the business issues that we were there to discuss. My job is to stay quiet and listen and observe. Learn the ropes. Watch the pro do his thing.
The conversation wraps up and the two guys shake hands and smile. My "superior" and I walk out of the building and (I suppose) towards the parking lot. But I'm deeply concerned:
Listening as carefully as I could, I thought I had heard Customer say that our company would be doing "X" part of the upcoming project. And I also thought I heard my guy say that the customer would be doing "X" instead. And the pleasant chatter between these two kind of covered over this possible misunderstanding. (The non-commitment from the two of them to do "X" was separated by a minute or two of pleasant conversation. So misunderstanding might easily have happened.)
So I bring this to my guy's attention as we stand there outside the customer's building -- thinking that he might want to clarify this before we left to go home. He seems irritated and told me not to worry. Not my job. And I try (internally, of course) to figure out if he's angry at me for mouthing off or he's angry at himself for missing this mistake and worried about the consequences. And doing "X" will cost a lot of money for either us or them. The words he uses to tell me not to worry carry a veiled threat -- about my professional future in and continued employment at the company. I back off.
I realize that it will be easy for me to be the fall guy in this event. That I may well be blamed for not clarifying the "X" situation. And the result being that it will cost my employer extra money (if we do "X") or else lead to ill will between my employer and the customer (if they have to do "X"). Either way I could "take the fall." But I don't see any way to avoid this -- and I'm curious to see how the situation will unfold. More curious than frightened or cowed.
There is some interruption in my dreaming -- perhaps I almost wake up or something -- and when I return to dreaming, I see a small metal frame that is holding onto a baby doll's head. And a hand comes in from the left side of the "scene" and removes the head from the frame. This may be totally unconnected to the "story" of the first dream, but I thought I would mention it.
The conversation between my "superior" and the customer seems to go well. There is friendly chatter mixed in with the business issues that we were there to discuss. My job is to stay quiet and listen and observe. Learn the ropes. Watch the pro do his thing.
The conversation wraps up and the two guys shake hands and smile. My "superior" and I walk out of the building and (I suppose) towards the parking lot. But I'm deeply concerned:
Listening as carefully as I could, I thought I had heard Customer say that our company would be doing "X" part of the upcoming project. And I also thought I heard my guy say that the customer would be doing "X" instead. And the pleasant chatter between these two kind of covered over this possible misunderstanding. (The non-commitment from the two of them to do "X" was separated by a minute or two of pleasant conversation. So misunderstanding might easily have happened.)
So I bring this to my guy's attention as we stand there outside the customer's building -- thinking that he might want to clarify this before we left to go home. He seems irritated and told me not to worry. Not my job. And I try (internally, of course) to figure out if he's angry at me for mouthing off or he's angry at himself for missing this mistake and worried about the consequences. And doing "X" will cost a lot of money for either us or them. The words he uses to tell me not to worry carry a veiled threat -- about my professional future in and continued employment at the company. I back off.
I realize that it will be easy for me to be the fall guy in this event. That I may well be blamed for not clarifying the "X" situation. And the result being that it will cost my employer extra money (if we do "X") or else lead to ill will between my employer and the customer (if they have to do "X"). Either way I could "take the fall." But I don't see any way to avoid this -- and I'm curious to see how the situation will unfold. More curious than frightened or cowed.
There is some interruption in my dreaming -- perhaps I almost wake up or something -- and when I return to dreaming, I see a small metal frame that is holding onto a baby doll's head. And a hand comes in from the left side of the "scene" and removes the head from the frame. This may be totally unconnected to the "story" of the first dream, but I thought I would mention it.
Saturday, December 15, 2018
Tears
Over the last several weeks, I'm finding that I am close to weeping at almost any time. It doesn't take much to "reduce me to tears."
And I recall the wisdom of that psychologist in Toronto back in 1970 (or thereabouts...) who pointed out the considerable difference between crying and weeping: you cry in times of pain, sadness, feelings of loneliness, and the like. You weep when you are simply overcome with emotion. And that's what I've been doing.
I feel that my emotions, my sensitivity to people and events around me, are closer to "the surface" than they have been. That my defenses are lowered. My openness to emotion is... well, more open.
And that's a good thing. I think I would miss this openness if it weren't somehow presented to the "everyday" me. And I welcome this.
My feeling is that it lines up with my newly re-found ability to remember dreams and wherewithal to write them down.
It's time for a major shift and much in my life is readying itself for that to happen.
It's a ticket to Somewhere.
And I recall the wisdom of that psychologist in Toronto back in 1970 (or thereabouts...) who pointed out the considerable difference between crying and weeping: you cry in times of pain, sadness, feelings of loneliness, and the like. You weep when you are simply overcome with emotion. And that's what I've been doing.
I feel that my emotions, my sensitivity to people and events around me, are closer to "the surface" than they have been. That my defenses are lowered. My openness to emotion is... well, more open.
And that's a good thing. I think I would miss this openness if it weren't somehow presented to the "everyday" me. And I welcome this.
My feeling is that it lines up with my newly re-found ability to remember dreams and wherewithal to write them down.
It's time for a major shift and much in my life is readying itself for that to happen.
It's a ticket to Somewhere.
Wednesday, December 12, 2018
Bad Dreams 08 -- Morning of 12/12/18
In my dream, I start off outside a (college?/high school?) classroom building. It's a brick building located slightly uphill from where I'm standing. (I'm outside the building at the start of the dream.)
As I look up at the building, I see, in a window in an upper floor, a solitary light. Maybe it's a candle -- either wax or electric. It's daytime, but the light is easy to see anyway. I don't see anything else interesting about the building, but the light is of serious interest.
I am standing on the upper floor looking at the light, which is right in front of me -- sitting on a pedestal. I can clearly see out the window to roughly where I was standing when the dream started. Green grass and some trees.
There is a rectangular cover over the light -- either glass or plastic, I don't know. And that cover is somehow lifted away from me so that the light is now within easy reach. I realize that I am part of something of a conspiracy to take an electric module out from inside the pedestal. I understand that would be easy to do. (But I don't recall actually doing it!)
Time shift alert!
I am standing at the bottom of a wide staircase, on which many people are walking up or down. I know I should be walking up the stairs to get to where the light is and take the module. I feel good and confident in getting to the light and taking the module to where the conspirators want it to be. Piece of cake.
So I start to act a bit goofy -- showing off for the girls around me. I am failing miserably at trying to impress anybody with my antics. Everyone who is paying any attention to me has a look of distaste, concern, or mild fear. I try harder and nearly lose my balance and fall over.
I wake up.
As I look up at the building, I see, in a window in an upper floor, a solitary light. Maybe it's a candle -- either wax or electric. It's daytime, but the light is easy to see anyway. I don't see anything else interesting about the building, but the light is of serious interest.
I am standing on the upper floor looking at the light, which is right in front of me -- sitting on a pedestal. I can clearly see out the window to roughly where I was standing when the dream started. Green grass and some trees.
There is a rectangular cover over the light -- either glass or plastic, I don't know. And that cover is somehow lifted away from me so that the light is now within easy reach. I realize that I am part of something of a conspiracy to take an electric module out from inside the pedestal. I understand that would be easy to do. (But I don't recall actually doing it!)
Time shift alert!
I am standing at the bottom of a wide staircase, on which many people are walking up or down. I know I should be walking up the stairs to get to where the light is and take the module. I feel good and confident in getting to the light and taking the module to where the conspirators want it to be. Piece of cake.
So I start to act a bit goofy -- showing off for the girls around me. I am failing miserably at trying to impress anybody with my antics. Everyone who is paying any attention to me has a look of distaste, concern, or mild fear. I try harder and nearly lose my balance and fall over.
I wake up.
Bad Dreams 07 -- Morning of 12/10/18
An abbreviated dream:
I had a dream this morning before this one, but didn't have the wherewithal to write anything down about it. I went back to sleep and had this one:
I'm in my car and driving slowly through a parking lot. The ground is just bare earth -- no asphalt -- the parking places are not lined off, and one parks with front or back of car close to trees and bushes. There are a considerable number of cars already parked, and I'm looking for an available space for me.
I think I see a parking spot off to my right and slightly ahead. As I get closer, I realize that I would have needed a special sticker to park there, so I have to keep on looking. I drive a bit farther.
Then, I remember that I have a sticker in my pocket. It's stuck to a yellow piece of paper roughly six inches by three inches. The sticker itself is white, so it doesn't show up that easily against the yellow paper.
I realize that sticker is exactly the one I would need to gain access to a number of parking spaces, and that makes me very happy.
I wake up.
I had a dream this morning before this one, but didn't have the wherewithal to write anything down about it. I went back to sleep and had this one:
I'm in my car and driving slowly through a parking lot. The ground is just bare earth -- no asphalt -- the parking places are not lined off, and one parks with front or back of car close to trees and bushes. There are a considerable number of cars already parked, and I'm looking for an available space for me.
I think I see a parking spot off to my right and slightly ahead. As I get closer, I realize that I would have needed a special sticker to park there, so I have to keep on looking. I drive a bit farther.
Then, I remember that I have a sticker in my pocket. It's stuck to a yellow piece of paper roughly six inches by three inches. The sticker itself is white, so it doesn't show up that easily against the yellow paper.
I realize that sticker is exactly the one I would need to gain access to a number of parking spaces, and that makes me very happy.
I wake up.
Saturday, December 8, 2018
Bad Dreams 06 -- What's happening
So I've been having these very vivid dreams lately. Over the last several weeks. At the end of some of them, I'm awake enough that I can make a few notes as to the content of the dream and then try to get back to sleep. Which normally takes 60 to 90 minutes. Then, when I'm fully awake, I can use the notes to recreate the dream with a pretty good level of detail. And those are the dreams that I've posted in this blog.
But some mornings, I wake up knowing that I've had one or more equally "realistic" dreams, but simply didn't wake up enough to write them down. And I have only the most vague notion as to what the dreams were all about. I may well have had more of them than dreams that I have documented.
I'm guessing that, at some unconscious level, the work I've been doing for The School of the Spirit has caused this "awakening" of my dreaming. I don't mind the dreams -- I think I understand the nature of dreaming enough to recognize that any and all dreams may have insights/information/messages that the Deeper Levels of Self are trying to pass along to the fully conscious me. And that's a good thing.
As a matter of fact, I hope the dreams continue. I can "feel" that I'm changing inside in a good way.
BTW, I titled my first dream description here "Bad Dream 01," because it was unsettling. But now I'm more comfortable with the process. It's okay. Let it flow.
But some mornings, I wake up knowing that I've had one or more equally "realistic" dreams, but simply didn't wake up enough to write them down. And I have only the most vague notion as to what the dreams were all about. I may well have had more of them than dreams that I have documented.
I'm guessing that, at some unconscious level, the work I've been doing for The School of the Spirit has caused this "awakening" of my dreaming. I don't mind the dreams -- I think I understand the nature of dreaming enough to recognize that any and all dreams may have insights/information/messages that the Deeper Levels of Self are trying to pass along to the fully conscious me. And that's a good thing.
As a matter of fact, I hope the dreams continue. I can "feel" that I'm changing inside in a good way.
BTW, I titled my first dream description here "Bad Dream 01," because it was unsettling. But now I'm more comfortable with the process. It's okay. Let it flow.
Thursday, December 6, 2018
Bad Dreams 05A -- Morning of 12/6/18
After writing up notes on Bad Dream 5, I went back to be and went back to sleep. (Bed sox are a huge help here!)
And what I encountered was a rash of quickie half-dreams -- maybe 4 or 5 -- that came in rapid succession. I think I woke up briefly, interrupting the dream as it unfolded -- and did this again and again.
They were all interesting. None of them seemed especially dangerous or upsetting, and I'm kind of sorry that I didn't have a chance to experience fully each and every one of them.
But since BD 5 had wound up so late, I guess I was coming up out of REM sleep, getting ready for my normal first wake-up time, which is around 5:00.
It's interesting that this should unfold this morning, since I got to sleep last night particularly early -- probably by 8:30 or 8:45. You might have thought that the nighttime "schedule" would have shifted to an earlier time or stayed the same, but it seems to have shifted to a later time.
And what I encountered was a rash of quickie half-dreams -- maybe 4 or 5 -- that came in rapid succession. I think I woke up briefly, interrupting the dream as it unfolded -- and did this again and again.
They were all interesting. None of them seemed especially dangerous or upsetting, and I'm kind of sorry that I didn't have a chance to experience fully each and every one of them.
But since BD 5 had wound up so late, I guess I was coming up out of REM sleep, getting ready for my normal first wake-up time, which is around 5:00.
It's interesting that this should unfold this morning, since I got to sleep last night particularly early -- probably by 8:30 or 8:45. You might have thought that the nighttime "schedule" would have shifted to an earlier time or stayed the same, but it seems to have shifted to a later time.
Bad Dreams 05 -- Morning of 12/6/18
(I found it interesting that this dream seems to have taken place at roughly 4:30 AM, while previous BD's took place around 2:00 AM. Just sayin')
In my dream, I am in a classroom with others. Everyone seems to be an adult, but we are somehow acting like we were still school-age.
People are walking around a bit, chatting. I'm not certain whether we've actually been given an assignment that we're all shirking at the moment or whether we're waiting for the Instructor.
Dick Rainer starts walking my way and I hear his voice over the cacophony that currently exists. He asks me if I had done [can't make out what it is that he's asking me about...] but since I can't understand the word and I don't recall having done anything about which Dick would have any interest or involvement, I tell him "No." He smirks at me and says "You will." He fades into the background.
I feel I need to visit the bathroom to urinate and, since there doesn't seem to be any plan or program taking place -- and therefore no one to ask if I can leave the room -- I exit the classroom.
The hallway looks like the classical school hallway with terrazzo flooring, cinderblock walls, recessed lighting in the drop ceiling. I don't know which way to go, so I pick a direction (left from the classroom door, I think) and start walking. I turn a corner to find another similar hallway and walk its length, looking at the doors, hoping to see a "Boys" or "Men" sign posted on a door. No luck.
I continue walking and make several more turns. Always the same décor. Once or twice, I see glass paneling on the right showing staircases. From the view out the outside windows, I can see that I'm on an upper floor. I squelch the idea of going upstairs or downstairs and continue walking the hallways. I pass a sign on a door that says "Girls," and suppress the notion of knocking loudly on the door to see if someone is in the Girls bathroom -- and if there isn't, using the facilities myself. I continue walking.
At the end of one hallway a different kind of door leads into an office complex with carpet on the floor, a number of separate offices around a central area that is clearly there for secretarial personnel and a receptionist. I know I don't belong there and might get in trouble if someone there notices me, so I turn around and go back into the hallway.
Somehow, I find my way back to the classroom where my dream started -- and am surprised how easy it was to get back there. When I walk in, small groups of "students" each have a gray cardboard box with something inside. I know which group is mine, so I walk over to it just as they are opening our box. There is dead vegetation -- leaves, small branches, etc. -- that someone in the group starts pulling out. All the vegetation comes out as a bunch. Nestled within the vegetation is a snake -- beautiful sky-blue scales with a white underside. I understand that the snake is not dangerous, although some members of the "class" are clearly anxious and fearful of getting too close to it. The snake is roughly 3 1/2 feet long. It's being held by a male member of my group -- roughly halfway down the snake's body. It is moving gently, bending this way and that. And watching the snake, I understand that the bending is necessary for the snake to remain perfectly upright. If the snake were to stretch out perfectly straight, it would likely roll over on its side. Not good.
I feel my hands getting ready to handle the snake. I'm a bit anxious -- as much that I don't hurt the snake as that I might be in some kind of danger. So I feel my hands gently holding the air and allowing my imaginary snake to bend left and right as it feels it should. I look forward to holding the snake.
_________________________________
When I ask myself "Why Dick Rainer?" the only thing I can think of -- and thought of quickly -- was that Dick has been struggling with excessive drinking and has had trouble with the law as a result. And I find myself imbibing more than is healthy for me...
Snakes/apples/sin/alcohol? Um, maybe...
In my dream, I am in a classroom with others. Everyone seems to be an adult, but we are somehow acting like we were still school-age.
People are walking around a bit, chatting. I'm not certain whether we've actually been given an assignment that we're all shirking at the moment or whether we're waiting for the Instructor.
Dick Rainer starts walking my way and I hear his voice over the cacophony that currently exists. He asks me if I had done [can't make out what it is that he's asking me about...] but since I can't understand the word and I don't recall having done anything about which Dick would have any interest or involvement, I tell him "No." He smirks at me and says "You will." He fades into the background.
I feel I need to visit the bathroom to urinate and, since there doesn't seem to be any plan or program taking place -- and therefore no one to ask if I can leave the room -- I exit the classroom.
The hallway looks like the classical school hallway with terrazzo flooring, cinderblock walls, recessed lighting in the drop ceiling. I don't know which way to go, so I pick a direction (left from the classroom door, I think) and start walking. I turn a corner to find another similar hallway and walk its length, looking at the doors, hoping to see a "Boys" or "Men" sign posted on a door. No luck.
I continue walking and make several more turns. Always the same décor. Once or twice, I see glass paneling on the right showing staircases. From the view out the outside windows, I can see that I'm on an upper floor. I squelch the idea of going upstairs or downstairs and continue walking the hallways. I pass a sign on a door that says "Girls," and suppress the notion of knocking loudly on the door to see if someone is in the Girls bathroom -- and if there isn't, using the facilities myself. I continue walking.
At the end of one hallway a different kind of door leads into an office complex with carpet on the floor, a number of separate offices around a central area that is clearly there for secretarial personnel and a receptionist. I know I don't belong there and might get in trouble if someone there notices me, so I turn around and go back into the hallway.
Somehow, I find my way back to the classroom where my dream started -- and am surprised how easy it was to get back there. When I walk in, small groups of "students" each have a gray cardboard box with something inside. I know which group is mine, so I walk over to it just as they are opening our box. There is dead vegetation -- leaves, small branches, etc. -- that someone in the group starts pulling out. All the vegetation comes out as a bunch. Nestled within the vegetation is a snake -- beautiful sky-blue scales with a white underside. I understand that the snake is not dangerous, although some members of the "class" are clearly anxious and fearful of getting too close to it. The snake is roughly 3 1/2 feet long. It's being held by a male member of my group -- roughly halfway down the snake's body. It is moving gently, bending this way and that. And watching the snake, I understand that the bending is necessary for the snake to remain perfectly upright. If the snake were to stretch out perfectly straight, it would likely roll over on its side. Not good.
I feel my hands getting ready to handle the snake. I'm a bit anxious -- as much that I don't hurt the snake as that I might be in some kind of danger. So I feel my hands gently holding the air and allowing my imaginary snake to bend left and right as it feels it should. I look forward to holding the snake.
_________________________________
When I ask myself "Why Dick Rainer?" the only thing I can think of -- and thought of quickly -- was that Dick has been struggling with excessive drinking and has had trouble with the law as a result. And I find myself imbibing more than is healthy for me...
Snakes/apples/sin/alcohol? Um, maybe...
God of Groundhog Day
That would be "Groundhog Day" the movie.
In the film, Phil Connor has a considerable list of changes that he needs to make to escape from living February 2nd over and over. It's not given to him that this learning is what he needs to do. He just does it as he becomes increasingly aware of things like civil conduct, care for others, appreciation of the gifts he has and the friends he might make, what true love (as opposed to lust) consists of, and the fact that he is not the Center of the Universe -- not even his own Universe. He makes it.
As I proceed into the exercises of The School of the Spirit, I sense that little things are happening around me and to me that... oh, just don't seem perfectly "normal" or "usual" or "average." Get a luck break here, escape a close call there, find something that I didn't know I had/wanted/needed. Get "called" to say something nice, something gentle, something supportive when I don't think I would have done so a year ago.
So unfortunately, there are two reasonable explanations (define "reasonable" if you dare!) for this:
-- One, life is actually proceeding "normally" (see above) and I'm just sensing it, seeing it differently. Thinking about how God might be planting these things in front of me to get my attention. But as I think about this, I recall that Phil Connor never is given any explanation as to why he re-lived 2/2 again and again. But as you watch the movie every 2/2 as we do, you see the changes in his behavior gradually take place, iteration after iteration. His behavior at the Groundhog Day Ball is splendid.
-- Two, God may actually be planting these things in front of me. Trying to get my attention. Trying to show me a better way.
Oh, and exactly why would two reasonable explanations be a problem? Hmmm?
Aren't I the guy who has lately become enamored with Non-Dualism?
In the film, Phil Connor has a considerable list of changes that he needs to make to escape from living February 2nd over and over. It's not given to him that this learning is what he needs to do. He just does it as he becomes increasingly aware of things like civil conduct, care for others, appreciation of the gifts he has and the friends he might make, what true love (as opposed to lust) consists of, and the fact that he is not the Center of the Universe -- not even his own Universe. He makes it.
As I proceed into the exercises of The School of the Spirit, I sense that little things are happening around me and to me that... oh, just don't seem perfectly "normal" or "usual" or "average." Get a luck break here, escape a close call there, find something that I didn't know I had/wanted/needed. Get "called" to say something nice, something gentle, something supportive when I don't think I would have done so a year ago.
So unfortunately, there are two reasonable explanations (define "reasonable" if you dare!) for this:
-- One, life is actually proceeding "normally" (see above) and I'm just sensing it, seeing it differently. Thinking about how God might be planting these things in front of me to get my attention. But as I think about this, I recall that Phil Connor never is given any explanation as to why he re-lived 2/2 again and again. But as you watch the movie every 2/2 as we do, you see the changes in his behavior gradually take place, iteration after iteration. His behavior at the Groundhog Day Ball is splendid.
-- Two, God may actually be planting these things in front of me. Trying to get my attention. Trying to show me a better way.
Oh, and exactly why would two reasonable explanations be a problem? Hmmm?
Aren't I the guy who has lately become enamored with Non-Dualism?
Tuesday, December 4, 2018
Bad Dreams 04 -- Morning of 12/4/18
In my dream, Deb and I are off somewhere -- I think doing shopping -- but I find myself in some need to get some cash. Not a desperate need, but it would be helpful to replenish my in-pocket cash supply.
The building where we are is clean enough, but feels like some kind of building loaded with big mechanical stuff -- much of it located overhead. The light is perfectly adequate here, but aloft, it's hard to make out the details of the machinery. We can walk around comfortably, but the machinery is never far away. Overhead and on either side.
I guess I tried using my credit card in an ATM or something similar to get the cash I wanted, but something happens about this and the cash is not forthcoming. Something's not working. This requires me to talk to someone who's operating in an official capacity.
The guy (now known as "Guy 1") is a big man in a dark suit. I explain the situation to him and he frowns and tells me that I have to take the situation up with his boss (now known as "Guy 2").
He and I walk some distance through the building and find Guy 2 in his office. (Deb seems to have disappeared by this time.) As opposed to Guy 1, this fellow is slender, younger, looks as if he keeps himself fit, and he takes too much time making sure his hair is perfect. His suit fits beautifully and is immaculate.
As we walk into Guy 2's office, he is sitting at a horribly garish electric "piano." It's covered with gingerbread decorations, and the keyboard is almost difficult to find under all the decorations. He is plinking out a tune with one finger -- I think it might have been "Here Comes the Bride."
He gets up from the piano and turns around to face us. He gives me this ingratiating (read "smarmy") smile and holds out his hand. He asks me "What can I do for you?" or something similar.
Guy 1 explains the situation to Guy 2. Guy 2 nods and smiles again as if he understands exactly what's happened and how he (Guy 2) can remedy the situation.
As Guy 2 explains to me, all I have to do is X, which sounds pretty simple and not completely out of the question for me to do. Then he can do his part to fix the problem. But the tone in his voice, his facial expressions make it clear to me that he also expects a considerable expression of gratitude to him (Guy 2) coming from me as and after he completes the things he has to do to enable me to get my money.
I find this objectionable and express somehow to him that I have no intention of showing that level of gratitude and thanks. I feel he should simply do this thing to help me just because he should do this thing. It's inappropriate for him to expect groveling from me.
I tell him if that's the basis for him doing what he needs to do, then just don't bother. He's annoyed and tries to convince me that he's wonderful for granting me this favor.
Now, I don't absolutely need the cash. It would be nice to have but nothing more. So I stand firm. He keeps trying to get some expression of gratitude from me -- again and again. When I'm convinced that he's just not going to do his thing unless I surrender, I walk out.
__________________________________
WHAT DOES ALL THIS MEAN?
Unlike my previous "Bad Dreams" (which I continue not to understand), I fairly quickly applied an interpretation to the dream:
Guy 2 is the God that I keep reading about in the assigned readings from The School of the Spirit. So many writers in these readings gush (sorry, tough word, but that's where I'm at just now) at the manifold blessings that God has bestowed on them. And that they are delighted to have surrendered to him (God) and want to live always in the shelter of His protective shadow. And that their sole ambition in life is to do His will.
(Historical note: the time during which I write this, I am working to construct a framework for my God. My understanding of God. I'm stuck at the moment between an all-covering/understanding/powerful/demanding God and the Tao. Neither image settles well within me anymore.
So I am "reading" my dream as a confrontation with that all-everything God, and reading Guy 1 as being a minister or priest or some such who is a disciple to that God.
It makes sense to me that Deb should disappear from the dream when she does, since my quest, my journey is obviously a one-person trip.
Given the clarity of feeling I have about this interpretation, I'm wondering if my previous Bad Dreams were something of a warm-up exercise, and that future Bad Dream (which I'm pretty sure are coming!) will maintain that clarity.
The building where we are is clean enough, but feels like some kind of building loaded with big mechanical stuff -- much of it located overhead. The light is perfectly adequate here, but aloft, it's hard to make out the details of the machinery. We can walk around comfortably, but the machinery is never far away. Overhead and on either side.
I guess I tried using my credit card in an ATM or something similar to get the cash I wanted, but something happens about this and the cash is not forthcoming. Something's not working. This requires me to talk to someone who's operating in an official capacity.
The guy (now known as "Guy 1") is a big man in a dark suit. I explain the situation to him and he frowns and tells me that I have to take the situation up with his boss (now known as "Guy 2").
He and I walk some distance through the building and find Guy 2 in his office. (Deb seems to have disappeared by this time.) As opposed to Guy 1, this fellow is slender, younger, looks as if he keeps himself fit, and he takes too much time making sure his hair is perfect. His suit fits beautifully and is immaculate.
As we walk into Guy 2's office, he is sitting at a horribly garish electric "piano." It's covered with gingerbread decorations, and the keyboard is almost difficult to find under all the decorations. He is plinking out a tune with one finger -- I think it might have been "Here Comes the Bride."
He gets up from the piano and turns around to face us. He gives me this ingratiating (read "smarmy") smile and holds out his hand. He asks me "What can I do for you?" or something similar.
Guy 1 explains the situation to Guy 2. Guy 2 nods and smiles again as if he understands exactly what's happened and how he (Guy 2) can remedy the situation.
As Guy 2 explains to me, all I have to do is X, which sounds pretty simple and not completely out of the question for me to do. Then he can do his part to fix the problem. But the tone in his voice, his facial expressions make it clear to me that he also expects a considerable expression of gratitude to him (Guy 2) coming from me as and after he completes the things he has to do to enable me to get my money.
I find this objectionable and express somehow to him that I have no intention of showing that level of gratitude and thanks. I feel he should simply do this thing to help me just because he should do this thing. It's inappropriate for him to expect groveling from me.
I tell him if that's the basis for him doing what he needs to do, then just don't bother. He's annoyed and tries to convince me that he's wonderful for granting me this favor.
Now, I don't absolutely need the cash. It would be nice to have but nothing more. So I stand firm. He keeps trying to get some expression of gratitude from me -- again and again. When I'm convinced that he's just not going to do his thing unless I surrender, I walk out.
__________________________________
WHAT DOES ALL THIS MEAN?
Unlike my previous "Bad Dreams" (which I continue not to understand), I fairly quickly applied an interpretation to the dream:
Guy 2 is the God that I keep reading about in the assigned readings from The School of the Spirit. So many writers in these readings gush (sorry, tough word, but that's where I'm at just now) at the manifold blessings that God has bestowed on them. And that they are delighted to have surrendered to him (God) and want to live always in the shelter of His protective shadow. And that their sole ambition in life is to do His will.
(Historical note: the time during which I write this, I am working to construct a framework for my God. My understanding of God. I'm stuck at the moment between an all-covering/understanding/powerful/demanding God and the Tao. Neither image settles well within me anymore.
So I am "reading" my dream as a confrontation with that all-everything God, and reading Guy 1 as being a minister or priest or some such who is a disciple to that God.
It makes sense to me that Deb should disappear from the dream when she does, since my quest, my journey is obviously a one-person trip.
Given the clarity of feeling I have about this interpretation, I'm wondering if my previous Bad Dreams were something of a warm-up exercise, and that future Bad Dream (which I'm pretty sure are coming!) will maintain that clarity.
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