In my dream, I am waiting in an office. I know it's a lawyer's office, but it seems rather cluttered and disorganized. The lawyer is there -- and he's waiting too. There is a third person in the room -- a woman who is related somehow to the person for whom we're all waiting. My notes say that she was his wife, but I'm not so sure about that... She's explaining why this person is late, but neither the lawyer nor me cares that much. These things just happen and people get caught up in activities that cause problems for their schedule. We're okay to wait.
The person we're waiting for is someone I knew back in high school. Only somewhat peripherally and it's not clear in the dream what the interaction is that we are trying to instigate. It feels like it's related to what happened back in high school, but it doesn't feel like it's some traumatic event that took place. We're just formalizing and finalizing something.
I leave that room and find that I'm in a hallway that looks very much like a high school hallway. I proceed down the hallway and turn left. Several doors down, I open the door and walk in. I think the same two people are there and it feels again like a cluttered office rather than a classroom. I'm not surprised to see them there.
We continue to wait.
Monday, March 25, 2019
Friday, March 22, 2019
Bad Dream 62 -- Morning of 3/22/19
There's very little "visual" content left of this dream, but I think the ideas in it are important:
I am somewhat involved in moving people from one place to another. I think I have the power to decide who comes along and who has to stay behind.
Much of the sorting of "Who has to stay? Who gets to go?" has already been done, and much of that was pretty easy. Now the hard part begins.
One of the people we're considering (whoever "we" are...) is a journalist of some sort. He's identified as being a Flamethrower -- which means he works to uncover injustice, criminal activity, etc. and then broadcast that information to the world. On one hand, such people are dangerous in part because they don't always get it right and innocent people can be seriously hurt. On the other hand, Flamethrowers have revealed a considerable amount of wrong-doing and a considerable number or wrong-doers. Society needs them.
This particular Flamethrower doesn't seem to care much whether he gets to go or stays -- even though staying could mean serious harm or death. It is what it is.
So it's up to me to decide: does the Flamethrower get to go rather than other people who desperately want to go (because of the valuable service he provides for society at large) or do we leave him here (since he doesn't seem to care one way or the other)?
I am somewhat involved in moving people from one place to another. I think I have the power to decide who comes along and who has to stay behind.
Much of the sorting of "Who has to stay? Who gets to go?" has already been done, and much of that was pretty easy. Now the hard part begins.
One of the people we're considering (whoever "we" are...) is a journalist of some sort. He's identified as being a Flamethrower -- which means he works to uncover injustice, criminal activity, etc. and then broadcast that information to the world. On one hand, such people are dangerous in part because they don't always get it right and innocent people can be seriously hurt. On the other hand, Flamethrowers have revealed a considerable amount of wrong-doing and a considerable number or wrong-doers. Society needs them.
This particular Flamethrower doesn't seem to care much whether he gets to go or stays -- even though staying could mean serious harm or death. It is what it is.
So it's up to me to decide: does the Flamethrower get to go rather than other people who desperately want to go (because of the valuable service he provides for society at large) or do we leave him here (since he doesn't seem to care one way or the other)?
Bad Dream 61 -- Morning of 3/20/19
Fragment of a dream:
Deb knits me a sweater. I don't recall much about the sweater -- so the suggestion is that the dream "means" the knitting rather than the product of the knitting.
ANALYSIS:
The "aha" moment of the dream is supported by the fact that Deb doesn't knit but my mother did -- and was very good at it and would present knitted sweaters and other clothing items that she had made to family members.
Superficially, the relationship between the two members of a marriage without kids is pretty simple. It's a partnership where you do these things and I do those things. We share.
But I think the dream was intended to help me see the complexity that lies close beneath that superficial surface. For me, Deb is my best friend, my lover, my closest living relative, my business partner, my housemate and on and on. And in each of those roles, I relate to her differently. And act differently whether I know it or not.
And the reverse is also true:
And the dream suggests that Deb is acting as my mother as well as my wife. And since we don't have kids, she treats and takes care of me from time to time as if I were her son. And other times when she treats me like I am her Dad (who passed away several decades ago). Nothing at all strange or unusual here, but certainly something about which one should be aware.
So if there's useful information here, it would seem to be that I can be more aware of these constantly changing roles and that awareness will help me to respond more appropriately -- to my benefit, Deb's benefit, and the benefit of the relationship.
And the next level down in the "lesson" of the dream is that the nature of these relationships are now and will continue to be constantly changing and enter new phases as our needs and wants for each other change -- so that awareness becomes increasingly important.
Deb knits me a sweater. I don't recall much about the sweater -- so the suggestion is that the dream "means" the knitting rather than the product of the knitting.
ANALYSIS:
The "aha" moment of the dream is supported by the fact that Deb doesn't knit but my mother did -- and was very good at it and would present knitted sweaters and other clothing items that she had made to family members.
Superficially, the relationship between the two members of a marriage without kids is pretty simple. It's a partnership where you do these things and I do those things. We share.
But I think the dream was intended to help me see the complexity that lies close beneath that superficial surface. For me, Deb is my best friend, my lover, my closest living relative, my business partner, my housemate and on and on. And in each of those roles, I relate to her differently. And act differently whether I know it or not.
And the reverse is also true:
And the dream suggests that Deb is acting as my mother as well as my wife. And since we don't have kids, she treats and takes care of me from time to time as if I were her son. And other times when she treats me like I am her Dad (who passed away several decades ago). Nothing at all strange or unusual here, but certainly something about which one should be aware.
So if there's useful information here, it would seem to be that I can be more aware of these constantly changing roles and that awareness will help me to respond more appropriately -- to my benefit, Deb's benefit, and the benefit of the relationship.
And the next level down in the "lesson" of the dream is that the nature of these relationships are now and will continue to be constantly changing and enter new phases as our needs and wants for each other change -- so that awareness becomes increasingly important.
Thursday, March 21, 2019
Bad Dream 60 -- Morning of 3/21/19
In my dream, I am driving along a limited-access highway with light traffic. I look up and to the right and there's a hill. Up on the hill is a dilapidated old house -- seemingly abandoned and falling apart. There are, I think windows missing and the wooden siding is falling off in a number of places.
But the house clearly -- at one time -- was pretty magnificent. Just the overall size and the architectural features that are still apparent. And that was most likely back before this road went in.
The words go through my dream "Someone bought it just to resell it." I wasn't clear on the logic of doing this: it's not the kind of house -- or in the kind of condition -- that you could simply slap on fresh siding, replace a few windows and try to sell it. Flip it, in other words.
My dream shifts and I am in this house. And whomever is looking after it is doing something most strange: the room(s) that I'm in are in splendid shape, and the fixtures and features speak of a major investment. Yeah, but the outside of the building is still deteriorating. I would have though that you'd seal up the holes in the outside as a starting point. (Although from where I am, there's no indication that there's a problem with the outside of the building.)
I am still in the building, but now sharing space with Frank Barch. And -- according to my notes of this morning -- Frank is doing "stupid things." Although we're still in or very near to the house, there is a river flowing right-to-left right in front of us. The water is heavy with brown silt and flowing quickly.
Frank is about to dive into the water, and I'm greatly concerned that the water may not be deep enough and that there may be big rocks close to, but under, the surface. If Frank hits a rock like that, he's likely to break his neck.
And that reminds me immediately of Mary Maguire cautioning me of the same thing when I was diving off a small boat into the Schuylkill River during a party. She called out to me and told me not to dive, and I glared back at her, in essence saying: "After all the troubles you've caused me [which I now understand were responses to what I was doing -- so that she should be held blameless], who do you think you are to tell me not to do this? As if you care about my well being?"
But the house clearly -- at one time -- was pretty magnificent. Just the overall size and the architectural features that are still apparent. And that was most likely back before this road went in.
The words go through my dream "Someone bought it just to resell it." I wasn't clear on the logic of doing this: it's not the kind of house -- or in the kind of condition -- that you could simply slap on fresh siding, replace a few windows and try to sell it. Flip it, in other words.
My dream shifts and I am in this house. And whomever is looking after it is doing something most strange: the room(s) that I'm in are in splendid shape, and the fixtures and features speak of a major investment. Yeah, but the outside of the building is still deteriorating. I would have though that you'd seal up the holes in the outside as a starting point. (Although from where I am, there's no indication that there's a problem with the outside of the building.)
I am still in the building, but now sharing space with Frank Barch. And -- according to my notes of this morning -- Frank is doing "stupid things." Although we're still in or very near to the house, there is a river flowing right-to-left right in front of us. The water is heavy with brown silt and flowing quickly.
Frank is about to dive into the water, and I'm greatly concerned that the water may not be deep enough and that there may be big rocks close to, but under, the surface. If Frank hits a rock like that, he's likely to break his neck.
And that reminds me immediately of Mary Maguire cautioning me of the same thing when I was diving off a small boat into the Schuylkill River during a party. She called out to me and told me not to dive, and I glared back at her, in essence saying: "After all the troubles you've caused me [which I now understand were responses to what I was doing -- so that she should be held blameless], who do you think you are to tell me not to do this? As if you care about my well being?"
Tuesday, March 19, 2019
Bad Dream 59 -- Morning of 3/19/10
In my dream, I'm at Mitch's gym looking our the west-facing windows at the pool of water that almost always lies on the roof of the building next door.
Much to my surprise, there are a considerable number of birds standing next to the pool drinking. (Yesterday, Brian and I saw a pair of turkey buzzards -- or were they vultures? -- on that roof drinking from the pool. The first time we've ever seen that by any bird or other animal.) Birds included (I think) blue jays and cardinals and others of that ilk.
Initially, I was quite pleased to see them. Then I puzzled as to why we'd never seen them before -- after looking at that pond for years. And the ancillary question: would we ever see them again?
I wondered if the birds felt it was okay to drink that water because it was relatively fresh -- not contaminated by the roofing material or other bad chemicals. Then I wondered if the birds could adequately tell whether the water was safe to drink, and were they possibly poisoning themselves?
ANALYSIS: My "aha" analysis of what I saw and felt extended from the birds to the people around me. Specifically, cell phones. We all use our phones regularly and for all sorts of things. We drink in amusement, information, conversations, etc. from our phones. And we do this with little or no consideration about the possible negative effects of being so dependent, so addicted, to our phones. Because at the moment of usage, it seemed to be nothing other than helpful. And dare I say it, necessary? Like water...
Much to my surprise, there are a considerable number of birds standing next to the pool drinking. (Yesterday, Brian and I saw a pair of turkey buzzards -- or were they vultures? -- on that roof drinking from the pool. The first time we've ever seen that by any bird or other animal.) Birds included (I think) blue jays and cardinals and others of that ilk.
Initially, I was quite pleased to see them. Then I puzzled as to why we'd never seen them before -- after looking at that pond for years. And the ancillary question: would we ever see them again?
I wondered if the birds felt it was okay to drink that water because it was relatively fresh -- not contaminated by the roofing material or other bad chemicals. Then I wondered if the birds could adequately tell whether the water was safe to drink, and were they possibly poisoning themselves?
ANALYSIS: My "aha" analysis of what I saw and felt extended from the birds to the people around me. Specifically, cell phones. We all use our phones regularly and for all sorts of things. We drink in amusement, information, conversations, etc. from our phones. And we do this with little or no consideration about the possible negative effects of being so dependent, so addicted, to our phones. Because at the moment of usage, it seemed to be nothing other than helpful. And dare I say it, necessary? Like water...
Sunday, March 17, 2019
Bad Dream 58 -- Morning of 3/17/19
In my dream, I am a Wiseman-type guy in the Kingdom. I am sitting on my somewhat fancy chair when a man brings his daughter -- maybe 3 years old or so -- in to see me. She runs over to me and I pick her up and discover she's light as a feather. The two of us are happy to be together and feel the joy of the other's presence.
As sort of an interlude, I am standing beside a large transparent box in which are a great many black filaments. The box is maybe 3.5 feet on a side and the filaments are maybe 18 to 24 inches long. As I move my hands near the box, the filaments respond and congregate near where my hand is. When I move my hand, the filaments move with it.
Despite the happiness of being who I am and so admired by so many people and the presence of the dad and his daughter, I know that all this goodness will end sometime soon. And many people will be seriously hurt or will die as a result. I do not know how it will happen and I don't know when, either.
And so I maintain a happy exterior while feeling depressed and helpless inside.
As sort of an interlude, I am standing beside a large transparent box in which are a great many black filaments. The box is maybe 3.5 feet on a side and the filaments are maybe 18 to 24 inches long. As I move my hands near the box, the filaments respond and congregate near where my hand is. When I move my hand, the filaments move with it.
Despite the happiness of being who I am and so admired by so many people and the presence of the dad and his daughter, I know that all this goodness will end sometime soon. And many people will be seriously hurt or will die as a result. I do not know how it will happen and I don't know when, either.
And so I maintain a happy exterior while feeling depressed and helpless inside.
Saturday, March 16, 2019
Bad Dream 57 -- Morning of 3/16/19
In my dream, I am walking around in a "park." It's a very large space with frontage on a large body of water (lake? ocean? don't know, but the water itself is quite calm). The air is pleasantly warm and it's sunny, but the sun doesn't glare at any point through the dream.
There are some buildings on this park and gentle "hills," really, just rises and declines on the ground. Lots of grass and well maintained dirt walkways. You could hardly ask for a more pleasant day or location.
There are no amusement rides here and seemingly no special buildings (museum, theater, etc.) but people seem to be happy just walking around on such a lovely day. People tend to be walking in pairs wearing Edwardian-style clothes, but I am by myself. Looking at them is remindful of photos taken during that era.
I don't know why I am so depressed, but the loveliness around me may only increase my feeling of depression. Or perhaps loneliness. I find myself sitting on the grass on a slight rise with the water before me.
I'm concerned that we (whoever "we" are...) arrived on a bus that will be taking us back (to wherever "back" is...) and I don't know when the bus will be leaving. But missing the bus would create a serious transportation problem.
I take out my harmonica and remember how I played years ago -- and the reason I tell myself that I stopped playing. I start playing and the music is lyrical, soaring high into the upper octave of the instrument without missing a single beat or note. I don't think I've ever played that sweetly or that sadly. But the music alleviates to a certain amount the depression that I feel. Regardless of anything else, I can still play and touch someone's heart with my music. And feel a bit wistful that there's no one around to hear me. (The word in my notes at this point is "solace.")
I get up and start walking back to the parking lot. Which means walking between some of the buildings -- all of which are multi-story and look as if they were built many years ago but are still in great shape.
I am hoping that the driver of the bus is still close to the vehicle so that I can ask what time we're leaving. To get to the parking lot, I have to walk out the entry passageway and am concerned for a moment that I might not be able to get back in. But then I remember that I'm wearing a thin plastic strip on my wrist that identifies me as being allowed to go in and out whenever I want.
The dream changes so that I don't leave or get to the parking lot. I never see the bus or chat with the driver.
I am now sitting at a table with two other people. One of them is kind of "in charge," and the other two of us are sitting with our cameras (both DSLR's) on the table. The other camera guy gets up and leaves, taking his camera with him. The other guy says something very complimentary about my camera -- especially in comparison with the other fellow's camera.
I feel good about what he's just said. Justified in having the camera and pleased/proud of it.
But it doesn't touch my feeling of melancholy. And I am still concerned about finding out when the bus is leaving for home (wherever and whatever "home" is...)
(I think there may have been more to the dream, but that's the end of my notes.)
There are some buildings on this park and gentle "hills," really, just rises and declines on the ground. Lots of grass and well maintained dirt walkways. You could hardly ask for a more pleasant day or location.
There are no amusement rides here and seemingly no special buildings (museum, theater, etc.) but people seem to be happy just walking around on such a lovely day. People tend to be walking in pairs wearing Edwardian-style clothes, but I am by myself. Looking at them is remindful of photos taken during that era.
I don't know why I am so depressed, but the loveliness around me may only increase my feeling of depression. Or perhaps loneliness. I find myself sitting on the grass on a slight rise with the water before me.
I'm concerned that we (whoever "we" are...) arrived on a bus that will be taking us back (to wherever "back" is...) and I don't know when the bus will be leaving. But missing the bus would create a serious transportation problem.
I take out my harmonica and remember how I played years ago -- and the reason I tell myself that I stopped playing. I start playing and the music is lyrical, soaring high into the upper octave of the instrument without missing a single beat or note. I don't think I've ever played that sweetly or that sadly. But the music alleviates to a certain amount the depression that I feel. Regardless of anything else, I can still play and touch someone's heart with my music. And feel a bit wistful that there's no one around to hear me. (The word in my notes at this point is "solace.")
I get up and start walking back to the parking lot. Which means walking between some of the buildings -- all of which are multi-story and look as if they were built many years ago but are still in great shape.
I am hoping that the driver of the bus is still close to the vehicle so that I can ask what time we're leaving. To get to the parking lot, I have to walk out the entry passageway and am concerned for a moment that I might not be able to get back in. But then I remember that I'm wearing a thin plastic strip on my wrist that identifies me as being allowed to go in and out whenever I want.
The dream changes so that I don't leave or get to the parking lot. I never see the bus or chat with the driver.
I am now sitting at a table with two other people. One of them is kind of "in charge," and the other two of us are sitting with our cameras (both DSLR's) on the table. The other camera guy gets up and leaves, taking his camera with him. The other guy says something very complimentary about my camera -- especially in comparison with the other fellow's camera.
I feel good about what he's just said. Justified in having the camera and pleased/proud of it.
But it doesn't touch my feeling of melancholy. And I am still concerned about finding out when the bus is leaving for home (wherever and whatever "home" is...)
(I think there may have been more to the dream, but that's the end of my notes.)
Friday, March 15, 2019
Bad Dream 56 -- Morning of 3/15/19
This felt like a Lucent Dream:
In my dream, I'm talking with Martha about her "crashing and burning" in her career of a public high school inner-city teacher.
I don't want her to feel bad about what happened, and am trying to figure out what I might say that might help. What comes to mind is the fact that so many of her students were African-American and that they came from very difficult circumstances. So the realistic chances that paying attention in high school would be beneficial to them might -- in all honesty -- not make much difference.
As I think this, I become the person talking to one of her students about paying attention to his education. I say "Are things better for people [like you]? Absolutely. Are things good enough? Absolutely not. But progress is being made. It's like putting new wheels on an old cart. The cart's the same, but the new wheels can make pushing/pulling it easier." I feel good about saying this and I actually believe it. Whether it has any effect on the young man standing in front of me... I don't know. Maybe it shouldn't because maybe it simply isn't enough of a change.
In my dream, I'm talking with Martha about her "crashing and burning" in her career of a public high school inner-city teacher.
I don't want her to feel bad about what happened, and am trying to figure out what I might say that might help. What comes to mind is the fact that so many of her students were African-American and that they came from very difficult circumstances. So the realistic chances that paying attention in high school would be beneficial to them might -- in all honesty -- not make much difference.
As I think this, I become the person talking to one of her students about paying attention to his education. I say "Are things better for people [like you]? Absolutely. Are things good enough? Absolutely not. But progress is being made. It's like putting new wheels on an old cart. The cart's the same, but the new wheels can make pushing/pulling it easier." I feel good about saying this and I actually believe it. Whether it has any effect on the young man standing in front of me... I don't know. Maybe it shouldn't because maybe it simply isn't enough of a change.
Bad Dream 55 -- Morning of 3/15/19
I don't recall the surrounding circumstances for this, but in my dream, I'm being castigated (or else I'm doing the castigating -- that's not clear in my memory), and the issue is Wasting Time on Useless Activities.
Now, as is usually the case, I feel I'm behind in a variety of venues:
-- the Porch Project
-- my photography -- both taking and processing (I've got 3 SD modules to do!)
-- getting the clutter under control
-- working to get my weight down
-- catching up with my School of the Spirit reading
-- responding to Evelyn's e-mail
-- documenting these dreams???
I feel that the complaining voice is related to these things...
Now, as is usually the case, I feel I'm behind in a variety of venues:
-- the Porch Project
-- my photography -- both taking and processing (I've got 3 SD modules to do!)
-- getting the clutter under control
-- working to get my weight down
-- catching up with my School of the Spirit reading
-- responding to Evelyn's e-mail
-- documenting these dreams???
I feel that the complaining voice is related to these things...
Tuesday, March 12, 2019
Bad Dream 54 -- Morning of 3/12/19
In my dream, Deb and I are at some sort of event. Lots of people sitting down at tables -- and something like 6 or 8 people per table.
Deb points out that Morris Christian is sitting at an adjacent table and as I look over in the direction that Deb is pointing to, I see him. And obviously he sees me and is trying to get my attention.
I wouldn't have known Morris if I had just seen him without Deb identifying who that persons was. Morris' skin is lighter than I remember and his face was softer, thinner, and kinder.
The scene shifts, and now Morris and I are together and -- as far as I can tell -- we're alone together.
(I have a note at this point that says the 3rd party asks us about a person whose name and identity I can't recall. But the dream continues as noted.)
I find myself "confessing" to Morris: I hate my job and most everything that goes with it. I'm good at my job and it's interesting and -- at some level -- quite rewarding, but overall I feel trapped into doing it and it's weighing heavily on me that I'm still doing it.
I can tell that Morris understands this. And after I wake up and remember how Morris had to behave and how he was treated back at Leeds & Northrup, I feel akin to how he must have felt. It was demeaning and soul crushing but still interesting. And however much I hated it, it was necessary that I stay there and do the job.
Deb points out that Morris Christian is sitting at an adjacent table and as I look over in the direction that Deb is pointing to, I see him. And obviously he sees me and is trying to get my attention.
I wouldn't have known Morris if I had just seen him without Deb identifying who that persons was. Morris' skin is lighter than I remember and his face was softer, thinner, and kinder.
The scene shifts, and now Morris and I are together and -- as far as I can tell -- we're alone together.
(I have a note at this point that says the 3rd party asks us about a person whose name and identity I can't recall. But the dream continues as noted.)
I find myself "confessing" to Morris: I hate my job and most everything that goes with it. I'm good at my job and it's interesting and -- at some level -- quite rewarding, but overall I feel trapped into doing it and it's weighing heavily on me that I'm still doing it.
I can tell that Morris understands this. And after I wake up and remember how Morris had to behave and how he was treated back at Leeds & Northrup, I feel akin to how he must have felt. It was demeaning and soul crushing but still interesting. And however much I hated it, it was necessary that I stay there and do the job.
Bad Dream 53 -- Morning of 3/12/19
In my dream, I am watching a movie with an unidentifiable. We have several people around us, but it's a smallish crowd -- not a regular movie theater. The lighting is subdued, but not the almost complete darkness of a regular theater.
It's not a good movie.
We are told (don't know by whom) that there will be "a perceptive change" to the movie. And the movie continues. The movie had a large snake in it and it continues to do so, but the snake has some sort of cover over its length that it didn't have before the announcement.
My unidentifiable friend is not impressed and I agree.
It's not a good movie.
We are told (don't know by whom) that there will be "a perceptive change" to the movie. And the movie continues. The movie had a large snake in it and it continues to do so, but the snake has some sort of cover over its length that it didn't have before the announcement.
My unidentifiable friend is not impressed and I agree.
Monday, March 11, 2019
Bad Dream 52 -- Morning of 3/5/19
I believe this was a lucent dream:
I am standing a the edge of a very deep hole. The ground on which I stand is natural earth, and the hole "feels" like a very natural phenomenon. No one dug it. Like a dormant volcano or huge sinkhole. The sides of the hole are gently curved so that it seems to be weather worn. It's an old hole and the bottom is lost in shadow.
I understand that a person or people are working to climb out of the hole, which is a major accomplishment since the sides are so steep. I feel there might be something that I could do to help the person or people: call out to them, climb down a bit to offer a hand (even though I can't see them because they're still so far down into the hole), go get help or a rope. But I don't do anything. I choose not to do anything.
I am standing a the edge of a very deep hole. The ground on which I stand is natural earth, and the hole "feels" like a very natural phenomenon. No one dug it. Like a dormant volcano or huge sinkhole. The sides of the hole are gently curved so that it seems to be weather worn. It's an old hole and the bottom is lost in shadow.
I understand that a person or people are working to climb out of the hole, which is a major accomplishment since the sides are so steep. I feel there might be something that I could do to help the person or people: call out to them, climb down a bit to offer a hand (even though I can't see them because they're still so far down into the hole), go get help or a rope. But I don't do anything. I choose not to do anything.
Bad Dream 54 -- Morning of 3/11/19
In my dream, I'm working with a number (around 30) kids, teaching them very simple tricks with a single juggling ring. I think there are other instructors. Who are unidentifiables. For the number of kids we have, we don't have nearly enough juggling rings. So the kids are taking turns.
The kids are excited and pleased to be learning these tricks. And they're behaving wonderfully well under the circumstances: no one is "hogging" a ring, but rather passing it along to the next kid in a reasonable amount of time.
We will be doing this exercise again tomorrow with more tricks. And the kids are very happy to hear this. (And I'm hoping to have more juggling rings so the kids can have more hands-on time.)
The kids are excited and pleased to be learning these tricks. And they're behaving wonderfully well under the circumstances: no one is "hogging" a ring, but rather passing it along to the next kid in a reasonable amount of time.
We will be doing this exercise again tomorrow with more tricks. And the kids are very happy to hear this. (And I'm hoping to have more juggling rings so the kids can have more hands-on time.)
Sunday, March 10, 2019
Bad Dream 53 -- Morning of 3/10/19
In my dream, I am back at Hawthorne Elementary School. I'm a grown-up, not a student.
I've spent some considerable time looking for something in the building to no avail. I decide to check upstairs -- on the second floor of this two-story building -- to see if I can find it there. I remember that there is a stairway at this end of the building and decide to use it to get upstairs and continue my search.
I leave the room I'm in and walk across the hallway to the stairway leading up. I find that the stairs only go something less than halfway up -- as if the staircase is simply not finished. The stairs are wooden and nicely finished. The wood is finished in a light blond color. If and when the staircase is finished, the stairs I'm looking at would lead to a landing, turn the corner and then continue running up to the second floor.
The stairs themselves don't seem to be supported by anything. They're simply pressed up against the side wall. No railing either up against the wall or on the open side of the stairs.
I've spent some considerable time looking for something in the building to no avail. I decide to check upstairs -- on the second floor of this two-story building -- to see if I can find it there. I remember that there is a stairway at this end of the building and decide to use it to get upstairs and continue my search.
I leave the room I'm in and walk across the hallway to the stairway leading up. I find that the stairs only go something less than halfway up -- as if the staircase is simply not finished. The stairs are wooden and nicely finished. The wood is finished in a light blond color. If and when the staircase is finished, the stairs I'm looking at would lead to a landing, turn the corner and then continue running up to the second floor.
The stairs themselves don't seem to be supported by anything. They're simply pressed up against the side wall. No railing either up against the wall or on the open side of the stairs.
Saturday, March 9, 2019
Bad Dream 51 -- Morning of 3/5/19
Just a small fragment of a larger dream:
I hear a disembodied voice asking: "What makes you think you're such a hotshot photographer?"
For what it's worth, I'm in the middle of processing photos from several different trips. And I think some of them are of a very high quality, but haven't verified that via processing yet...
I hear a disembodied voice asking: "What makes you think you're such a hotshot photographer?"
For what it's worth, I'm in the middle of processing photos from several different trips. And I think some of them are of a very high quality, but haven't verified that via processing yet...
Bad Dream 50 -- Morning of 3/9/19
In my dream, I am back at 1209 Tupelo. There are numerous people milling around throughout the house. I recognize my brother Warren, but I'm not interacting with him or anyone else. Except I think someone asked me a "How's it going?" kind of question, to which I gave a pro forma response.
I realize I'm hungry, so I walk into the kitchen. As was almost always the case, the kitchen had few choices of anything to eat. There are, I think, a couple of loaves of sliced bread -- and one of them is a nice dark loaf. So I look around for something to put on the bread. And there's nothing available.
I pull a jar of peanut butter down off the shelf and open it. I find that it is empty -- that the sides have been scraped pretty thoroughly.
Warren and an unidentifiable friend re-enter the dream. They're both in their teens. Someone else is talking to them -- and asks them if they've ever been to Europe. Warren says "yes" in a rather casual way. No big deal. The same person then asks them if they've ever been to Africa and Warren says "yes" again. The questioner is astonished.
I realize I'm hungry, so I walk into the kitchen. As was almost always the case, the kitchen had few choices of anything to eat. There are, I think, a couple of loaves of sliced bread -- and one of them is a nice dark loaf. So I look around for something to put on the bread. And there's nothing available.
I pull a jar of peanut butter down off the shelf and open it. I find that it is empty -- that the sides have been scraped pretty thoroughly.
Warren and an unidentifiable friend re-enter the dream. They're both in their teens. Someone else is talking to them -- and asks them if they've ever been to Europe. Warren says "yes" in a rather casual way. No big deal. The same person then asks them if they've ever been to Africa and Warren says "yes" again. The questioner is astonished.
Thursday, March 7, 2019
Bad Dream 49 -- Morning 3/4/19 or so...
Just an image: I am looking at a semi-automatic pistol floating in the air, but aimed away from me. There seems to be some color on the weapon -- I recall it as being yellow trim. It's "floating" in that there are no visible supports to the gun, but it isn't moving either.
But the unusual aspect to the gun is that the frame is bent, so that the grip is twisted slightly to the right. It is still aligned up-and-down with the barrel -- just "pulled" to the right a bit. Maybe 30 degrees or so...
But the unusual aspect to the gun is that the frame is bent, so that the grip is twisted slightly to the right. It is still aligned up-and-down with the barrel -- just "pulled" to the right a bit. Maybe 30 degrees or so...
Bad Dream 48 -- Morning of 3/5/19
Just a term that comes to me from Somewhere Else: "Smash your cameras."
Bad Dream 47 -- Morning of 3/5/19
Fragment: I am walking around the kitchen (not necessarily the 419 kitchen) opening and closing kitchen drawers. I am not necessarily looking for something in particular, but I'm not just browsing either.
I am followed in my walking around by an unidentifiable.
I am followed in my walking around by an unidentifiable.
Sunday, March 3, 2019
Bad Dream 46 -- Morning of 3/3/19
In my dream, I'm being annoyed and frustrated. It has something to do with my Grandfather -- but the dream seemed rather vague about what the issue or issues were.
I am busy making up a bed. It's not that hard to do, but I feel I'm being imposed upon for having to do it. It may be the case that Grandfather is dead and there are issues to be resolved about the consequences of his passage.
Or it may be the case that he's coming to visit.
My note about the dream reads: "What do I do with GP's pillow?"
I seldom feel the frustration and annoyance that I felt in this dream.
I am busy making up a bed. It's not that hard to do, but I feel I'm being imposed upon for having to do it. It may be the case that Grandfather is dead and there are issues to be resolved about the consequences of his passage.
Or it may be the case that he's coming to visit.
My note about the dream reads: "What do I do with GP's pillow?"
I seldom feel the frustration and annoyance that I felt in this dream.
Bad Dream 45 -- Morning of 3/3/19
I only recalled a fraction of the dream when I woke up -- and it's been 7 hours since then. So there's not much left except my note: "A car & surfing."
In my dream, I am extolling the virtues of these two things. How a car allows you to come and go most anywhere whenever you like. And that surfing is another -- more intense -- type of freedom. Being at one with the ocean and tapping into its immense energy without harming anyone or polluting anything.
In my dream, I am extolling the virtues of these two things. How a car allows you to come and go most anywhere whenever you like. And that surfing is another -- more intense -- type of freedom. Being at one with the ocean and tapping into its immense energy without harming anyone or polluting anything.
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