Wednesday, February 3, 2021

Bad Dream 137 -- Morning of 2/3/21

In my dream, I am driving around somewhat aimlessly.  Deb is off someplace doing something and I'm just trying to find a way to do something interesting and maybe constructive. 

After driving through a small town of not-very-interesting buildings, I find myself driving past a large building that turns out to be a rather modern high school.  For reasons that are not clear to me, I turn into the parking lot with the intention of finding out more about the building.  The parking lots (there are at least two of them) are remarkably small and have grass growing right up to the asphalt.  No curbing.  This is somewhat surprising, as the appearance of the building suggests that the lots should be bigger and more completely made (i.e., curbing and lines for individual parking spaces).  There are a few cars in the lot, and considerable open spaces as well.  

I get out of the car to prowl around the building, feeling there's no way I will be able to enter.  And I'm surprised when I see a guy wearing a suit open one of the side doors and walk out.  I don't remember hearing any "click" sounds as he left, suggesting that the door is unlocked.  So I walk over to the door and, surprisingly, pull the door open and walk inside.  

Walking around a little bit confirms that this is a high school -- and that the building, while not being terribly new and "modern" has been well kept.  The hallways are, unsurprisingly, well polished terrazzo.  I continue to walk, and find myself walking past an enormous and well kept and well lighted gym.  As I peek inside, I can hear some voices, suggesting that there are a few people in there.  But I can't see anyone and can't really tell what the people whom I'm hearing are doing.  That is, I can't hear any balls bouncing or people calling loudly to teammates.  I continue walking past the gym.  

The next thing I "see" is a glass enclosed room, with a hardwood floor.  A young woman is in there, striking a ball towards the "front wall."  Her racquet is shaped like a squash racquet and the ball looks to also be a squash ball.  She's very intent on her shot, but I can't see any opponent on the court.  Also, the shape of the court is all wrong for squash.  It's square and maybe 18 feet on a side.  I think that the size and shape of the court simply allows too many shots that an opponent couldn't retrieve.  Part of me wants to stay and watch, but (I think) I don't want to be a distraction to the young lady's game.  In any case, I keep walking.  

I next pass a smaller gym space, and just inside the door, there's a teenage boy on a rowing machine -- one with oar handles that pivot rather than a single "T" bar to pull.  The young man is as intense as the squash player.  And, as before, I decide not to interrupt.  

 As I continue walking, I pass a man in a suit who's holding a small white disk.  He's talking to himself (or on a cell phone) as he examines the disk.  He says something like: "Yeah it's really quite nice but expensive.  They cost a thousand dollars for ______."  (I'm not sure I heard the amount of disks you could get for a thousand dollars.  If I did, I don't remember anyway.)

I next find myself outside the building.  Exploring had been interesting, but it was time for me to move on.  I walk to the parking lot where I was fairly sure I parked my car, which I'm sure is the one I drive now -- the gray Tiguan.  I don't see it anywhere.  

I walk over to the other parking lot, but don't see the car anywhere there either.  I start to get concerned that my car simply isn't there.   

I wake up.

WHAT THIS ALL MEANS

What occurred to me shortly after I meditated and got out of bed was that the activities that I witnessed were those that I had actually done myself.  I certainly spent considerable time on a squash court years ago.  And I had a sliding-seat rowing shell for years as well.  The gym space that might represent the Turks Head Jugglers practice space.  And the disk that the man was holding might represent a golf ball in "dream language."  And all these activities are pretty much in my past, with the possible exception of golf.  My past -- like my being in high school.

I feel there's more to analyze here (the small town, why the thought about Deb, the small parking lots, etc.) but the above is all I can get at the moment.  

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