Bad Dream 207 - A Special Flute

In my dream, I am holding a special flute.  It's made from wood, much like my collection of Bansuris, but there the comparison stops.

It's a fairly large diameter flute, but not excessively so.  And it's roughly 24 inches long.  It seems to have been carved out of a larger piece, unlike the bamboo of the Bansuris.  

And it has a great many holes up and down the length of the flute.  Obviously, a single person hasn't got enough fingers to cover all the holes, but it's clearly meant to be played by a single person.  One of the holes near the middle is shaped like a whistle that a policeman or football referee would have.  And on further examination, I can see that it can be played from either end.

I'm with someone, who is most likely my sister, and she and I are both rather taken with the flute and trying to figure out how to play it. 

Clearly, whomever made this flute had something very special in mind, and I wish that person were nearby to show me how it is played.  

It is a rather joyful time, being with my sister and having such a wonderful puzzle -- a musical puzzle -- to play with.

(It should be noted that I haven't touched any of my flutes in weeks, and every time I walk past them, I feel a moment of frustration and commitment to get back to playing soon.  But I haven't made it that far for far too long.)

Bad Dream 206 - What's With Dad and Richard?

My Dad was one of the most even-tempered persons I ever knew.  But in my dream, he is clearly agitated and mad at me.  And I can't imagine why.

I don't recall anything in my dream concerning the place where the dream takes place.  Probably indoors somewhere, but no idea where. 

I ask my Dad what the problem is -- and clearly he has difficulty expressing exactly what the problem is.  He kind of starts saying something, then stopping. He does this several times.  Then he finally blurts out "Your brother has something to say to you."  He then sweeps his right hand horizontally across his body and says "Swoosh."  He then looks at me as if that gesture and word combination should explain exactly what the problem is.  

Richard then says something that I don't recall, but he then makes the same gesture and says "Swoosh" just like Dad had done.  Now, both of them look at me expectantly -- as if what their problem is should now be perfectly clear.  And, of course, I have no idea what's going on.

Now, since Richard's efforts to explain have failed, Dad takes over again.  His attitude is now, "Well, if I have to explain this in specific words, here it comes."  He accuses me of splashing water on the Meeting House's kitchen floor and not cleaning up.  (Please note, my Dad wasn't a Quaker and had only visited the West Chester Meeting House once.)

I feel some relief now that the subject has been explained to me.  But I tell both Dad and Richard that I hadn't been in the Meeting House -- much less the kitchen therein -- in well over a year.  Dad hears this and gets an "Oh, yeah.  Like you expect us to believe that?"  And I assure him -- and Richard -- that it's true: I haven't set foot in the Meeting House for a very long time.

Dad seemingly still doesn't believe me, but he moves on to another point of attack (to prove that he's justified in being angry at me).  And that attack is that he is a strong supporter of Donald Trump.  And he and Richard start cheering.

 

Bad Dream 205 - Can I Help Martha?

In my dream, I've been talking to my sister Martha, whom I love dearly.  She is excited to be working on some new music duets (flutes, of course) with a friend, but is looking for a quiet place to practice.  A place that is conducive to the intense practicing that she and her friend want to do.  I get the feeling, but it's not stated precisely that way, that the two of them have a major performance planned -- or maybe an extremely important audition.  But in any case, she feels the two of them need to be at their best.

I am in the room where Martha is currently using for practice, but it's not clear whether she and/or her friend are in the room with me. I can see why Martha considers the space unusable, as the windows look out over a busy street, and the traffic noises are simply unavoidable and probably go into the late evening or early morning.  

For reasons that are not clear, I have control over another apartment-type space.  And that space is occupied at the moment by a guy in his 30's or so.  A bit grungy and not animated to do much of anything, it would seem.  I am now in the presence of that person, and standing just outside the room that, it would seem would be perfect for Martha's use.  

I explain to the guy that I will need him to move out, and he doesn't seem to mind a bit.  He sort of shrugs his shoulders and gives me the impression that he has other places where he can live.  So all that is okay.

The scene shifts a bit, and now the person that I'm talking to is a youngish woman who appears to be struggling somewhat to make ends meet.  (Her clothing, her overall appearance, her mildly haggard look.)  

She knows what it is that I am there to do -- that is, have her move out to allow my sister to move in.  She understands that I have the authority to make her leave if she decides to try and stay.  She smiles weakly, as if in resignation, but I can tell that forcing her to leave would create a major problem for her.  Losing her living space would create considerable hardship on a person who's already loaded with hardships.  

She looks at me as she smiles, almost in supplication as in "please don't do this to me."  But I've already promised the space to Martha and she's excited and preparing to move her practice stuff into the room.  

So I can disappoint someone for whom I care a great deal or create a major problem for someone I barely know.  But I have to choose one of the two.   

Bac Dream 204 - Looking for Mom with a Good Friend

In my dream, I am spending a considerable amount of time with a delightful young woman.  She and I are both in our 30's or thereabouts.  

She is very pretty and has a face that is almost always smiling.  She is about my height, slender, and looks athletic.  She moves quickly and easily in everything she does.  Oh, and she's African-American.

The two of us are at some kind of family gathering -- my family, not hers -- and there is some event or other whereby everyone will be leaving the two of us alone together for a considerable time.  I think overnight.  There is concern on the part of some family members that she and I will use the opportunity to have sex.  When this concern is expressed by a family member, she (my friend) and I look at each other and we know that we are thinking the same thing: We're very fond of each other and have a great deal of fun together, but having sex could endanger the relationship somehow -- and it's simply not worth the risk to our friendship. 

(Thinking about this later, I feel that this decision we made -- silently but together -- brought us closer than having sex could have possibly done.  I also realized that my affection for this lady was two-fold: I thought she was simply a marvelous person to be with for a whole variety of reasons; but also because I felt she understood and celebrated me at a very deep level.)

The scene shifts.

I am now trying to meet up with my Mother -- and my friend is tagging along.  Mom is attending some event entirely different from the one mentioned earlier.  My dream doesn't specify what the event is, but it feels like a Convention, or a Trade Show, or a new shopping venue just opening.  That is, lots of people milling about with too much noise and practically no order to what's going on.  And she (that is, my friend) seems to be amused and delighted at what's going on while giving me lots of space to try and find Mom.   

This event, whatever it is, is taking place in a large, multi-story building that feels like a retail (that is, small shops) space on a very large basis.  

My friend and I wander through and past the throngs and the mini stores that seem to be everywhere.  I am looking for some sort of Front Desk or Business Directory or Concierge, but to no avail.  

Finally, I see what looks very much like a Front Desk and elbow (lightly) my way over to the man standing behind the Desk.  I explain my situation to him and he tells me he can't help... terribly sorry.  My friend now approaches the Desk and asks -- most politely -- if he could provide a comb or brush for her hair.  I look at her hair and it looks perfectly normal and completely fine.  The guy behind the Desk assures her that the Facility is not prepared to offer such amenities.

My friend goes very quiet, approaches the Desk, and leans toward the guy.  She explains -- quietly and politely but with an aura of impending menace -- that comb or brush should be made to appear in short order.  (Reasons as to what the consequences would to not providing a comb or brush are not included in the dream sequence.)  

I am impressed in the manner in which she is handling this situation.  I didn't know she could do this -- but I think it's terrific.  

I think the comb/brush situation gets settled, but the dream doesn't go into detail.  

In my dream, I think that, if the guy can produce hair care products so easily and quickly that he should certainly be able to help me find my Mother.  He looks surprised when I ask him again for help, and he tells me that he had sent a message to my phone with the information I needed.  

I hear some device in my pocket start playing music -- like a cell phone might.  I pull the gadget out of my pocket and discover that it's not a cell phone at all.  I pull out another gadget from the same pocket and find it is (probably) a remote control for a TV.  I pull one or two more gadgets -- all roughly the same size -- out of my pocket and feel satisfied that one of them has the information I'm looking for.

At the end of my dream, I am staring at a handful of gadgets, but feel my search for Mom may be drawing to a conclusion.  

  

Bad Dream 203 -- Problems in a Discussion Group

In my dream, I am participating in a Discussion Group.  We're discussing something about human interactions -- what makes them work well and what impedes them and similar topics.  The conversation is both interesting and enlightening.  

There are maybe a dozen or twenty people taking part and sitting around the tables. 

The tables were we're sitting have been arranged in a rectangle -- longer on two sides than the other two -- with a large empty space in the middle.  Obviously, the tables might be repositioned for a typical classroom setup or a variety of other arrangements.  

There are two or three persons in the group -- all male -- who are obviously more involved with the topic than the rest of the participants. Their comments are directing the flow of the conversation -- and they often seem to be talking to one another rather than to the group in general, but everyone seems to be comfortable about that. 

There is a Monitor for the discussion -- someone who reminds me of Lathey -- who is overseeing the discussion, but adding little or nothing to the actual dialogue.  After several minutes of discussion, the Monitor calls for a break (so people can stretch their legs, visit the bathroom, etc.).  As part of her announcement, she mentions that I will be handling the Monitoring function when the group reconvenes.  I'm completely surprised and this, as I've taken very little active part in the discussions so far.  And it's not clear to me whether she will be returning to the group herself or whether she will be leaving us to carry on without her.  

After she's left and we've reconvened, there's a few moments of "What do we do now?"  Thinking that having been assigned to monitor the group, I should say a few words just to reconnect us to where the discussions had been going.  So I do that. 

But one or more of the aforementioned guys who had been leading and/or directing the conversation take umbrage at this.  I had said little or nothing before the group took a break, and now -- according to him or them -- I'm trying to take over the discussion.  To take the lead that they had been exercising before the break.  

I want to explain to him/them that I'm only trying to get the conversation started up again and tie it in to the pre-break discussion.  Far from trying to take over the group, I am only trying to re-establish the dynamics that were taking place before the break.  

Clearly the guy(s) is/are not accepting this and would appreciate it if I acknowledged my error, apologized, and shut up.   

Bad Dream 202 -- A Training Project Assignment

In my dream, I am working for a company that manufactures equipment for other manufacturing companies.  I am a bit younger and newer than my co-workers, but am accepted as fully competent and trustworthy.

Our company has recently sold a system to another manufacturer -- a system that they will use to produce their own products.  (This situation is quite similar to several major jobs I've had in my working career.)

I am walking through our plant with several co-workers, one of whom is explaining to me what my next assignment will be:  I am to visit our customer and help with the installation and start-up of the above mentioned system.  Specifically, our system uses our software that needs to be adjusted from time to time by the customer.  This is not an unusual situation, as the customer might be using our system to make small red widgets and later adjust the system to make large green widgets.   So the software needed to be changed to accommodate the switch.  

This project will probably take one or two weeks of my being on-site, and -- as mentioned above -- this extended away-from-home time was part and parcel of several jobs I held in real life.  The travel and away time was never a burden to me in my waking life and Deb was always supportive, which was a huge help.

So as we're walking through our plant, my co-worker is just filling me in on some details and making sure I was well prepared to get the job done as completely and quickly as possible.  He and I had visited this customer prior to the shipment of our system, so we knew the people we would be dealing with -- and we felt confident that they would learn our system fairly quickly and use it effectively.  

Late in our walk through our plant, we came across the company junkyard -- which contained bits and pieces of old equipment that was no longer usable and no one had gotten around to getting rid of.  My co-worker picked up several pieces one at a time and told a quick story as to what that piece was and why it either failed or simply was no longer needed or was made incorrectly.  The stories were interesting and compared nicely to the successful assignment on which I was about to embark.

It felt like a very good dream. 

Bad Dream 201 -- Paucity of Hardware

First a description of threaded metal fasteners.  There are well over a hundred different sizes and compositions of these things.  A good hardware store will have 3/4-inch panhead cad-plated metal screws with a thread measurement of 1/4 - 20.  And another bin of the same size in stainless steel and another bin of round headed screws of the same measurement of both materials.  Then another with hex heads. THEN another complete set set of bins of 1-inch metal screws, and another set of 2-inch screws and on and on.  And a really fine hardware store will have the almost identical set of fasteners with a thread size of 1.4 - 24.

Then there's a completely different set of bins for metric sizes.  And another set of bins for wood screws of various sizes, head shape, Phillips head or slotted head, etc. etc. etc.

Such a complete inventory normally takes up at least one complete aisle on both sides.  And for most projects, there is only one bin out of all of these that will have what you need...

In my dream, I am at one of my favorite hardware stores.  I've always liked it in large part because they always seem to have what I needed.  But when I started looking for a particular type screw for a project I was working on, I find that the store has reorganized their shelving -- and that instead of the double aisle of threaded fasteners I was expecting, there was only a single set of bins for sale -- taking up only a couple of feet of aisle space.  So the chances that I would find the screw I was looking for were practically zero.  

I understood that the rearranging had been done to increase profits.  If they could get away with only this single set of bins rather than the 8 or 10 sets of bins they used to have, it would open up a lot of floor space so they could display and sell more hand tools, work gloves, flower pots, grass seed and fertilizer and weed killer, etc. etc.  

I looked feverishly through a couple of the bins and confirmed that they didn't have anything that would work for my project.  I looked around in a few other spots in the store to see if they had anything else that I might want to purchase, but didn't find anything.  

So I understood their motive for making the change but I felt cheated that the store was now practically useless.  And that deprived me of the satisfaction of finding the hardware I needed.

Bad Dream 200 -- Flunking the Final Final

In my dream, I am taking a test in a room with a number of other students.  This is not just a Final Exam, it is the last Exam we will take before graduation.  And the stakes, for me at least, couldn't be higher.  If I pass the exam, I will graduate.  If I fail the exam, I won't.

The exam consists of three parts, and each of them deals with words.  One part, for example, has a list of 15 or so words.  The questions about the words read something like "How many words on the list describe XYZ?" -- when it's obvious to me that none of the words describe XYZ (whatever XYZ was).  Another question was something like "Which words in the list can have their letters rearranged to spell 'ABC'?" when, once again, none of the words in the list can be adjusted to spell that word.

The other two sections of the test are equally obscure.  

So it's not that I can't finish the test because I can't even start it.  

I look around me and see that my fellow students are all busy filling in answers, and my heart sinks.  

As students finish with their test paper, they hand it in to the teacher and smile.  They clearly think they did very well on the test.  They also shake hands with other students who have also completed their test and promise each other they will stay in touch after the graduation ceremony.  

After a while, the only people left in the room are the teacher and me.  He looks at his watch from time to time and appears restless.  It's pretty obvious he has some other engagement -- and that I'm keeping him from attending to that other engagement.  Although he seems to try to avoid doing it, he scowls at me from time to time.  

I think the non-verbal message he's giving me is "Hey, if you haven't finished this test by now, it's obvious that you will never finish the test and you might as well give up and let me get out of here."  As I understand this message I also recall that I never did well in the class -- and didn't care much that I wasn't learning whatever the subject was.  In short, I was not a good student for him and we both know it.  

As time goes on, he gets more and more annoyed -- and finally asks me "Did you know that I have another job besides being a teacher here?"  I shake my head, but I understand that the reason he's so anxious to leave is somehow connected to this other job.  

After while, several State Troopers enter the room.  Clearly they know the teacher and he knows them.  I assume from this that his other job is being a law enforcement officer.  The Troopers are tall and well built and look quite tough -- clearly guys you wouldn't want to mess with.  One of the officers takes his pistol out of its holster and examines it. I don't know whether to take this as a threat or an encouragement to finish up... or just a cop who's bored and hasn't anything else to do.  .But I certainly wasn't going to ask him about his motivation to examine his weapon.  

I now realize that the logic offered by my teacher was perfectly sound.  I wasn't going to finish the test and I wasn't going to pass the test and I wasn't going to graduate either.  But accepting those things gives me a great sense of relief.  I don't have to pretend or be anxious or frightened any more.  I'd been pushing a large rock up a hill and would never reach the top of the hill.  But I was now allowed to step to the side and watch the rock roll all the way back down the hill.

Bad Dream 199 -- Not Buying a Motorcycle

In my dream, I am in a large department store looking to purchase a motorcycle.  There is nothing in the store that differentiates it from dozens of other department stores: clothing, bedding, cosmetics, etc. -- and somehow it doesn't seem unusual to me to be looking for a motorcycle here.  

With me are two young boys.  They are not my children, but I'm supposed to look after them during this excursion.  They are full of energy and curiosity -- a bad combination for keeping kids nearby in a department store!  Throughout the dream, they are wandering off and coming back -- and I give them a stern warning about not doing that again.  They always look contrite, but never stop wandering away.  

I have trouble locating the "Motorcycles for Sale" department, and have to search diligently to find a store employee who may know where to go.  It turns out I have to go to the top floor, but most of the elevators can't take me there.

After some considerable looking around and asking questions, I find myself next to a very fancy elevator that is only supposed to be used by the store executive staff.  But nobody seems to mind if I get on the elevator anyway.  I do that, after collecting the two boys from their latest gallivanting.  

(Somewhere in the middle of this looking around, I find myself completely outside the store near the loading docks.  I had taken an elevator that took me -- unknowingly -- to the basement which was used for supply storage.  I need to walk around the outside of the store to find a way back inside, but I do that successfully.)  

Having arrived at the top floor of the store with the two youngsters in tow, I look around and see a pair of motorcycles on display at a distance from where we're standing.  There are a considerable number of customers moving about, and it takes time to wend my way over to the bikes.  To my dismay, there are only the two bikes I'd seen on the display floor -- and neither one of them looks much like a bike I would want to purchase.  I get the attention of one of the sales clerks, but she claims to have no knowledge of the bikes: that is, if other colors are available, if options are possible, pricing, performance, etc.  She directs me to another clerk who clearly has no time for me at all.  

As I am ready to give up and head home, one of the other clerks comes over and says something like "Thank you so much for coming to our store!  I hope we've answered all your questions about our motorcycle offerings."  I unload on her telling her that the store's employees have proven to be markedly unhelpful and sometimes just plain rude, and certainly un-knowledgeable about motorcycles.  She seems to take my loudly voiced criticism to heart and, although getting this off my chest felt good, I feel sorry for her, as most if not all of my complaints had nothing to do with her.  

I look around for my two young charges and finally see them in the distance.  Then I hear gunshot.  And it's not at all clear whether one of my kids has been shot.  If one of them has, in fact, been injured or killed, I am clearly in a very deep well of trouble.

 

Bad Dream 198 -- Richard's Job and Mine

In my dream, I am in a room with my older brother Richard (who passed away over a decade ago) and the President of the company that Richard worked for.  The company is German and the President speaks English well, but with a considerable German accent.  

I think Richard is quite pleased with this collection of people, as he is looking to "show off" to me how important the company thinks he is.  So he is expecting the President to say positive -- and maybe even flattering -- things about his work and his position. 

I listen to the banter between Richard and the President, and it occurs to me that the President is talking about Richard's past accomplishments... but not anything about Richard's future assignments or position.  And it concern me more and more as the conversation goes on.     

The scene changes and Richard, the President, and I are walking outside -- clearly with some destination in mind, but I think I might know what the destination is but I'm not sure.  

As we walk, the President controls most of the conversation -- which continues to concern Richard in the past but not Richard in the future.  The President summarizes the essence of Richard's career at the company -- how important he has been but nothing about the future.  It finally begins to dawn on Richard what is happening and he confronts the President with a direct question.  I don't recall the exact words of the question, but the gist of it is that Richard wants to know if he has any future with the company.  He has clearly been taken by surprise -- expecting to be lauded for his successes, but now seeing to be on the verge of being let go by the company.   

The President is quietly looking alternatively at Richard and away into open space.  Clearly, the message the President is looking to give to Richard is something along the lines of "Well, you finally figured it out, did you?"  

Richard is now panicked.  He wants to do something to convince the President that he is making a mistake -- that he (Richard) can still be a valuable employee.  

Richard runs ahead of us to an SUV, which was the vehicle we were walking towards.  This SUV was going to take us some place -- and Richard seems to have known what that destination was.  He runs over the far side (that is, the driver's side) of the SUV and wants to open the driver's side door.  But there is a thicket of thorns and underbrush between him and the door and there really is no way to get into the SUV.

Frustrated, Richard goes running off and out of my dream.  He has lost his position in the company that meant so much to him.  And he can no longer "boast" about how important he is to his younger brother (that is, me).  And now he can't even open the SUV door.

I am not terribly worried about finding Richard and making sure he's physically okay.  But I fear that he may never be the same, given the humiliation that he has undergone in this experience. 

The President moves to standing by me and is now telling me about all the good things that the company represents and how I would fit right into what the company is doing now and what it will do in the future.  Part of me is not buying any of what the President is selling, but part of me recognizes the financial opportunities and status associated with working for the company.  

I am wondering if there's a way to use the company the way that the company has used my brother.  Can I get away with that?  Is it worth the effort to try?  How can I face my brother knowing that the company has replace him with me?  

I think I have a hand to play, but I really don't know how to play it.  And I'm concerned that I might wind up just being used.  Like my brother.  

Bad Dream 197 -- The Voices in My Head

This isn't exactly a dream, but it borders on being such and I certainly want to document what is happening.  What I'm describing here has taken place 5 or 6 times in the last month or so -- or maybe more often than that.  But I've never had this happen before:

Almost immediately after I wake up, as I start to "get my bearings" on where I am, etc. I hear a voice.  It's fairly weak, as if it's on the other side of a wall from me.  The sounds of the voice are very articulate, but I can't understand the words.  Maybe it's unintelligible because it's on the other side of a wall, and maybe it's in a foreign language with which I'm not familiar, and maybe it's simply gobbledigook.  I certainly can't tell.  

Normally, the voice is a rich baritone and quite easy to listen to.  Like a news anchor on TV.  But on one or more occasions it's been a woman's voice -- equally pleasant to listen to.  

I hear the voice for something like 10 seconds or less and then it stops.  I think sometimes it tapers off towards the end of the "speech."  

There's nothing threatening about the voice -- and it's pleasant enough that I'd really like to hear the message... if there were one. 

It occurred to me this morning that I have started to wear a face mask when I sleep -- one that just covers my eyes, but does so completely and comfortably.  And I have been using ear plugs for sleep for many years.  So, is this voice connected to sensory deprivation?

I think the voice shows up on mornings when I have a late dream so that the voice might be a continuation of the dream -- while being isolated from the dream in terms of content.  Given that I have kept myself more "open" recently in terms of remembering my dreams, this may be a reason that the dreamworld leaks into my wakeworld via this path.

Ah, I've just Googled "Voices in My Head" which has this as a suggested site: 

https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/types-of-mental-health-problems/hearing-voices/about-hearing-voices/

So maybe it's all okay.  But I have to feel there's a reason that it's just started after inhabiting the planet for over 70 years...

Bad Dream 196 -- Photographing Kevin

For some reason that isn't made clear to me, I have been asked to photograph Kevin Wheeler -- a friend of mine whom I met at Quaker Meeting many years ago.

I'm pretty serious about my photography, and Kevin would seem to be an interesting subject for portraiture.  He has a very distinctive face and a tall and slender anatomy to go along with his fine features.  And we are in an old barn or factory with lots of interesting spaces and lighting/shading opportunities.  

We are just setting up for a couple of shots when someone calls for Kevin to go somewhere else in the building.  Well, that sort of thing happens, and I take the opportunity to double-check the settings on my camera.  

Kevin returns and assumes a lovely pose with interesting lighting.  I'm not sure that I have captured the image I want when someone else calls to Kevin to go yet somewhere else nearby.  

This happens a few more times, and then Kevin, who's always had an impish sense of humor, starts darting off without being called -- just to tease me.  What had been a minor interruption in the photo shoot has become a major inconvenience, and I am clearly more upset about this than Kevin is.  

Okay, I've had enough of this, abandon the project, and walk away.  The weather outside the building has changed, and it is now raining lightly out of a sunshine-bright sky.  The temperature is warm and there are kids running back and forth through the rain laughing loudly -- having a wonderful time.  So now I have new subjects for my photography!

I'm concerned about getting my camera wet and am trying to figure out how to stay protected from the raindrops while taking advantage of the wonderful images of children laughing in the rain.  I think I have this figured out, but the camera refuses to shoot -- probably because the autofocus is confused by the raindrops.  

I feel a bit frustrated by the experience with Kevin and the inability to capture images of the children, but I am taking pleasure of watching the children at play.

Bad Dream 195 -- Shaving off My Goatee

In my dream, I am shaving -- which for me is a two-step process.  One to cut the length of the hair in my goatee so that it is shorter and of even length overall and the other to shave off all the protruding hair around the goatee and up to my sideburns.  This second part is a bit tricky as I try to clearly define the edges of the goatee without cutting the hair of the goatee itself.

As the dream starts, I am engaged in this defining part of the process and have decided that I don't have to look at myself in the mirror to do that.  And because I'm not looking at my reflection, I cut off a considerable amount of goatee hair.  It only takes a half second of lost concentration for this to happen.  And it happened.  

Looking in the mirror, it's obvious to me that I can't compensate the razor's intrusion into my goatee by shaving off the hair on the opposite side.  It would look truly weird to do so.

So I have no real choice but to shave off the entire goatee -- a solution which doesn't bother me that much, as I am now curious as to what my face looks like without any facial hair.  (Now that I'm writing this, I realize I might have saved the mustache, but that didn't occur to me in the dream.  And I think that if I had thought of it, I would have shaved the mustache off anyway.)

There's a "time lapse" in the dream, whereby the process of removing what was left of the goatee is removed.  One moment I have my goatee and the next moment it's gone.

Looking at my now-naked face, I am surprised as to how much younger I look without the goatee.  In part, that's because the wrinkles in my face are either gone completely or are a lot less prominent.  I now have the face of someone who is 40 years old or younger.  

I'm quite pleased.

_____________________________________

It is apparent to me that this dream reflects my feelings on discovering some old love letters written to me by a woman roughly 55 years ago.  I came across the letters completely by accident -- and had no idea I had kept them.  

But the effect of the letters has been profound on my feelings about this girl -- feelings that I had obviously simply set aside or forgotten or suppressed or whatever.  That the feelings were a complete surprise,  And I cherish these renewed feelings.

She and I got along (my recollection) beautifully for months or maybe a year or two.  I don't recall.  And I don't recall the details of our break-up -- just that I was angry at something she did.  And from where I am and who I am now, I'm afraid that the break-up was completely my fault and that I might have hurt her in the process.  

I am now committed to try and re-establish some relationship with her -- if I can find her.  I only recall that she was a student at Queens College in Kingston, Ontario at the time.  

I realize the result of that search might seriously damage my relationship with Deb, but I tell myself this desire to try and find her would likely just fester.  And the odds of locating her are remote in any case.

But I take the meaning of my dream to be that the search offers a healthy rejuvenation.  

It says here...  

Bad Dream 194 -- Not Ready to Grade the Test

In my dream, I am in a classroom situation.  I am a student along with the rest of the class, but I am also one of three students given the special (duty? honor? responsibility?) of grading the tests of all the other students.  Each one of the three of us will grade the tests of one-third of the students who took the exam.  This means, of course, that the instructor has enough faith in us that the three of us will get an "A" grade on the exam.

The exam has just finished, and the students' test papers are being collected.

The exam asked questions about a famous work of literature.  It might have been something like The Odyssey or possibly Shakespeare or similar.  

Some of the students are chatting away, now that the test is over, concerning the questions and their approach to answering them.  Comments are being made like "I really feel the entire plot pivots on the fact that..." or "Did you think that so-and-so in the story was telling the truth about..."

And I realize that I don't know anything about the questions or opinions being voiced by my fellow students.  Which means that I am totally unable to grade the test papers that would be my responsibility to grade.  (That is, the papers of one-third of all the students.)

I recall that I had read the assigned piece of literature, but I had only read it once and obviously hadn't read it carefully enough to answer any of the questions being asked on the exam.  

I have a choice of trying to fake it for the moment and then try to figure out how to handle the situation once I have the test papers in-hand and have escaped from the classroom -- or simply confessing to the fact that I couldn't grade the tests.  And I choose the latter course.

While most of the students (and the instructor) were in the room and chatting away, I get everyone's attention and told them of my own inadequacy to grade the papers.  The room got very quiet and a heavy feeling of disbelief came over everyone.  "How could Randy have done such an irresponsible thing?" "What do you suppose the instructor's going to do?"  "So who's going to grade my paper?  I thought I did really well on the exam!"  The other students left the room -- some of them glaring at me and some of them giving me a look of pity.  

I feel terrible that I had let everyone down, but okay that I had done the right thing and allowed the instructor to reassign the papers I was to grade -- and the everything would go okay.  As far as the test results.  But that my fellow students would remember my screw-up for a very long time.  

So what do I do now?

Bd Dream 193 -- Set Me On Fire

In my dream, I am standing on a plot of grass -- quite possibly someone's yard -- along with several young men mid- to late-teens.  I know them, but not all that well, except for my dear friend Zink, who is standing with the rest of the guys.

Parked nearby is a fire engine.

These guys are having some fun that looks horribly dangerous -- taking turns so that everyone can watch the individual action.  The player ignites himself and is burning from head to foot -- and the flames are almost immediately doused by other participants.  

I look on in fascination and horror as this takes place two or three times -- each time with a different person being lit.  

After several sessions of this, some of the guys invite me to participate.  I decline, but I am castigated severely by my friend Zink.  He assures me that there is no pain and that everyone else is doing it.  (I note that none of the previous participants is showing any sign of burning -- either on their skin, their hair, or their hair or their clothing.)

The peer pressure from the group for me to participate increases, and in response -- and also to placate my friend -- I agree to be ignited.

I stand in the right spot and someone comes close to me with a small flame.  I can't tell if it's a lit match, a torch, flare, or some other device.  I was not doused with any liquid that would act as fuel for the fire, but I am suddenly and completely burning all over.  I don't feel any pain, and the flames are quickly extinguished.  I get a brief spate of cheers and applause from the rest of the crowd.

Someone makes the suggestion that I should do this again.  Right now.  I'm a bit puzzled by this suggestion, as no one else has taken a second turn.  But everyone, including Zink, agree that my doing this again would be a good thing.  

What crosses my mind is that, when burning, I am totally dependent on the rest of the group to extinguish the flames.  And it's also clear to me that the only reason that folks are not feeling pain is that the flames are extinguished almost immediately.  And I begin to wonder if I'm being "set up" -- that all that has taken place so far is simply to get me agree to be re-ignited so that I will burn to death. 

I have the feeling that my declining the invitation would not be well received, and that the pressure to participate would show up again -- but more seriously.  I look at my friend, but he seems to be going along with this.  I try to think of a reason that Zink would want to kill me this way, but can't think of anything.  

I am seriously determined not to participate, but don't know how to explain my concerns without accusing the group of trying to murder me.  

I wake up.