In my dream, I am on Marsh Creek Lake in an aluminum canoe. One of the classic Grumman boats. My canoe and I are on "the far side" of the lake -- the one directly across from where we normally put in. Maybe 40 yards from the shore of that far side.
I notice that Andrew McIntyre is bobbing along in the water not far from the canoe. I also notice that the water is rather turgid, as if something has kicked up a lot of mud. It's impossible to see anything below the surface of the water.
I notice as well that Brian Fahey is standing on the shore of the side where we normally put in our various boats. He seems to be looking in our direction, but isn't waving his arms or anything...
It makes sense in the dream to start moving back to the "here's where we put in" side. I think so and Andrew seems to think so as well.
There is a painter (a length of rope attached to the bow of a boat) tied to the aft end of the canoe. A pretty heavy piece of rope that floats on the surface of the water. Andrew swims to the aft end of the canoe, ignoring the painter, and wants to push the boat back to the other side -- which as the writer notes is maybe a quarter mile. That's a lot of water across which to push a heavy canoe with a passenger in it.
I show him without saying anything that paddling the canoe is a much easier way to move the boat. I think I'm disinclined to try to get Andrew into the boat, as the activity might easily capsize the canoe. If you know exactly how to do it, it's fairly safe, but I don't know if Andrew knows the procedure. And Andrew doesn't seem to express any interest in getting in either.
I'm making pretty good time across the water -- and it's possible that Andrew is now holding onto the painter rather than trying to swim across or push the canoe. And then I realize that I've lost the paddle overboard. (I don't remember dropping it; and I think it's important that I don't remember dropping it). I look back and see it floating on the water maybe 30 feet or so behind us. I find that I can place both hands in the water -- one hand/arm on each side of the canoe -- and hand paddle back to pick up the wooden one, which I start doing.
I wake up.
Tuesday, August 27, 2019
Saturday, August 10, 2019
Bad Dream 94 -- Morning of 8/10/19
A completely audio dream. (I'm guessing that "dream" is the proper term.) And this certainly qualifies as a "lucid" dream as well.
I am lying in bed half-asleep in the early morning when I hear a voice from (what seems like) downstairs. It must be fairly loud because, as usual, I'm wearing ear plugs.
It's a woman's voice and it could easily be my Mother's when she was much younger and stronger. The voice is quite firm, but not angry or excited or anything like that. It's just declarative firm. If this moment was drawn up as in a cartoon, the words would be boldface.
I can almost make out the words. She seems to say/declare a sentence or two then pause -- as if she wants to allow the listener to absorb the message of what she's just said. Then she proceeds to say another sentence or two and pause yet again.
Occasionally, I can make out a word or two, but never enough to discover what topic or topics she's talking about.
I get the feeling she's not necessarily talking directly to me or to anyone in particular, but I feel she knows I can hear her. It's possible she's standing at the bottom of the staircase just to make sure she's heard.
I understand the risk of taking out my ear plugs: while it may allow me to hear her words clearly and get an understanding of what she's trying to say, it might also be the case that the voice will stop if and when I remove the earplugs.
I take out the ear plugs and try even harder to understand the words. But the words have stopped.
I am lying in bed half-asleep in the early morning when I hear a voice from (what seems like) downstairs. It must be fairly loud because, as usual, I'm wearing ear plugs.
It's a woman's voice and it could easily be my Mother's when she was much younger and stronger. The voice is quite firm, but not angry or excited or anything like that. It's just declarative firm. If this moment was drawn up as in a cartoon, the words would be boldface.
I can almost make out the words. She seems to say/declare a sentence or two then pause -- as if she wants to allow the listener to absorb the message of what she's just said. Then she proceeds to say another sentence or two and pause yet again.
Occasionally, I can make out a word or two, but never enough to discover what topic or topics she's talking about.
I get the feeling she's not necessarily talking directly to me or to anyone in particular, but I feel she knows I can hear her. It's possible she's standing at the bottom of the staircase just to make sure she's heard.
I understand the risk of taking out my ear plugs: while it may allow me to hear her words clearly and get an understanding of what she's trying to say, it might also be the case that the voice will stop if and when I remove the earplugs.
I take out the ear plugs and try even harder to understand the words. But the words have stopped.
Sunday, August 4, 2019
Bad Dream 93 -- Morning of 8/3/19
In my dream, I am helping someone prepare for some kind of martial arts contest. This is not physical help, more keeping the details of the event straight and making sure my guy is in the right place at the right time with the right credentials, etc.
There is a woman who is assisting me with this. Doing secretarial type stuff. I'm thinking it might be Deb.
She and I are "excited" about the upcoming competition. Maybe "energized" is a better word. We know that what we're doing is absolutely necessary to have the event come off successfully. And we have a certain (but not monetary) "investment" in our combatant and want him to do well.
In preparation for the event, we are setting up tables (the folding kind) and chairs (ditto) rather than clearing the area for physical combat. This feels strange to me and I wonder if we're doing the right thing. But the set-up is taking place in an orderly fashion and the other people doing the work are treating the set-up as routine.
As we approach the time when the competition/combat is supposed to take place and the set-up is almost done, our guy says he's not going through with it. He knows the opponent and knows he's unlikely to beat him. There's an undercurrent here that he also doesn't want to get hurt. The winner in events like this may come off without a scratch, but the loser is typically beaten physically rather convincingly. That is, after all, why he lost.
I can understand his reluctance to compete. It's very sensible given his analysis, and what little I know about the other guy suggests that my guy is absolutely correct.
I'm disappointed as are the other members of the set-up team, but I also have a feeling of relief: I really wasn't interested in seeing our guy get pummeled. I am a bit annoyed that he didn't come to this conclusion earlier -- before we did all the paperwork and other arrangements -- but I certainly can't fault or blame him for reaching and expressing this conclusion.
There is a woman who is assisting me with this. Doing secretarial type stuff. I'm thinking it might be Deb.
She and I are "excited" about the upcoming competition. Maybe "energized" is a better word. We know that what we're doing is absolutely necessary to have the event come off successfully. And we have a certain (but not monetary) "investment" in our combatant and want him to do well.
In preparation for the event, we are setting up tables (the folding kind) and chairs (ditto) rather than clearing the area for physical combat. This feels strange to me and I wonder if we're doing the right thing. But the set-up is taking place in an orderly fashion and the other people doing the work are treating the set-up as routine.
As we approach the time when the competition/combat is supposed to take place and the set-up is almost done, our guy says he's not going through with it. He knows the opponent and knows he's unlikely to beat him. There's an undercurrent here that he also doesn't want to get hurt. The winner in events like this may come off without a scratch, but the loser is typically beaten physically rather convincingly. That is, after all, why he lost.
I can understand his reluctance to compete. It's very sensible given his analysis, and what little I know about the other guy suggests that my guy is absolutely correct.
I'm disappointed as are the other members of the set-up team, but I also have a feeling of relief: I really wasn't interested in seeing our guy get pummeled. I am a bit annoyed that he didn't come to this conclusion earlier -- before we did all the paperwork and other arrangements -- but I certainly can't fault or blame him for reaching and expressing this conclusion.
Bad Dream 92 -- Morning of 8/2/91
In my dream, I have just finished up some activity. It may have been being in the audience of a theatrical or musical performance or visiting a museum or a sporting event or...
In any case, I am outside the building where I've been and walking a bit. I didn't drive a car to this event and am concerned that I might have to walk home -- which feels like it would be several miles. Visually, I am reminded of West Chester Pike in towards Upper Darby as I look at and/or think about the road I would walk along. It feels as if it's rather late in the day. There's still lots of sunlight, but that might disappear if I have to walk all the way home.
Ahead of me, I see what looks like a open-air bus stop, which feels promising. Maybe I can get a ride back to my house, or at least a lot closer. As I approach the canopy that comprises the bus stop, I see a bus pull up to it and stop. This feels very promising! The bus is rather newish in appearance and quite clean. I get aboard the bus without asking any questions and don't need to pay a fee: it's pointed in the right direction, do why bother asking questions? There are a few people already on the bus. I don't recognize anyone.
The bus starts up and begins to move, and something tells me that I may have made a mistake in getting on. There's a similarity between all the other people on the bus, even though some are male and others female, some are considerably younger than others. I can't identify why they "feel" similar. It's not threatening or reassuring.
I'm not sure whether I ask someone about "Where are we headed?" or I just figure it out, but I now understand that the bus is part of the transportation system for the local college. And there's a hint from somewhere that the bus is part of the football program at the school. And I think about Penn State's huge campus, even though I've never spent any time at State College.
People on the bus are looking at me now -- not angry or curious, just looking. They seem to understand that I really shouldn't be on the bus. It doesn't bother them that I am, it's just they know I am not going to the college.
I'm okay staying on the bus, because it is taking me in the right direction and I "know" I can get off when I need to. And the bus is a whole lot faster towards getting home than hoofing it the entire distance.
In any case, I am outside the building where I've been and walking a bit. I didn't drive a car to this event and am concerned that I might have to walk home -- which feels like it would be several miles. Visually, I am reminded of West Chester Pike in towards Upper Darby as I look at and/or think about the road I would walk along. It feels as if it's rather late in the day. There's still lots of sunlight, but that might disappear if I have to walk all the way home.
Ahead of me, I see what looks like a open-air bus stop, which feels promising. Maybe I can get a ride back to my house, or at least a lot closer. As I approach the canopy that comprises the bus stop, I see a bus pull up to it and stop. This feels very promising! The bus is rather newish in appearance and quite clean. I get aboard the bus without asking any questions and don't need to pay a fee: it's pointed in the right direction, do why bother asking questions? There are a few people already on the bus. I don't recognize anyone.
The bus starts up and begins to move, and something tells me that I may have made a mistake in getting on. There's a similarity between all the other people on the bus, even though some are male and others female, some are considerably younger than others. I can't identify why they "feel" similar. It's not threatening or reassuring.
I'm not sure whether I ask someone about "Where are we headed?" or I just figure it out, but I now understand that the bus is part of the transportation system for the local college. And there's a hint from somewhere that the bus is part of the football program at the school. And I think about Penn State's huge campus, even though I've never spent any time at State College.
People on the bus are looking at me now -- not angry or curious, just looking. They seem to understand that I really shouldn't be on the bus. It doesn't bother them that I am, it's just they know I am not going to the college.
I'm okay staying on the bus, because it is taking me in the right direction and I "know" I can get off when I need to. And the bus is a whole lot faster towards getting home than hoofing it the entire distance.
Monday, July 29, 2019
Just a note so that I don't lose this experience.
Evening of Friday 7/26/19. Deb is away at Yearly Meeting. Has been since Wednesday and won't be home until Sunday.
I haven't a clue as to why this happened at all or why it happened then -- but it may have something to do with Deb's absence.
As I'm finishing up dinner (I think), it suddenly occurs to me that I miss my Mother. Not just that I recognize the fact that she's dead. She's gone. She's not coming back...
But that I'll never hear her voice again. I'll never have another chance to tell her some stupid joke that she thinks is a riot. I'll never have another chance to reminisce about when we were young. When all of us were young. Never have another dish of her famous spaghetti sauce (you can skip the noodles, just pour this over a piece of toast or something...) Never have another chance to hear her interact with Dad -- to pronounce his one-syllable name as a four-syllable word: "Deee-aaaaa-nnnn-eeee!" always with a note of exasperation.
Never.
And it hurt.
I haven't a clue as to why this happened at all or why it happened then -- but it may have something to do with Deb's absence.
As I'm finishing up dinner (I think), it suddenly occurs to me that I miss my Mother. Not just that I recognize the fact that she's dead. She's gone. She's not coming back...
But that I'll never hear her voice again. I'll never have another chance to tell her some stupid joke that she thinks is a riot. I'll never have another chance to reminisce about when we were young. When all of us were young. Never have another dish of her famous spaghetti sauce (you can skip the noodles, just pour this over a piece of toast or something...) Never have another chance to hear her interact with Dad -- to pronounce his one-syllable name as a four-syllable word: "Deee-aaaaa-nnnn-eeee!" always with a note of exasperation.
Never.
And it hurt.
Bad Dream 91 -- Morning of 7/29/19
In my dream, I am staying in a hotel/motel room. I think I have not been there long, because I'm still making discoveries as I walk about the room. One wall is completely (or almost) glass windows -- floor to ceiling. I'm on the ground floor and these windows are looking out at a street scene with considerable foot traffic as well as vehicular traffic.
The window coverings are very light and frilly curtain material that comes nowhere close to covering the windows. So that, even as I can look out at the people on the street, they can look in at me. Out of curiosity as much as anything else, I tug at one of the curtains and confirm that it barely moves and does nothing to provide privacy.
My major concern is that I can't undress to change clothes or get ready for bed. Safety is also a concern but I think not as much.
I see that there are pull shades available on some, maybe most, maybe all the windows and I pull one of them down to confirm they work. I don't know whether pulling all the existing shades would allow me to change clothes safely, but decide not to pursue the issue and let the shade roll back up. (This bit may be out of place chronologically with the rest of the dream...)
I go to the door to make sure it's closed and discover that the handle/latch mechanism doesn't work, so that, not only can you not lock the door, you can't even make sure the door is closed. I then notice that one of those small slide locks -- a small brass rod that slips into an small brass arch on the frame of the door. I move the rod to the "Locked" position to make sure that the door won't simply drift open -- or someone pushes on the door and it opens. But I know that anyone leaning heavily against the door would dislodge the slide lock completely.
Two workmen "appear" in the next image of the room. I think they're there to fix the door handle/latch mechanism, but they don't seem to be in any hurry to do that. I explain the situation to them and they seem a bit concerned but not surprised.
I turn to the rest of the room and discover that there are 7 TV sets -- all of them "on" -- piled up near one corner of the room. Placed pretty much with their backs against the wall. All of them are the old-style "picture tube" variety rather than modern flat screens and they're all showing black & white images. Some are considerably larger than others. There's very little sound coming from any of them.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the story being told on one of the sets. It's video of an old football game. In the middle of the action, one of the players hands or tosses the ball to the coach (Vince Lombardi?) who throws a pretty good spiral back onto the field where it's caught by one of his players for a complete pass -- and the play is judged to be legal. The announcer is excited: this seems to be the first time in football history anyone has done this -- and it turn out to be legal.
Somewhere around here in the dream, I see an altercation on the street -- I think between two women -- and it looks like it's getting pretty serious. I understand that if gun play starts, that I would be in jeopardy, given the large glass windows and the possibility of a stray bullet... I'm concerned, but don't know what to do about it. Other people out there get involved, separate the two women, and things quiet down.
I also have a note here about "traffic accident," but I don't remember anything about that.
I understand that I'm out-of-town and I think this is a working trip. I think I flew out to get here, but with all the confusion going on, I'm considering driving back home when the job is done. There are pluses and minuses on each side of this decision to fly or drive. I don't recall what they were.
One of the workers -- who still are not doing anything about the door, but seem to be sitting and relaxing (but not watching TV) -- is eating something off a plate. Something with tomato sauce and melted cheese
Somewhere late in the going, Deb shows up and begins to straighten things up. I don't know if the workmen are still there, but I think they are.
The window coverings are very light and frilly curtain material that comes nowhere close to covering the windows. So that, even as I can look out at the people on the street, they can look in at me. Out of curiosity as much as anything else, I tug at one of the curtains and confirm that it barely moves and does nothing to provide privacy.
My major concern is that I can't undress to change clothes or get ready for bed. Safety is also a concern but I think not as much.
I see that there are pull shades available on some, maybe most, maybe all the windows and I pull one of them down to confirm they work. I don't know whether pulling all the existing shades would allow me to change clothes safely, but decide not to pursue the issue and let the shade roll back up. (This bit may be out of place chronologically with the rest of the dream...)
I go to the door to make sure it's closed and discover that the handle/latch mechanism doesn't work, so that, not only can you not lock the door, you can't even make sure the door is closed. I then notice that one of those small slide locks -- a small brass rod that slips into an small brass arch on the frame of the door. I move the rod to the "Locked" position to make sure that the door won't simply drift open -- or someone pushes on the door and it opens. But I know that anyone leaning heavily against the door would dislodge the slide lock completely.
Two workmen "appear" in the next image of the room. I think they're there to fix the door handle/latch mechanism, but they don't seem to be in any hurry to do that. I explain the situation to them and they seem a bit concerned but not surprised.
I turn to the rest of the room and discover that there are 7 TV sets -- all of them "on" -- piled up near one corner of the room. Placed pretty much with their backs against the wall. All of them are the old-style "picture tube" variety rather than modern flat screens and they're all showing black & white images. Some are considerably larger than others. There's very little sound coming from any of them.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the story being told on one of the sets. It's video of an old football game. In the middle of the action, one of the players hands or tosses the ball to the coach (Vince Lombardi?) who throws a pretty good spiral back onto the field where it's caught by one of his players for a complete pass -- and the play is judged to be legal. The announcer is excited: this seems to be the first time in football history anyone has done this -- and it turn out to be legal.
Somewhere around here in the dream, I see an altercation on the street -- I think between two women -- and it looks like it's getting pretty serious. I understand that if gun play starts, that I would be in jeopardy, given the large glass windows and the possibility of a stray bullet... I'm concerned, but don't know what to do about it. Other people out there get involved, separate the two women, and things quiet down.
I also have a note here about "traffic accident," but I don't remember anything about that.
I understand that I'm out-of-town and I think this is a working trip. I think I flew out to get here, but with all the confusion going on, I'm considering driving back home when the job is done. There are pluses and minuses on each side of this decision to fly or drive. I don't recall what they were.
One of the workers -- who still are not doing anything about the door, but seem to be sitting and relaxing (but not watching TV) -- is eating something off a plate. Something with tomato sauce and melted cheese
Somewhere late in the going, Deb shows up and begins to straighten things up. I don't know if the workmen are still there, but I think they are.
Tuesday, July 9, 2019
Bad Dream 90 -- Another scrap date unknown
Following on to Bad Dream 89, I've just discovered another note I wrote to myself after waking up from a dream:
"Major repair bill for the car Signing a problem"
I do recall fuzzy bits, like the dream did not specify what it was that needed repair (suspension? engine? body damage?). And I also recall the frustration I felt in trying to write my name (?) on a form for this work. The paper was large and folded and floppy. The ink line from the pen was far too broad. I couldn't find a solid, flat surface to write on. And when I actually put pen to paper, I wrote down the wrong thing and started hoping that I could get a fresh document to work with -- but didn't expect to get one...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)