I lost the earlier section of this dream. Couldn't recall it...
In the later part of my dream, I am remembering that I used to work for Donald Trump. He and I didn't like each other and we parted on less than pleasant terms.
But I have a new job now, which is working out perfectly well. I am explaining a game you might call "Alphabet Arithmetic" to a co-worker: numbers from one to twenty-six each represents a letter in the alphabet. So "B"+"H" = "J"
I think I'm trying to convince him that our company should develop and market this as a game for kids.
Donald Trump walks in through a doorway holding a cell phone. Older model. He holds this out to my co-worker, and I understand that DT thinks that this is my co-worker's lost cell phone. The co-worker shakes his head, as in "No, that's not the right one."
When DT sees me, he clearly recognizes me and he scowls.
DT withdraws the phone from between the two of them. It looks like he's starting to leave, but turns around and says to my co-worker: "Show me," as in "Show me what your phone looks like so I have a better idea of what to look for."
Thursday, January 31, 2019
Saturday, January 26, 2019
Bad Dream 29 -- Morning of 1/26/19
In my dream, I'm working in a smallish office. There are maybe 6 or 8 desks, each with a worker assigned to it. We all do essentially the same job -- which has to do with rental properties: finding new clients on both sides of a rental agreement.
I can see some of the other workers walking around or talking on the phone -- clearly getting business done. The volume of the speech is low.
I'm fairly new at this job.
The scene shifts to outside, where there's a very large truck with some kind of dump-truck equipment. I'm standing nearby watching the truck's loading or unloading itself -- it's not clear -- but the "bed" of the truck comes crashing down to its normal position. I'm startled by the sound.
I am now back in the office, standing close to my desk, and I see someone has left a pair of jeans and a denim jacket crumpled on the floor just in front of the large bottom drawer of my desk. I am really annoyed at this: Who did it? Why did they do this? Are the clothes clean? Should I even touch them?
Some of the guys around the office look over my way, disinterested maybe or just curious.
As I'm trying to figure out what to do with the clothes, I think about just getting back to work. And it occurs to me that I haven't the slightest idea how to do this job. I think I may have had some cursory training, but certainly not enough to perform the job I've been hired to do.
I can see some of the other workers walking around or talking on the phone -- clearly getting business done. The volume of the speech is low.
I'm fairly new at this job.
The scene shifts to outside, where there's a very large truck with some kind of dump-truck equipment. I'm standing nearby watching the truck's loading or unloading itself -- it's not clear -- but the "bed" of the truck comes crashing down to its normal position. I'm startled by the sound.
I am now back in the office, standing close to my desk, and I see someone has left a pair of jeans and a denim jacket crumpled on the floor just in front of the large bottom drawer of my desk. I am really annoyed at this: Who did it? Why did they do this? Are the clothes clean? Should I even touch them?
Some of the guys around the office look over my way, disinterested maybe or just curious.
As I'm trying to figure out what to do with the clothes, I think about just getting back to work. And it occurs to me that I haven't the slightest idea how to do this job. I think I may have had some cursory training, but certainly not enough to perform the job I've been hired to do.
Tuesday, January 22, 2019
The Tao Teh Ching and Me
First of all, an introduction: The Tao Teh Ching is a book of ancient Chinese wisdom written around 600 BCE. I've read that it is the second most-translated book into English. The book is attributed to a Lao Tzu, but scholars disagree as to whether he wrote the book initially or simply compiled aphorisms that were general knowledge at the time. In fact, scholars debate whether there was a single person called "Lao Tzu" at all.
The book is comprised of 81 "chapters" Most chapters take up less than a single page in a book and many of them take up less than a half page. So it's a very short book. Recurring topics in the book include personal integrity, respect for the natural world, escape from dualistic thinking, the futility and danger of owning earthly treasure, and advice for those who rule over others.
Here's a sample:
"Thirty spokes are gathered at each hub:
absence makes the cart work.
A storage jar fashioned out of clay:
absence makes the jar work.
Doors and windows cut in a house:
absence makes the house work.
Presence gives things their value,
but absence makes them work." (Translation by David Hinton)
I love the book. I own over a dozen different translations, each of which reveals a new facet of the author -- and (for better or worse) of the translator.
I came across the book in the mid 1970's and was immediately taken with its terse prose and deep wisdom. Back then, my wife and I were relatively new at Quakerism, and we were enchanted with the theological freedom we had found in our local Quaker Meeting. (My wife had been a lapsed Catholic for years by then, and I had been a lapsed Episcopal for even longer.)
When I started going to Renee Crauder's 8-day silent retreats (described elsewhere in this document), I developed a newfound respect for the Bible in general and Jesus in particular. And I didn't find any conflict between what I read in the Bible and what I read in the Tao Teh Ching and how I understood Quakerism. And at the same time, I found a closer relationship between the Tao Teh Ching. And this closeness was supported and validated by my understanding of Quakerism.
So for decades, I had these three "pillars" of my faith: Jesus, Quakerism, and the Tao Teh Ching. And I felt no conflict between any of these. But my connection to "formal" Christianity -- which I think was never that strong -- waned ever fainter. There were all the scandals of people calling themselves "Christians" -- TV evangelists, predatory Catholic priests, political conservatives who adjusted Scripture to meet their right-wing agendas. And then there was the outstanding issue of: "What about all those deeply devoted Muslims, Jews, Native Americans etc. Does Christianity deny them the path to salvation and holiness?"
So it seems to me that as my interest dwindled in being a "full-bore" Christian, my interest in Jesus went along with that. Just too much "baggage." And so that "pillar" of my faith fell away -- which felt was okay (when I thought about it at all), as I had two pillars left.
So for decades, I drew my spiritual nourishment from the Tao Teh Ching and participation in Quaker Meeting. But with time, my interest in the book became more and more of an intellectual pursuit rather than a source of wisdom and solace. And my involvement with Meeting became more and more a matter of social and organizational commitment rather than a spiritual home.
In the months of my involvement with The School of the Spirit, I have come to see that I've allowed myself to settle into a rather small Spiritual Home, as described elsewhere in this paper.
The book is comprised of 81 "chapters" Most chapters take up less than a single page in a book and many of them take up less than a half page. So it's a very short book. Recurring topics in the book include personal integrity, respect for the natural world, escape from dualistic thinking, the futility and danger of owning earthly treasure, and advice for those who rule over others.
Here's a sample:
"Thirty spokes are gathered at each hub:
absence makes the cart work.
A storage jar fashioned out of clay:
absence makes the jar work.
Doors and windows cut in a house:
absence makes the house work.
Presence gives things their value,
but absence makes them work." (Translation by David Hinton)
I love the book. I own over a dozen different translations, each of which reveals a new facet of the author -- and (for better or worse) of the translator.
I came across the book in the mid 1970's and was immediately taken with its terse prose and deep wisdom. Back then, my wife and I were relatively new at Quakerism, and we were enchanted with the theological freedom we had found in our local Quaker Meeting. (My wife had been a lapsed Catholic for years by then, and I had been a lapsed Episcopal for even longer.)
When I started going to Renee Crauder's 8-day silent retreats (described elsewhere in this document), I developed a newfound respect for the Bible in general and Jesus in particular. And I didn't find any conflict between what I read in the Bible and what I read in the Tao Teh Ching and how I understood Quakerism. And at the same time, I found a closer relationship between the Tao Teh Ching. And this closeness was supported and validated by my understanding of Quakerism.
So for decades, I had these three "pillars" of my faith: Jesus, Quakerism, and the Tao Teh Ching. And I felt no conflict between any of these. But my connection to "formal" Christianity -- which I think was never that strong -- waned ever fainter. There were all the scandals of people calling themselves "Christians" -- TV evangelists, predatory Catholic priests, political conservatives who adjusted Scripture to meet their right-wing agendas. And then there was the outstanding issue of: "What about all those deeply devoted Muslims, Jews, Native Americans etc. Does Christianity deny them the path to salvation and holiness?"
So it seems to me that as my interest dwindled in being a "full-bore" Christian, my interest in Jesus went along with that. Just too much "baggage." And so that "pillar" of my faith fell away -- which felt was okay (when I thought about it at all), as I had two pillars left.
So for decades, I drew my spiritual nourishment from the Tao Teh Ching and participation in Quaker Meeting. But with time, my interest in the book became more and more of an intellectual pursuit rather than a source of wisdom and solace. And my involvement with Meeting became more and more a matter of social and organizational commitment rather than a spiritual home.
In the months of my involvement with The School of the Spirit, I have come to see that I've allowed myself to settle into a rather small Spiritual Home, as described elsewhere in this paper.
Monday, January 21, 2019
Bad Dream 28 -- Morning of 1/21/19
In my dream, a friend and I are hiking and just come to a small town. We decide to stop and get some lunch and we spot a small restaurant ahead of us. It's a tidy looking building covered in yellow shingles.
We walk inside. The walls are also yellow, with brown wooden benches and tables. It's all quite neat and inviting. Signs of a well run establishment. There are no other customers -- either in line or sitting at a table.
Somehow or other, we know that the restaurant prides itself on its fried chicken.
We notice that there are no printed menus. And there is a sign over the counter that should have contained choices for a meal, but it doesn't really convey any information. We mention this to the lady behind the counter and she directs us to another wall that has a reasonably complete display of choices of food and beverage. But nowhere on the list does it list fried chicken.
We bring this to the lady's attention. There is also a man behind the counter, and it seems likely that they are husband and wife. The two of them start explaining why the menu situation is what it is, and we're ready to accept what they say even though I don't understand the situation.
As we consider what to order, the guy behind the counter asks us if we want to have the pressure in the tires on our car checked. We look at each other, puzzled and say "No thanks." The two of them start to lecture us about the importance of having the proper pressure in the tires -- in terms of tire wear and safety. They then ask about whether we'd like other services (which I simply don't remember) -- none of which has anything to do with food. We continue to say "Thanks but no thanks. We just want to get something to eat."
They assure us they know what we'd like to eat and would be happy to prepare that for us. So this may be fried chicken or not, but if it's what they want to prepare, that's fine by us. We find a table at which to sit and wait for a while for our food to show up.
Shortly after we sit, more people show up and pretty soon, the small restaurant is completely filled with people. Folks are standing and folks are sitting and many of the folks are eating food that obviously the restaurant has prepared for them. We still haven't got our food.
I look over at the couple and shrug as if to say: "When are we getting our meals?" They look at us and bob their heads as if to say: "Yes, we understand your concern and are working towards getting your meal ready." This happens several times.
I tell them "We'd like to get our food, please, and any more nonsense from you and we're simply walking out." They get the message and get back to work preparing these other meals for other people.
Finally the restaurant empties of all the other customers -- except us. We continue to sit at our table, but begin to understand that we're simply not going to be fed.
We walk inside. The walls are also yellow, with brown wooden benches and tables. It's all quite neat and inviting. Signs of a well run establishment. There are no other customers -- either in line or sitting at a table.
Somehow or other, we know that the restaurant prides itself on its fried chicken.
We notice that there are no printed menus. And there is a sign over the counter that should have contained choices for a meal, but it doesn't really convey any information. We mention this to the lady behind the counter and she directs us to another wall that has a reasonably complete display of choices of food and beverage. But nowhere on the list does it list fried chicken.
We bring this to the lady's attention. There is also a man behind the counter, and it seems likely that they are husband and wife. The two of them start explaining why the menu situation is what it is, and we're ready to accept what they say even though I don't understand the situation.
As we consider what to order, the guy behind the counter asks us if we want to have the pressure in the tires on our car checked. We look at each other, puzzled and say "No thanks." The two of them start to lecture us about the importance of having the proper pressure in the tires -- in terms of tire wear and safety. They then ask about whether we'd like other services (which I simply don't remember) -- none of which has anything to do with food. We continue to say "Thanks but no thanks. We just want to get something to eat."
They assure us they know what we'd like to eat and would be happy to prepare that for us. So this may be fried chicken or not, but if it's what they want to prepare, that's fine by us. We find a table at which to sit and wait for a while for our food to show up.
Shortly after we sit, more people show up and pretty soon, the small restaurant is completely filled with people. Folks are standing and folks are sitting and many of the folks are eating food that obviously the restaurant has prepared for them. We still haven't got our food.
I look over at the couple and shrug as if to say: "When are we getting our meals?" They look at us and bob their heads as if to say: "Yes, we understand your concern and are working towards getting your meal ready." This happens several times.
I tell them "We'd like to get our food, please, and any more nonsense from you and we're simply walking out." They get the message and get back to work preparing these other meals for other people.
Finally the restaurant empties of all the other customers -- except us. We continue to sit at our table, but begin to understand that we're simply not going to be fed.
The Perils of Dream Collecting
Just want this on the record:
Documenting your dreams -- especially 4 or 5 times a week -- can be a real chore.
The moment you wake up, you have to write down pretty much anything and everything you can remember about the dream. I can feel my memory of the contents of a dream gradually sifting out of my head from shortly after waking up. Certainly if you wait until morning to write down anything about the dream, you may find you don't remember anything about it.
So I wake up, let's say, at 2:30 in the morning. I've just had a dream that I feel could be important. I want to write down as much as I can recall. But I am not -- repeat NOT -- going to turn on the light and possibly wake up my wonderful wife, who works so hard and doesn't -- in my humble opinion -- get enough sleep normally.
So it means hauling my carcass out of bed, searching for pen and paper, and waltzing into the bathroom to write down everything I can. This may take 10 minutes or more. By the time I get back to bed, I am thoroughly awake and find it impossible to get back to sleep -- typically for a couple of hours.
Fortunately, it's been cold enough that staying tucked up in bed is a nice thing to do.
But when I finally get to sleep around 4:00 AM, I'm only able to get maybe two hours' sleep. I don't know how this affects my total sleep inventory, but I don't think it improves it.
Just sayin'
Documenting your dreams -- especially 4 or 5 times a week -- can be a real chore.
The moment you wake up, you have to write down pretty much anything and everything you can remember about the dream. I can feel my memory of the contents of a dream gradually sifting out of my head from shortly after waking up. Certainly if you wait until morning to write down anything about the dream, you may find you don't remember anything about it.
So I wake up, let's say, at 2:30 in the morning. I've just had a dream that I feel could be important. I want to write down as much as I can recall. But I am not -- repeat NOT -- going to turn on the light and possibly wake up my wonderful wife, who works so hard and doesn't -- in my humble opinion -- get enough sleep normally.
So it means hauling my carcass out of bed, searching for pen and paper, and waltzing into the bathroom to write down everything I can. This may take 10 minutes or more. By the time I get back to bed, I am thoroughly awake and find it impossible to get back to sleep -- typically for a couple of hours.
Fortunately, it's been cold enough that staying tucked up in bed is a nice thing to do.
But when I finally get to sleep around 4:00 AM, I'm only able to get maybe two hours' sleep. I don't know how this affects my total sleep inventory, but I don't think it improves it.
Just sayin'
Bad Dream 27 -- Morning of 1/21/19
In my dream, I am a student taking a "heavy" (word from my notes) class. Difficult, in other words. I am -- I think -- in the classroom, chatting with my fellow students. I don't know why, but I only got 10 minutes sleep last night -- and I keep telling fellow students that. They don't care.
I fake my way through a couple of classes, continuing to tell people about only getting 10 minutes sleep.
I am now in what seems to be a large old house that's been converted into essentially a boarding house. I really need to get more sleep. The front desk clerk understands, turns his head slightly and nods as if to say "Walk down the hallway a bit and you'll find a room for yourself." I walk to the first door, which is slightly ajar and push it open -- hoping this is the room the clerk wanted me to use.
In the room, there's a large bed occupied by a very pretty girl wearing nothing but a short nightie. She sees me and rolls across the bed away from me -- not frightened, just rolling. As she does this her nightie comes up over her head and away from her. She's now naked. As she does this, I see that there's also a guy in the bed with her. So I ask myself: "Is she inviting me to join them in bed or is she just moving away from me?" Deciding that the consequence of choosing the first option might be dangerous, I decide the best thing to do is simply close the door and try another room.
Some of the doors are firmly closed and do not invite any investigation. Others are open and reveal a room that has recently been slept in and haven't been tidied up yet. I decide none of these rooms are going to serve my purpose, so I should just try to get some breakfast.
I walk down to the breakfast dining room and see that all the tables are occupied. I enter the door to the kitchen and am surprised and pleased to see an old friend working there. We spend some time talking about my order for scrambled eggs, toast, etc. but finally get the order straightened out.
I walk back out to the dining room, which has become a very large restaurant with a number of unoccupied tables. I choose one and sit down in anticipation of my breakfast showing up sometime soon. Then I realize that there's no jellies or jams at the table, and I will want some grape jelly for my toast.
So I get up and walk around to other unoccupied tables hoping to find a packet or two of grape jelly (which, in Real Life, is certainly not my favorite!) with no success. There doesn't seem to be any jelly or jam in the entire restaurant.
I fake my way through a couple of classes, continuing to tell people about only getting 10 minutes sleep.
I am now in what seems to be a large old house that's been converted into essentially a boarding house. I really need to get more sleep. The front desk clerk understands, turns his head slightly and nods as if to say "Walk down the hallway a bit and you'll find a room for yourself." I walk to the first door, which is slightly ajar and push it open -- hoping this is the room the clerk wanted me to use.
In the room, there's a large bed occupied by a very pretty girl wearing nothing but a short nightie. She sees me and rolls across the bed away from me -- not frightened, just rolling. As she does this her nightie comes up over her head and away from her. She's now naked. As she does this, I see that there's also a guy in the bed with her. So I ask myself: "Is she inviting me to join them in bed or is she just moving away from me?" Deciding that the consequence of choosing the first option might be dangerous, I decide the best thing to do is simply close the door and try another room.
Some of the doors are firmly closed and do not invite any investigation. Others are open and reveal a room that has recently been slept in and haven't been tidied up yet. I decide none of these rooms are going to serve my purpose, so I should just try to get some breakfast.
I walk down to the breakfast dining room and see that all the tables are occupied. I enter the door to the kitchen and am surprised and pleased to see an old friend working there. We spend some time talking about my order for scrambled eggs, toast, etc. but finally get the order straightened out.
I walk back out to the dining room, which has become a very large restaurant with a number of unoccupied tables. I choose one and sit down in anticipation of my breakfast showing up sometime soon. Then I realize that there's no jellies or jams at the table, and I will want some grape jelly for my toast.
So I get up and walk around to other unoccupied tables hoping to find a packet or two of grape jelly (which, in Real Life, is certainly not my favorite!) with no success. There doesn't seem to be any jelly or jam in the entire restaurant.
Sunday, January 20, 2019
Lucid Dreams
Recently I've been experiencing -- what I'm fairly sure are -- Lucid Dreams. They typically show up shortly before I wake up, which makes perfect sense to me.
Here is Wikipedia's definition of that phenomenon: "A lucid dream is a dream during which the dreamer is aware that they are dreaming. During a lucid dream, the dreamer may gain some amount of control over the dream characters, narrative, and environment; however, this is not necessary for a dream to be described as lucid." When I'm in such a state, I can "hear myself" thinking -- and maybe talking -- about what is happening and what should happen next.
I don't know how useful or diagnostic this is. It's quite possible I've been doing Lucid Dreaming for months or years, but given my current interest in dreams, I'm simply more aware of what's going on. At this point, I'm not even sure how many of the dreams I've documented that were Lucid.
I've copied out Wikipedia's entire entry about these dreams and placed the copy in the binder I've set up for my Project.
Here is Wikipedia's definition of that phenomenon: "A lucid dream is a dream during which the dreamer is aware that they are dreaming. During a lucid dream, the dreamer may gain some amount of control over the dream characters, narrative, and environment; however, this is not necessary for a dream to be described as lucid." When I'm in such a state, I can "hear myself" thinking -- and maybe talking -- about what is happening and what should happen next.
I don't know how useful or diagnostic this is. It's quite possible I've been doing Lucid Dreaming for months or years, but given my current interest in dreams, I'm simply more aware of what's going on. At this point, I'm not even sure how many of the dreams I've documented that were Lucid.
I've copied out Wikipedia's entire entry about these dreams and placed the copy in the binder I've set up for my Project.
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