Last night I had an odd dream. I was in my parents’ old neighborhood in the evening and went by the house I grew up in, knowing that my parents did not live there any more. The front door was open, with the screen door closed, and I saw that the new owners were home. I walked a bit more but decided to try to visit them. They let me in and I spoke some Spanish with them. They’d redesigned the former spit-foyer into a nice kitchen area and I told them it looked great. The wife in the family told me that she had too much stuff and had to get rid of a library card catalog, which I could see in the new kitchen area: many wooden drawers in the old style. She wanted to give it to me. It had artwork from past eras and I was excited to get such a gift. First, we had to go to a library together, though. There was a somewhat pudgy male security guard there. He gave her a hard time but didn’t ask me too many questions. Then we were both waiting by the entrance to the library to be let in, with a crowd of people around us. I woke up before we were let inside.
A few days ago, I had another dream set in my parents’ former house: I was in the living room logging onto an old text-based chat, the sort that existed in the early 90’s, which I first encountered in university. The dream had a very nostalgic feel to it and I felt like the people on the chat truly understood me, and I them. I woke up feeling a bit surprised: I am used to having more 80’s nostalgia than 90’s nostalgia, but there it was.
I’ve been having lots of dreams lately but haven’t been so good about recording them. One recent one stands out quite a bit, though. This past week, I was reading a Karen Hendrickx book about how Aspergers and Autism manifest in women. I then had a dream that I was a Vulcan living in a society of Romulans, trying to keep from being discovered because they would react violently if they realized I was not one of them. The dream was set in a mountainous area and there was one other Vulcan hiding out with me (having a “double” in a dream can be meaningful, emphasizing the immediate relevance to the dreamer themselves). We both had to keep quiet to “blend in” and not get hurt. When I woke up, I realized that this dream was actually a really good analogy of what it can be like to have Aspergers/high-functioning Autism in the NT world. It does feel like being undercover among aliens who look like you but who are from another, emotional and warlike planet, who might act out—and indeed treat you as an invading threat—if they realize you are not “one of them.”
My dreams felt unusual last night. In one, I was traveling through a dream version of Germany by train. It seemed to last a while. Some time in, I had some trouble with the tickets, as I thought I had bought the right ones, but a conductor indicated I hadn’t. What I remember most was that I was transporting my friends’ mackeral tabby cat in a bag, which I suspected I was not allowed to do. At one point I was wondering why I had their cat and not my own.
Then, there was another dream later in which I suddenly and briefly met the members of a metal band I like that sings in a minority language after mentioning the language in the dream. The dream had more band members than there are in waking life, though.
Last night it took a long time to fall asleep (I’m in the middle of packing for a big move). When I did, I had some dreams I remember. One was a fragment about trying to find something at a grocery store. Then I had a long sequence where I was on a campus, not quite like one I’ve been on in waking life. I was up in a short tower surrounded by trees and walkways to other buildings, and it seemed to be early evening or dusk out. There was a professor there who specialized in the minority language I have studied many years in waking life… I didn’t know his name in the dream, but I knew he was very famous in his field. We talked and I told him a rather long narrative about how I feel like I’ve hit a plateau in my studies: that I could stop and say I have a foundation in the language, or keep going across the long plateau, which would be hard work, and then start advancing again with a lot of effort. The professor listened and gave me a thick, old tome that was filled with keys and knowledge about the language. He kept a newer shinier tome for himself, expressing frustration with it and the way the language has changed… but he said that was what he had to work on now and that I could have the older tome. I was overjoyed.
Then I was walking in daylight in another area, carrying my new language tome in a cloth bag (like the sort I often use for shopping). A friend I know passed me, dressed in bright blue/teal, chatting on a phone and did not acknowledge me. I reached an area near train tracks and tall buildings where people were going to celebrate the New Year and trying to catch trains downtown. I felt like I should join them, but I also realized in my heart that I just wanted to spend the New Year’s night reading my new language book. There was a confused bit about which train to catch before I woke up. I was, I admit, a bit disappointed to realize that the language tome does not exist in our world. Overall, though, I found the dream quite encouraging.
I remember parts of dreams from last night. In an earlier fragment, I was talking to a police officer who had found a stack of checks belonging to my old workplace. He was trying to figure out what to do with them and had no idea if they were active or connected to any accounts. I was worried that if he tried to cash them, my (former) coworkers would lose their pay. We discussed the idea of writing a check for a dollar and seeing what would happen, but he had to get a director’s approval first.
In a later fragment, I discovered a former coworker--who was communicative and a person I’d respected--working in a new office. He was in a large building with wide halls which felt like a huge conference center/hotel/business center. He was still at a computer, like the old job, but doing something else that seemed to involve watching over people. He tried to talk to me and I tried to listen, but I had to break away from the conversation to cough up some thick, not-quite-solid off-white organic matter caught in my lungs. Then I came back and we talked for a bit, and he was very understanding about the interruption. I woke up and remembered he had died a few years ago in part from an inoperable cancer in his chest. I also realized that if, I did wish to discuss something with a person who’d crossed over to the other side, he’d be the right person for it since we were colleagues with some compatible views and experiences.
Last night I had an unusual dream sequence. I was semi-lucid throughout.
It started with me facing a building and realizing that I was dreaming and feeling that I could find my Patron God somewhere in there. Inside, it turned out to be a carpeted office complex with meandering hallways, full of people briskly coming and going or working at their tasks. I made some turns down somewhat ornate hallways and found the office I was after. But my Patron God was out and there were some building staff there instead, with two new arrivals who needed counseling. I immediately knew I had a job and was entirely qualified for it: I escorted one of the new people, who started off looking female but turned into a short, plain-faced man with red hair and wide, somewhat shimmery gray eyes, to a room to talk. He told me he’d been in a hell—he even gave a name for it, which I forget—and said he’d expected it to keep on getting worse over time, but instead he had ended up here (in the building). I told him that he was looking for his Home and that the building was not a place to stay permanently, but he was quite skeptical and dismissive. Still, he did listen. I then perceived that he had to reflect on his spiritual beliefs and what they had been when he was alive. He didn’t like that. I told him he wouldn’t want to hear what I was saying, but that I knew I was dreaming and was actually asleep in a bed back in Midgard, so I did know what I was talking about. That carried more weight with him. Then I told him he had a lot of hard things to think about and we’d end the counseling session for now.
It’s interesting: I woke up from that particular dream sequence feeling somewhat mentally drained, but like I had done exactly what needed to be done. It’s difficult to convey the tone of the dream in writing, especially that odd feeling of being aware you are dreaming.
I’ll start with last night, but I have a number of dreams from the last week or so to record.
Last night I remember a dream of taking a long, exploratory walk near the ocean, though usually not quite in view of water. Unlike some of these dreams, where it is often dark, this one was set in the day and the sky was blue but the sun was slowly setting. My oldest friend was walking with me for part of the dream. I came across a home near the shore that was “my grandmother’s” (who is deceased in waking life). I saw her and knew she was dead, but she told me her grandmother was still alive. I was very startled and wanted to talk to my 4th-great grandmother before she too passed away. Then I was out walking again and was worried about running out of time before the sun fully set. I had my camera with me and was trying to find some pretty things to photograph. There was a forested park and mountains visible for this part of the dream. I think I was trying to get up the mountain about when I woke up.
Maybe some of this one has to do with recent pleasant surprises with genealogical research, but the grandmother in the dream was from the other side of the family.
Sometime last week or so, I had a powerful but scary dream in which I was staying upstairs in a home in Texas (not mine, I was a guest). I realized something felt wrong and looked in the mirror, only to see huge purple and black bruising across my chest. I knew I was having a heart attack and rushed downstairs to call 911. My oldest friend was in this one too. According to one dream interpretation book I have, the doubling often indicates that the dream is emphasizing that it is about the dreamer themselves: a sibling or a close friend can indicate that. Anyways, I was in a dining room and called 911. The dispatcher immediately put me on hold. Then when the dispatcher picked up again, they were really obtuse. It was clear that it was the person’s first day on the job, but they were also too prideful to ask for much help. In the meantime, I was losing my ability to even speak very clearly. I demanded their name and they said Gray Campbell (not any name I know from waking life… I think there is a pun on “compel” in the name). At one point I was so frustrated that I told the dispatcher I’d sue them if I actually survived, and the person thanked me for retaining them. I lost even more ability to speak and woke up.
In another dream from the past few weeks, I was in a large, strange home a bit like a farmhouse. My father (deceased in waking life) had his own room. I went in and the windows were open to a forest outside: hundreds upon hundreds of frogs had crawled in the room and then died. I could see their stiff, dried out bodies everywhere, very clear shades of spotted brown and pale cream. My “father’s” bed was empty and covered with spider webs, and a large dead spider hung above it. I thought to myself that I hoped he was not sleeping there anymore.
It may or may not relate to the dream, but I’ve been working on what should be the final round of papers for his estate lately.
Another recent dream, one which I felt positive about, as I was taking an active role in the dream and it had a good resolution:
In the dream, I’d parked my car in a smallish National Park area in an open city. The park area had green fields and was enclosed with a wire fence and had a guarded entrance point. It was supposed to be open until dusk. I parked there to go to a set of long, one-story historic-looking buildings made with red brick and with pillars. There was a blurry sequence there about a river and there were other people around.
At one point I went back to that parking lot and a security guard (male, I think) shot at me from the wood guard booth. I heard the shot, but nothing connected and I thought it might be a warning blank. I explained to the guard about my car being there and was not bothered further.
Later in the day, whatever was happening in the brick buildings was winding down and a bunch of people were leaving, including myself and a big bearded man with his wife and small daughter. When I reached the parking area, it was dusk, not quite dark yet, and the entrance was chained. Still, I tried to slip through and get to my car. A security guard shot at me again, this time a female guard, and I heard the bang really loudly again. It too did not strike me. I explained about the car: the woman guard had thought I was a threat, but she accepted my explanation. Then the person who really was a threat showed up, in the midst of several security guards and the people from the historic brick building: a thin, pale and sickly man grabbed someone’s gun because he wanted it and started threatening the people, including the family with the young girl. He was waving the gun he’d taken around and we didn’t know where he’d shoot. One of the security guards started talking him down. I ended up very close to him and could see that he didn’t have much hair left and that his eyes were a distinct shade of dirty yellow. The color was unusual. I looked him in the eyes and told him he didn’t want to hurt anyone and that he was not a bad person. I believed it, and he believed me. He left me take the gun and secure it off to my left, a bit out of his reach. He still wanted it but calmed down and everyone was O.K.
This past night I dreamt I was at a variation on a summer event I sometimes go to. It was a long trip to the site (like in waking life) and they were doing some sort of odd set-up involving an outdoor area with sections, a bit like a wheel, and making people move around. For some reason, I got fed up and decided to leave as soon as I’d arrived. There was another person there, a woman with smooth medium-brown hair in a short cut, that had come to the same conclusion and was also about to head out.
In another part of the dream, I was looking out a window, only it was sort of the event with people, but set in a room in a sort of a wild, mountainous place like Iceland. I could see the mountains very clearly out the window as the dark and the fog lifted, and they were colorful and snow-capped in front of blue sky. Then a storm was coming in, so dangerous that people needed to seek cover in the room. I saw what looked like 6- or 8- sided crystalline rock pillars coming down from the clouds. I wedged myself between a wall and a desk, anchoring the desk so that it would not fly around when the storm hit. Someone commented that this was a smart idea. No one seemed to be hurt in the storm.
Later, in another dream, I was in an odd store and found a carved piece that was somewhat interesting. I think it was a seal, but it had other features as well. It was slightly over a $100 which was more than I was quite willing to pay for it… I liked it in some ways but was not that taken with it.
I also remember a short sequence about a complex plucked string music at one point, perhaps a dulcimer. I woke up very quickly from that one, though.
Lawd, I'm On The Mindsay!
Survey Time: A Kind of New/Old Self Interview
Almost ten years...