On Dreaming (#23)

All three fortunes came from Friday's order; the bottom two from the same fortune cookie. Since I opened the first one on August 2nd, I guess I will have to wait until September for this "deep sense of fulfillment. Also, not sure what I should do with sincerity, in order to gain the "greatest reward". Finally, as you will soon find out, if opportunities showed up this past Saturday, then I missed out on them, because I was distracted most of the day. Or, since yesterday's events inspired today's blog post--which I was tempted to skip--, perhaps that is the opportunity mentioned in the last fortune...

I spent most of yesterday in my pajamas, and accomplished nothing beyond feeding the cats first thing in the morning. Around five o'clock in the evening, I decided to get up out of my bedroom recliner, walk down two flights of stairs, get dressed into my workout clothes, and start walking on the treadmill for the next fifty minutes. Perhaps it was my body odor that inspired me to move. Or maybe that strange fatigue that comes from being lazy all day. But, if I had to bet, the the need to silence the self-hating dialogue running through my head motivated me.

Well, it paid off. Afterwards, I showered and changed. Then I sat in my bed, and watched a bunch of YouTube videos on woodworking. Okay, that does not sound productive to many of you. However, the information in those videos were relevant to the projects on my to-do list. I wrapped up the evening with a long entry in my journal. Finally, having slept poorly the night before, I made sure to fall asleep early.

Today, I woke up bright and early, well rested, too. Started off by taking care of the cats—it is the story of my life. Soon after, however, I found myself outside, in my pajamas, pruning my cucumbers, pulling weeds, and adding fertilizer to the garden. Then I cleared out some garbage from the shed and basement. By noon, I was dirty and sweaty, ready to grill up some boneless chicken thighs. Afterwards, the heavens unleashed a downpour. That signaled the end of my productivity. It was a good run. Better than yesterday.

Yet, here I am, six o'clock in the evening, typing away, creating another blog post. I almost skipped it. But, I needed something to do while I waited for the brownies to cool off. A part of me wanted to spend it watching a movie or television show. However, another part of me realized I would waste that time trying to find something perfect to watch. For procrastinators, perfection is the enemy of productivity. Instead, I made my way to the basement, placed an ice pack on my lower back (did I mention how I threw out my back while weeding?), and started blogging.

Originally, the topic of this post was a series of dreams I had during the week. However, while writing the introduction, something else took shape. Since the goal of this blog is to inspire me to write, I am fine with the redirection all this took.

Yet, the brownies have not cooled (so I have time), the internet is still down from the passing thunderstorm (so uploading will have to wait anyway), and those dreams were quite profound (why pass up a chance to be vulnerable). I will try and keep their descriptions brief.  

The Three Dreams

The first dream began in an industrial part of a city. One of my daughters and I were standing beside a woman who spoke with a Russian accent. Suddenly, an alien ship, in the shape of a rectangle, and the size of a house, appeared overhead. All three of us began to run, together, weaving down streets, ducking down alleys, running through buildings. Eventually, we found ourselves in the house of the Russian woman. Her husband and daughter were there. Suddenly, I felt guilty, as if I had brought the danger upon them. But, when I apologized, the husband ignored it, and took us deeper into the house, into an atrium-like space. There, we waited. Only briefly. I knew staying would get everyone killed, so, I led my daughter and the Russian woman out the backdoor, into a street lined with trees, into certain death. Yet, as soon as the alien ship reappeared, I found a massive weapon in my hands, which I promptly fired at the ship. And continued to fire, like a machine gun. While my attack kept the alien ship form firing on us, I knew I would run out of bullets. Finally, the ship flew away, just as my ammo ran out. With the aliens gone, the three of us continues out escape, moving through empty buildings, further away from the Russian woman's house. Eventually, my two companions began to let their guard down. They started laughing and moving about slower, with less purpose. On the other hand, with each step, I felt more anxious. In one building, filled with glass windows, their antics were too much. Angry and frustrated, I yelled at them, pointing out the danger that still remained. And with my shouts, a searchlight filled the hallway. The alien ship had returned. Running to a window that looked outside, I discovered a courtyard. The alien ship had its lights focused on an object outside the building. That object was the daughter of the Russian woman. She was being used as bait, and I would have to decide whether to surrender and die, or sacrifice the little girl. Fear and rage filled me. I thought, if we had only been quiet all this time. Then I woke up.

In the second dream, I was sitting at a table in a waiting area of a school building. Across from me sat a former friend. Other people were milling about, oblivious of our presence. The two of use were talking about school, or teaching. Something. Anything. Whatever it was about, the conversation made me feel happy. Then they told me that they had purchased a gift for a niece, Or a friend's daughter. I can't remember. Actually, they were TRYING to buy one, but it was too expensive. In order get one cheaper, my friend would not be able to select the design of the gift. I pointed out that they should just pay the extra money, otherwise, their niece (or friend's daughter), might end up with something silly. They said, “too late!” and pulled out some ridiculous contraption, like out of a Dr. Seuss story. When I shook my head, my former friend began waving it in my face. It was all so silly, but also fun. We both began laughing, and as the dream faded, my final thought? "Why couldn't it still be like this?"

The third dream took place in an open hall on a cruise ship (something I refuse to experience in real life). My former friend, from the previous dream, and my parents, were standing near me. We had just decided to see a show together. But, as I pointed out, we needed to change (I think we were all in bathing suits). With those words barely out of my mouth, my friend and parents disappeared. I felt alone, and anxious. I still needed to get dressed, and I did not want to be late for the show. However, I did not know where my room's location, only that it was further down in the ship. I began moving in a direction, and eventually found two elevators. Both were open and empty. The one on the left was a foot lower than the floor, and the lights were flickering. The one on the right was dim, but otherwise appeared safe. I walked into the second one. Once inside, I noticed the buttons were not working. It was broken. But I was so desperate to make this show on time, that I entered the first one. As soon as I did, the floor began to fill with water, while the lights flickered even more. Needless to say, I jumped out.

Back in the hallway, I began to panic. I needed to find stairs. Soon, I found myself crossing a dining hall—there were staff members, but no customers. They were clearly setting up for some event. I hesitated, I did not want to get in their way. However, on the other side of the room was a doorway with an exit sign over it. Desperate, I began weaving between the people and the tables, apologizing for interfering with their work. But my apologies seemed to make it worse. As if they rather I not talk to them at all. Finally, I reached the exit, which stood behind a heavy red curtain. Pushing it aside, and stepping forward, I found myself on a flight of wide, carpeted stairs, that curved around to my left. There was a landing at the bend, and that is where I stopped, stricken with more anxiety. How many flights should I be taking? Which floor was my room? Stopping and searching each level would take too much time. I refused to be late for this show. I began emptying my pockets in the hopes of finding a map (I love maps, and make it a point to acquire one, or at least look over it, whenever I am at a new place). Lots of papers began falling to the floor, and I began to worry about losing them. They seemed important.

That's when another anxiety took hold. Here I was kneeling on a flight of stairs, spilling papers everywhere. Someone will end up tripping over me. And with that thought popping into my head, and older woman, in an evening gown and heels, appeared, and walked right past me. I watched, frustrated, scared, as she moved through the curtains at the next level. When she opened them, it was obvious to me that it was not my floor. I would have to keep going down.

Doubt, frustration, despair, they all set in as tried to make a decision. Suddenly, it all went dark, and I woke up.

[Okay, these descriptions were longer than I thought. Sorry.]