On Dreaming (#8)

As I mentioned in an earlier post on dreaming, I keep a daily journal where I record such things as inspirations, revelations, and reflections. And since my dreams are constantly filled with these three things, I make every effort to record them. My last post on dreams had to do with beaches and my struggles with them. I must admit, before sitting down to write this post, I thought I was experiencing a drought of vivid dreaming, broken only by the three I experienced Thursday and Friday night of this past week. However, thanks to my journal entries, which I just now reviewed, my memory was easily refreshed. Over the past three weeks in question, I chronicled quite a few lucid dreams:

• One involving a messy litter box, and my attempt to clean it up (the dream occurred the night before I had to visit Walmart);
• Another had me setting up for an event, doing something wrong, and trying to lie about it to one of my peers (a debate about permanent and dry erase markers were somehow a part of it);
• In a barely remembered one, I found a child locked in an otherwise empty van, and I decided to break in free them (by driving around in circles in the parking lot);
• In a strange one, I went from cleaning a green pool with a former student, to feeling sorry for a group of young people running a concession stand alongside an empty field (apparently, my former mentor had required that they remain working, even though there were no costumers);
• Then there was the time Major Houlihan from MASH inspired me to march in a parade that ended up with me standing in a line outside a crowded pub (my party left me at the door, as they managed to find a place inside--I finally woke up just as I walked away disappointed);
• One night I dreamed I was in a car with someone who took a detour against my better judgement (we ended up driving through a crowded baseball field outside a school that was letting out for recess);
• Another night I dreamt of a conversation between my sister, my father, and me, about the film, The Godfather, and Edgar Allen Poe (the whole time we were outside in the pouring rain trying to get my sister into her car so she could drive home--I had an umbrella, which I used to keep my sister dry, but none from my father, who did not seem to mind);
• Finally, I experienced a dream where I found myself outside my friend's house at the end of a party, struggling to find a place to urinate. But, I was desperate to get it over with as quickly as possible, so I could spend some time with my friend, whom I was not able to hang out with at all that night (I ended up finding an extremely tight bathroom on the second floor, where I managed to start peeing, only to discover, halfway through, that the toilet was filled with children's toys--yeah, I'll spare you the details. After I cleaned up the mess, I went downstairs, and found my friend. Excited that I still had time, I began to speak. Suddenly the dream ended, and I woke up.)   

That last one had me feeling quite disappointed. But I could be reading too much into it. After all, that night I did end up having to get out of bed and use the bathroom. There may have been something else to that dream!

Anyway, now that I am aware that I have not experienced a draught these past two week, I can share my last three dreams. However, this review has not been in vain. It has given me some context in which to evaluate these past three dreams. Trust me, there is plenty to think about.

Confessions (#8)

"Sometimes you can think someone is totally cool, but you never become besties."

    ~ Finn to Prismo, Adventure Time

"between two people."

    ~ the bottom half of my fortune from the only fortune cookie that was in the order (the top         half was cleanly cut off)

My two daughters and I were able to experience a tradition this past Wednesday night: order in Chinese food and watch episodes of Adventure Time. While the food was not as good as our usual fare (we decided to try an old place, because it delivers), the entertainment was every bit as good as I remembered. A quote from one particular episode from that night stuck out. That is why I  shared it above. I guess I never caught it the six other times I watched it. Maybe my mind was not ready to make the necessary connections until that night. Perhaps my soul was finally willing to listen to such a profound and humble truth. But, at that moment, I came to realize the countless times I tried to fight against that truth, and how it caused me and other people pain. 

Jealously can blind you; resentment can paralyze you; bad expectations can lead you astray. 

However, with the help of this blog, and some experiences these past several years, I have been able to come to terms with this essential truth. 

But that is not what today's post is about. I will save the above revelation for another day. In the meantime, here is another confession. In the form of a dialogue... between two people. One is cool. The other wants the first to be their bestie.

(Came across this painting by Edvard Munch--the one who did the famous "The Scream" painting--when I did a search for famous art works of friendship. I find the image below both beautiful and relevant.)

Meandering Thoughts (#4)

On Wednesday, February 17, 2021, an influential man, seventy years of age, died from lung cancer. Millions adored him, while other scorned his very existence. Controversial in life, his death would inspire people to praise his accomplishments, and rant about his sins. I have spent the past four days dwelling on what his death means to me, struggling to put into words my thoughts about him and his deeds. Please forgive me. Being neither particularly witty nor skillfully clever, and desiring deeply to meet tonight's deadline, I leave you with the following.

(Although it is not necessary, if will help if you read the NPR article linked above, especially a quote near the beginning given during a 2007 NPR interview.)

On Dreaming (#7)

There is something awesome about the sea. Although I have never ventured out onto it, I understand when sailors say it beckons them. Throughout my childhood, I would dig deep into the sand.  By throwing a heavy towel over it, I would hide myself away from the world. The droning sound of crashing waves muffled out the cacophony of anxieties, expectations, and responsibilities. There, in that makeshift emotional grave, I would flee the coils of the real world, and embrace the comforting realm of daydreams. When adulthood arrived, the covered pits in the sand became too small to hold my body and imagination. Instead, they were replaced by late nights lounging on dark balconies beyond the tides' reach, but still in earshot of the pounding surf. With the veil of those childhood beach towels long discarded from my view, I basked in sights as well as sounds:  the dying stars above, glowing lights of night life in the distance, bouncing points of flashlights moving along the dark beaches, and the near endless stretches of blackness punctuated constantly by the white crests of passing waves. With a wall of glass to deafen the sounds of TVs and voices from within the room behind me, and the several stories of floors below me to keep out the handful of adventurous souls walking the beach at night, I would, just as in those moments as a child, lose myself in daydreams.

No wonder my most vivid dreams involve the sea.

(Two paintings from the Spanish painter, Joaquin Sorolla. The composition of this particular one contrasts sharply with the rest of the post. I shared the second one, because I love the way the girl in the red jacket stands out in an already beautiful scene.)

Meandering Thoughts (#3)

redux: brought back; revived.

deja vu: a feeling of having already experienced the present situation; tedious familiarity.

duplicate: to make double or twofold; to produce something equal to; to do over or again often needlessly.

It snowed today. All day. So there was a lot of shoveling. The house had to be cleaned. The entire house. That includes vacuuming, moping, and scrubbing things down.  Then there was the laundry. And the meals. Which included buffalo wings, followed by bloating. Lots of bloating. Finally, there is this blog post. It sounds a little like last week's piece. Except... I am sick of shoveling.

(I love this illustration. Shared it in this post from way back.)

 

Meandering Thoughts (#3)

The oncoming storm threatens to drop nearly two feet of snow. There will be a lot of shoveling tomorrow. But I do not mind doing that kind of work. In addition, there are other projects to start, plans to be made, and chores to be completed. Writing, reading, and drawing are somewhere on that long list. I will need a lot of energy, and the will to focus. Therefore, I am shutting down for the rest of the night. That means I am leaving you with a disjointed mess. A dream, a movie, an unfinished goal, and lots of food. That is what makes up today's post. Enjoy.

(Here is a link to famous paintings of winter scenes. Beautiful. Below is one image from that website, a work done by Francois Boucher. And for contrast, I included one by George Morland.)

On Dreaming (#6)

Since restarting this blog, I have been keeping a journal on my computer. Within the journal, I have four sections that I try and fill each day. One is a table which contains a checklist of daily tasks and projects I want to accomplish. Another part contains my initial thoughts for the day and a record of how well I slept. I call it "Meditations". The third section, which gets filled in before retiring to bed, I have labeled "Reflections", and it covers noteworthy events that transpired that day. Finally, nestled between those two categories, is "Dreams". That is where I collect any dreams I can remember from the night before, and write them out in detail.

While that section does not get filled daily, many a dream has been collected there over the past nine months. So far I have shared four of them on this blog (Dream 1, Dream 2, Dream 3 & 4, and Dream 5).  Today I am going to write about another relevant and timely one that I experienced last Thursday morning.

Confessions (#7)

Yeah, I have yet to purchase, let alone try on, a new pair of jeans--literally, and metaphorically. And it has little to do with any fears. It would seem recovering from events in December required more time than I thought. Also, those events inspired me to slip back into some old habits. So, I have begun to climb back out of a hole I dug. Hopefully next weekend finds me readjusted and on track again. After all, it is a new year.

Meanwhile, here is a lighthearted confession.

(I have shared another one of Norman Rockwell's "teacher" illustrations before. Here is another one I discovered recently.. I am enjoying it immensely, particularly the composition and placement of the various students, especially the two girls sitting alone. But also how the other "children"--there are at least two, a boy and a girl, who look more mature than the others--are gathered and focused on the teacher. If you have some time, click on image below, you will be able to see a series of illustrations from Rockwell and other artists depicting schoolchildren. There is an interesting unpublished painting by him, and another one called "A Russian Classroom".)

Revelations (Part 1)

“There is a greater darkness than the one we fight. It is the darkness of the soul that has lost its way. The war we fight is not against powers and principalities, it is against chaos and despair. Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, the death of dreams. Against this peril we can never surrender. The future is all around us, waiting in moments of transition, to be born in moments of revelation. No one knows the shape of that future, or where it will take us. We know only that it is always born in pain.”

    ~ G'kar, from the television series, Babylon 5 

Dr. Stephen Franklin: "It's all so brief, isn't it? Typical human lifespan is almost a hundred years, but it's barely a second compared to what's out there. It wouldn't be so bad if life didn't take so long to figure out. Seems you just start to get it right and then .. it's over."

Lt. Commander Susan Ivanova: "Doesn't matter. If we lived two hundred years, we'd still be human.

We'd still make the same mistakes." 

Dr. Stephen Franklin: "You're a pessimist."

Lt. Commander Susan Ivanova: "I am Russian, Doctor. We understand these things."

    ~ Scene from the television series, Babylon 5

(No political statement here. I just find this painting powerful, beautiful, and haunting. Something about the woman in the foreground standing over the dead woman.)

Happy New Year!

No lists of resolutions. Nor rants about this past year. Just some thoughts to sober me up after spending a week in a drunken stupor. Hoping to have a better post or two as this new week unfolds. Until then...

(Spent thirty minutes of my time today reading about the Battle of Monmouth. Very exciting stuff. Here is some stuff about the suffragettes in the UK, and how they were forced fed during their hunger strikes. Not that anyone was forcing me to eat this past week..)