Recent Dreams-- The Move

This is a dream I had a few nights ago, but since I've confessed to not recording lately, I'm going to continue to show that honesty by not changing the date and time on this post to the night I dreamed it. I am here recording past dreams, I'm not meant to adjust the clock on this one.

So a few nights ago, I dreamed that we were moving. Moving to a new house, far from here. It was a beautiful house, very big, in a nice, spread out neighborhood. There were lots of trees, and the entire area was shaded and cool. It was beautiful, and it felt good to be there. It felt peaceful.

It wasn't just us moving there though. Sure, it was me, hubby, and our two kids... but a girl from my past, with her two kids, was moving with us.

We were finally (mostly) settled into the house, enough to live comfortably. My hubby was already off at his new job during the day, and so me and the girl were trying to figure out what to do next. We knew the kids would have to get to school. She didn't have her own vehicle yet though, we only had my truck to rely upon, and it was one seat short. It couldn't fit me, her, and four kids. We began thinking about the school bus route, and if that was an option knowing our kids were still so young. We would have to get them to the bus stop, and maybe we could just walk to there from the house so we wouldn't need the truck.

But then we started thinking about money. I mentioned that she could get a job, and that if all the kids were in school, maybe I could get a job too. Hubby had a great job really, but I wanted to contribute in some way, and the girl would have to contribute on her own, because hubby would not pay everything for her.

Unfortunately that proved to be a bit of a challenge. Not only did she not have her own vehicle yet, but she still did not even have a driver's license. So I couldn't let her drive my truck if she found a job. She would have to hope it was within walking distance for now. It seemed as if a lot of things were still holding her back, and they became issues the more time went on. We needed a way to get the kids to and from school, a way to get her to and from a job, a way to get around for shopping and such, and on top of all that, I found a job that I had to get myself to and from. I'm not sure how I found a job before she did, because I'm fairly certain she was looking long before I was. But I got hired on somewhere, and though I don't remember where exactly, I remember liking it. It was a small dim-lit shop... it was either for pets, games, or books. I'm not sure which. They paid well enough though, and I did like it there. I decided to myself that what she did or didn't do was her business, as long as she paid her part of the rent and bills, and contributed for food.

I was proud of myself for all that I had accomplished. The move, the kids in school, the job so I could contribute to the household. Hubby was proud of me too. I think that made me feel better than the pride I had in myself.

Recent Dreams-- The Beast Within

I'm sorry that I haven't been recording my dreams lately. I've had a few, and when I wake up, instead of recording them I sit there and think about them, until I realize my day is passing me by, and I get up and get started on chores and other things... then I forget about the dream, and by the time I consider recording it, I tell myself I've forgotten too much.

Well I think I'll go ahead and write up at least what I can remember of the past couple I've had. It's only fair to the dream journal.

Last night I had a dream, that I was running from something. I was always moving, always traveling, always making sure I was lost in a sea of strangers. Late one night, while waiting for a ferry to come in and take me across a misty river, I met someone who recognized me. They said they were from my past, and though I couldn't quite place them, they were excited to see me--as if it was granting them some sort of closure to be able to talk to me. It shook me up, knowing that I had made an impact on someone's life. I didn't see how, I was making sure I never stayed in one place long, and I didn't want people to know me. They wouldn't like me if they knew me.

So I continued on, and this town I had come to seemed to have some military members conducting a government operation or experiment. From the whispers, I could just barely make out a few scattered phrases. "Dragon." "Escaped!" "Dangerous. Highly dangerous." I slipped into their main base of operations to see if I could find out more. It wasn't set up like a military base at all, but more like a science expedition. But there were children running around, a boy and a girl, chasing each other. I decided I'd go out into the field soon and look for this dragon myself, but first I had to go to the bathroom (certain womanly things I had no control over had to be taken care of) and of course I happened to find an oddly shaped bathroom, where you walk through the door into a small office area, with a spiral staircase that goes around the room to the actual bathroom area up top. There was no separate privacy up there, you just had to ensure the door was locked. I had to shoo the kids out first, because they had run into there to chase each other up and down the stairs. Luckily for me, the office apparently had women workers and came well-equipped for my needs.

I left the building shortly thereafter and went off near this grassy cliffside, where there was a small gathering of people discussing where the dragon may have gone. They seemed to be setting up a transparent cage of sorts, and of course without thinking I stepped inside to look around. This, ironically (or perhaps it was an act of fate?), was when the dragon came. It was a smart beast, and saw the cage for what it was. Everyone was running and screaming, because the beast itself was invisible and no one could see it. I could sense it. I crouched down in the cage, and felt the beast above. I could feel it in my mind. It was much smarter than they had given it credit for. It was going to push the cage over the edge of the cliff... unfortunately, I was still inside.

Just as I felt myself sliding towards what would surely be my death, I reached out to the beast, with my mind. I told it that I wasn't afraid of it, that I knew it was good, and that I wasn't ready to die. And it saved me. I fell over the side of the cliff, but the beast held the cage still for a few extra minutes before dropping it. Those few minutes gave me the time to realize while I was falling that I could suddenly fly. The dragon had given me the gift of flight! Or rather, the knowledge of how to use flight, propelled by our own thoughts. I think I was more shocked by the fact that we had this ability dormant in each of us already, than by the reality that I was, in fact, flying.

I was so excited, that I flew up, being able to sense in my mind where the dragon was, and flew over to it, and wrapped my arms around it's neck, crying words of thanks with grateful tears streaming down my face. I was feeling so much emotion, and the dragon seemed to almost laugh, as if it was somehow relieved. I felt a surge of love from it, and it was familiar. I knew who this was. The same person who had recognized me, from my past, was also this great beast. And suddenly, I could see him. He was no longer camouflaged for me, I could see every inch of him, all his scales and wings and deep burning eyes. It was trust that let me see past it. We left that place together, flew above it all, and came down in a shaded woodland area. He became human again, and thanked me repeatedly for what he thought I did. He kept telling me I saved him. We went our own ways that night, but with a new friendship that we both knew would last a lifetime.

Though I continued running after that extraordinary day, I went about it from a new angle. This time, I wanted people to know me. I wanted them to know who I was. To trust me. Because one day, if I too became a beast, I want people to remember me the way I was. Likeable and trustworthy. To know not to be afraid of me, and to talk to me. To help me identify the beast within, and be able to fly above the fear, above the pain, and above the hatred, and to be myself again. We all need the social interaction that helps us remember who we are.

The Kids and the War in the Yard

In the dream I had last night, I was afraid for my life, but more so for my children's lives. I knew it couldn't possibly be real, that it couldn't be actually happening, but the fear was there nonetheless. I think the beginning of it was set the way it was specifically to let me know that it was just a dream...

It started out at my dad's old house in Orlando. The same house I grew up in, that my sisters are still living in right now. I felt like I had been there for a while, hours at least, hanging out on the front porch with some friends. I knew it wasn't real because--for starters--three of my friends were characters from the TV show "Lost." Boone, Charlie, and Claire. You don't have to know who they are on the show, I'm just tossing out their names and a small bit about them, because I think they represent actual people. I think the two men represent traits in one person, and I think Claire represents a trait that I have. Boone and Charlie happen to be two of my favorite male characters right now. Boone was very protective of his stepsister and cared deeply for her, but lost his life in the first season of the show while bravely trying to reach out for help as the small wrecked plane he stood in dove nose-first over a cliff, breaking his body beyond repair. Charlie is a recovering heroin addict who found himself with his addiction after trying--and sadly, failing--to keep himself and his brother on the right track while becoming rock stars. He found a new meaning to his life when he got to know Claire, who was pregnant, and when she had her baby he kicked the heroin and became a wonderful father-figure to the child. Right at this moment though (I'm halfway through season 2), Charlie and Claire are having some problems and aren't speaking. But I think they will be alright. They just seem to be made for each other. Claire, on the other hand, is not one of my favorite characters. I don't hate her, though. My thoughts toward her are constantly changing. Some days I like her, other days I don't. Much the same way I feel about myself.

So we're on the porch, and the house starts to tremble. The ground begins to shake. I have never experienced an earthquake, but it's unnerving to have the very ground you walk on attempt to throw you off of the planet. We hang on to the columns supporting the small section of roof that covers the porch, and after a few short minutes (or was it hours?) the ground steadies itself again, and we begin to recover from the shock of having been through an earthquake. Until the gravity disappears.

It was like a failing magnet. The force holding us to the Earth was weakening, and we could all feel our feet rising off the ground. I laid against the concrete, wrapped my arms around a column, and began inching myself towards the front door. Down the street you could see people holding on for their lives, but there were greater numbers of unfortunate people who weren't able to hold on long enough, rising into the sky until they were out of view. Despite our best efforts to hold on to each other, Boone and Charlie lifted off into the sky, and as they got further and further away, all we could do was stare into their eyes, and feel the image of sadness and loss burning into our memories.

It was hard to continue wanting to hold on when Boone and Charlie were gone. But we fought to stay grounded anyways. Claire was slowing slipping away, and we knew that she was going to need our help before she decided to just let go. I reached out for her, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her underneath the porch. It seemed as if every inch I got closer to the front door of the house, the gravity was a bit stronger. After a hard struggle, we made it inside the doorway, and all returned to normal. It was just the act of getting inside that we had to fight for, it seems.

Claire disappeared off into the house, and I walked into the kitchen. There was a bed in here, and two men sleeping in it (they looked so much like Boone and Charlie...). They were fast asleep though, and I didn't want to wake them up. They seemed extremely tired, I thought they could use the rest. They deserved the rest. Just then I heard a loud crash, followed by what seemed to be an explosion. It came from the backyard. I walked to the french doors leading to the backyard, and as I opened them, the entire beginning of the dream slipped out of my mind and I stepped into this new traumatic dream experience.

There was an airport. A small one, by the looks of it, but a military one for sure. Lots of small planes the size of cars, and many machines off to the edges shooting rockets into the sky. The rockets took off into the distance, presumably to destroy an unseen enemy. But the planes... it was like every time a plane took off, it was only a matter of minutes before it came back down, falling out of the sky and often falling parallel to the ground, shooting past the backyard and exploding just a few houses down. The first thing I thought of was my children. Both of my boys were somewhere in the house, but I didn't know where, and I was screaming for them and searching for them. Then I saw them... and almost fainted.

In the backyard, on the left side, was a bunker. It was a very large metal/concrete container buried into the ground, with a large opening on top to climb inside. There were people already there... all four of my sisters, a few women with children I didn't recognize, and... both of my boys. The kids were poking their heads out of the opening, looking up at the planes and pointing or shouting. A few of the women were positioned on the sides of the opening, but still partway beneath the ground so that if a plane were to head their direction, they could duck down and avoid being decapitated. I was terrified that something would happen to my boys, terrified that they would lose their mother if I died before I reached them, and for half a second I considered trusting that they were safe there with the other children, and that I should stay where I was and wait out this warzone. But that thought was short-lived. I knew I needed my children and I knew they needed me. I waited for a plane to pass by, then I rushed out across the yard, dodging stray bits of shrapnel, till I finally made it to the bunker. I jumped down inside, pulling my kids further inside and hugging them tightly. I felt like we would be safe there, and I felt that my kids were much more safe with me there beside them, even though there was nothing I could really do if a plane crashed into us.

I closed my eyes for a second, and when I opened them again my kids were gone. I searched the bunker (it was small so it didnt take long) and I started screaming when I didnt see them. I looked out the opening and began frantically scanning the yard for any sign of my children. One of the women told me to calm down, that my children were fine, and pointed over to the house. Sure enough, I could see in through a window and see that my kids were on the back porch playing with a few other kids. I ran over to the house as fast as I could, thankful that I reached the door alive, and went in to be with my kids. I was terrified that a plane was going to crash into the house and take them from me, but people kept telling me to calm down. I turned around again, and my kids were back at the bunker. I didn't even think about it, I just ran out there and hid behind it.

I hadn't noticed before, but on the back side of the bunker, there was a steep hill, and a shallow waterway. It was just deep enough for a small canoe-like boat to float down it, and a few of the kids were laughing and asking to go to the park. A man in the boat was taking them back and forth, and there was someone at the park watching them. I didn't want my kids to go, and instead had them sit in the bunker with me. The war was almost over, and we could go to the park then. I merely blinked, and again my children were gone. Someone told me they went to the park, and with tears streaming down my face I stepped to the edge of the water and waited for the boat as it pulled up to the bunker, telling the man to take me to the park to my kids. He looked at me like I was crazy, worrying over nothing, but took me anyways. As the boat began to leave, I looked out over the yard again. There, against the back fence, was the bed with the two sleeping men. They were still sound asleep, even after all the noise and explosions and debris. Still sleeping. I wanted to wake them now, and pull them into the bunker to safety... but I had to protect my kids. And somehow I knew that they would be safe as long as they stayed asleep.

Then I woke up. I didn't make it to the park. The first thing I did this morning was check on the kids, and they were just fine. It was still scary though. Even knowing it was a dream, waking up and knowing that there was no way I could have ever thought it was real, it was scary.