October, 2011

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10/1/11 - Title: "Fall Guy"

I'm in a two-story building of some sort, perhaps a warehouse in an industrial district. There is a sense of hazard. The sky is overcast. All is in darks and lights. On the roof there is a disabled man. Uncertain how he happened to be up there. He has a mental disability, maybe a physical one too. His judgment at least is limited. There is a good chance he'll fall. A few others (at least a couple, maybe three or four) are here inside the building. A general concern about the well-being of the incompetent man on the roof. We need to see if we can coax him down, wanting to avoid anyone else needing to go up and possibly falling and being badly hurt too. There is not much hope. It seems likely at least the mental guy will be badly hurt.

10/9/11 - Title: "Wounded Warrior"

I am in the basement level of the University Co-op Bookstore, in the textbook department (where I worked several years, putting myself through college). I see Carl, doing inventory. He has (is holding) a pen and a clipboard and, using his left hand, is making notations on the clipboard paper.

[I worked at that bookstore at various times off and on, part-time or full-time, from about age 18, in 1962, till around 1972, when I finally finished my undergrad. degree.

Carl was smart, easygoing, well respected and liked, mature, conscientious, a fast worker, and had lost one lung from a war wound. His was a full-time position. He was in his late forties or his fifties and so about 20-30 years older than most all the student employees, who normally worked part-time. He kept himself fit except that, as I recall, he smoked, probably also something he picked up during wartime, and he would die a few years later from disease in his remaining lung. He was at first, when I was there, like the assistant to the assistant manager of the department. After the fat manager (whom employees called "Big Ass" because of his large buttocks plus its sounding like the letter he used for signing off on things, with a big "S" flourish, instead of writing out his whole last name) died (a heart attack, I think), Carl became the assistant manager. Interestingly, the man who replaced The Big Ass as manager died a few years later too, still relatively young, of liver disease or some other complications from alcoholism.

My first thought on waking from the dream was that it had to do with managing my wife's and my investments, down some during this "Great Contraction," and that it suggested I needed to monitor them more closely, with short-term targets, so that, by more frequent trading, I might build them back up more quickly.

As for the deeper or inner meaning of the dream, it seems to indicate I have a wounded shadow. He has a number of favorable qualities but also continues in some self-destructive behavior or attitudes. That Carl was writing with his left hand suggests greater access to intuitional or previously unconscious material.]

10/11/11 - Title: "That Train Has Already Left the Station"

Alone. Being sad and/or crying (about something). A sense of there not being enough time, of its now being time (for something), or of having waited till too late, and that now there is no more time (for something). Late afternoon. Overcast with light rain. An industrial setting. Lights and darks. No color.

10/12/11 - Title: "Buffett Light"

Warren Buffett is bothered by some unpleasant publicity and adverse, hounding interests from reporters and individuals who have a beef with him.

I go to see him in a business district and ask a woman on the second floor if he is available, but she says he is not in at that point. He and I have an informal, friendly relationship. I ask her to let him know I was there and if there's anything I can do to assist.

Later, I am at a rooming house or hotel, in my room. A guy comes by who is one of those with a beef against Buffett and I send him away. I wonder how he even knew I know Buffett. I go do something.

A little later still, I'm in my hotel (or rooming house) room, off a long hall of such rooms' entrances on a second floor, when Buffett stops by.

I open the door and let him in, and he starts right in telling me about some of his woes and his plans for dealing with them. We chat for a half-hour to an hour, and then he leaves, but with my permission he takes with him all the typed up notes, a whole book's worth, of a project I've been working on, some business plan or other in which he has an interest. Or it may be something he had asked me to get for him, and I was able to do this for him. I mention to him that he has my only copy. He assures me he'll be careful with it.

After he leaves, I hear something behind a screen or a mirror and discover that in the bathroom or walk-in closet back there a man has been hiding and recording the private conversation I've been having with Buffett.

I am incensed and tell him to destroy the tape or film, but he gets away from me out to the hall, though not before I threaten to expose him for slander and trespass if he tries to use any of our conversation against Buffett. He has been planning to use it to sue Buffett and now looks at me in some alarm that I might make it so he cannot use the new info (that he's just stolen) to undermine Buffett.

There has already been some publicity about this guy, and I know his name, and I tell him I'll write-up a memo for record about the incident and how he had invaded my room and hidden to steal info about Buffett and use it against him. (His name sounds like McConnell but is not exactly that.) I know this guy will ultimately not be successful against Buffett, but meanwhile he could be a real nuisance with his recording of our conversation.

[Warren Buffett, in my view, is one of the good guys, as hugely successful billionaires go. He is giving away most of his wealth to charity (in the form of the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation). He is a genius about all things related to investing and yet enjoys being a teacher and putting even the most complex financial jargon into clear, concise explanations or folksy wisdom. His approach to business is mostly the ideal for what anyone would want the rich and powerful to be: accountable, responsible, ethical, well-intentioned, an excellent leader, good for his shareholders, and a positive influence on the wider business community.]

10/17/11 - Title: "Lost and Found"

Scene one - I have lost my dog. Efforts to find him are unsuccessful.

Scene two - I am going through a neighborhood at night. It is like I am a burglar. In the process, I go through a woman's home. There is a Benji-looking dog there that takes an interest in me as I am going through the house, though he does not make a commotion. Nonetheless, the woman becomes aware I am there and that there is an attraction between me and the dog. It is not my dog (lost in scene one) or the woman's, but it is as though this dog has lost its home and wants to be with me, just as I have lost my dog and want to be with it.

Scene three - Most is forgotten, but it seems I have been apprehended, and yet people are giving me character witness reports, speaking in court on my behalf. One lady mentions that I was missing my dog, as though this in itself explains the trouble I have gotten into, and that the Benji-like dog liked me and I it, and it needs a good home.

Scene four - It is nighttime. I am in bed in my room in a large rooming house. The light from the hall comes in through my open doorway as someone apparently is coming into my room. It is the lady from scene two. She is carrying the Benji-like dog under her left arm and is about to leave him with me.

[I think of Benji as being well trained, intelligent, very loyal, playful, light and small and so easy to carry, curious, affectionate, and devoted to its owner.]

10/18/11 - Title: "All We Have Is Now"

Scene one - The end is at hand. It has something to do with creatures that have gotten into everyone's water and had affected us before anyone knew. People are already disappearing. We don't know if they are dying off or simply each taking off for one last bit of adventure before we die. I am in the military. I am carrying on as usual, except that I use little excuses to spend more time alone, meditating, or to talk with a few friends, for what may be our final chances to see one another.

Scene two - Scientists have learned and then have predicted that the end is coming, almost here. We now have just weeks or days left. Mostly, people are taking it rather calmly. I am a teacher of elementary school students. Have decided not to teach about the looming catastrophe but instead to carry on with our lessons normally. Kids are good at living in the present. Why change that?

10/19/11 - Title: "Almost Reunited"

I am (in the dream) about 20 years younger than my actual present age. Something has kept me and Maria apart for quite awhile. Now, however, we are reunited. I pick her up from the workplace (not our real workplace) and am going to drive us home (hers? mine?) in my Volkswagen Beetle. We are so in love and happy to be together!

There are major problems at her (and my?) workplace, though. Crucial communications between the backroom operations and the front customer service area have been lost. With difficulty, I go through various obstacles to get from the back to the front and so let the manager know (in the front area) how bad the breakdown in. He is now considering what to do about it.

My going home with Maria will have to wait till the worst of the workplace crisis can be resolved. I think there will have to be an "end run" solution, a movement to the side (on the left side, from the point of view of those in back, looking forward, the right side, from the perspective of those in front, looking back), arcing out from the regular customer service area (kind of like a bank lobby, with entrances/exits, open spaces, and lots of big windows) and then back around to reconnect with the functional operations area behind, since direct access and communication between the two areas is blocked.

[Maria, several years younger than I, was a co-worker in the last few years when I worked as a disability examiner for the state. Physically and emotionally, we worked closely. She and I never had an affair, partly because I had a bit of responsible restraint and partly due to her being Catholic and only wanting to go further with the relationship if we were definitely about to wed. Maria is Hispanic, bright, personable, spontaneous, feminine, efficient, sexy, sensitive, warm, and has a great sense of humor. We were always "just friends," but remained emotionally close. However, we have not seen each other or even communicated for over 9 years. To have kept in touch privately once I had retired did not seem right, and it was clear she too felt it better to let things completely lapse. I think I saw her from a distance in the HEB supermarket near us recently. She was pushing a large shopping cart with a couple young kids in it and looked happy.]

10/25/11 - Title: "I Too Was Once As Innocent As This"

I am an observer one evening of a small group of college (and college age) friends, or I'm there too and having a hard time bridging the generation gap and not coming across as just a cynical and dirty-old-man. I here (hear) an idealistic, sweet, pretty young think (thing) tearfully confess: "So... (gulp) I think my dad is a really, really, really, really, really big phoney (phony)!"

[All I am getting from this so far is that I have an anima, there to show me - by example or counter-example - right feeling, who is innocent, tearful, young, in a program of higher learning, and quite emotional about her perception of her dad as not being a person of integrity.

I suppose there may be something of a pun in the word phoney too, i.e. having to do with communication: phone-y, particularly since the word is spelled wrong.

It is also possible her "dad" is not really her biological father but is instead her "old man," i.e. her boyfriend, in which case this could even refer to me (though I was not in the dream aware of that relationship with her), with whom she may be having a sort of lovers spat and perhaps is not getting her way about something, so she accuses him of being "phoney" relative to her expectations, rather than relative to something about which he himself has shown some falseness.]

10/26/11 - Title: "Waiting for an Evergreen Wedding"

Scene one - I am in a wooded area of the Pacific Northwest. Newly opened dirt logging roads provide open spaces amid large young trees, already as big as mature junipers. They are only about 10 or so years old and could eventually become huge sequoias if not harvested first. Above the trees, the sky is clear, bright. The temperature is pleasantly cool.

I'm here for a wedding, not mine. It is unclear just where and when it will be. It's set for somewhere around here today. It's to be a gathering of "Yuppees (Yuppies)." I'm on the fringe of this setting, not close to the wedding principals or their friends.

Scene two - I'm philosophical about not knowing exactly where/when the wedding is to be. I have stopped for a beverage at a little coffee shop. Its door is open. Big picture windows look out onto the trees.

I am talking with a younger woman (Diane?) and perhaps also with friends or a few new acquaintances. We are relaxed, casual, talking of the wedding and of not knowing just when/when (when/where) it is. I had looked for signs about it or of it among the roads/trees. Maybe we're early.

Scene three - I am observing the bride-to-be. She is thin and defensive, dressed in her white wedding dress, obviously angry. She is talking to someone in my direction, not me, a woman I think, maybe her mother or her mother-in-law to be or her friends, acquaintances. She yells "Yes, I have been violent. I'm not now."

[Diane is one of my nieces. She is a lovely young lady, in her late 20s, who tends to fluctuate between being thin and beautiful and obese and unattractive, the latter the norm. She had lost her excess weight and kept it off for a few years, landed a husband, had a baby, and then began to put the weight back on. She is at times efficient, is very extroverted, passionate, of above average intelligence though by no means brilliant. Diane tends to be strongly opinionated about certain things. She is the one who holds things together in her family, looking after her young child, bringing in the paycheck, keeping up with family and friends, being a good mother-in-law to her unemployed husband's two boys from a prior marriage, putting up her mom and her father living in her home, since they lack one of their own, etc. Her juggling act is challenging lately, as she and her hubby do not have enough money on her income alone. This overall situation is becoming quite stressful.

Of Yuppies, I'd say they are upper middle class, mostly white people with a sense of entitlement, narcissistic, who kind of take for granted being among the upper crust, and who have a variety of superficially positive values, so long as these do not inconvenience them and their self-indulgences.

In thinking more about this dream, as well as what has been going on in my life lately, the primary concerns I am dealing with both internally and externally, I see that it is about seeing (or not seeing) the beautiful forest for the issues of the family trees.]

10/28/11 - Title: "Protecting the Scene (Seen?)"

A man at the front announces it is time for me to do this.

I am in a room about 25 by 75 feet. Others are there too, quite a few, and they need to adjust where they are standing periodically as I unfold and spread a couple special, writ large blankets or quilts, till they cover the entire floor of the room with double the thickness of a blanket throughout. I think it may also be Christmas time and that I (the) blankets must be worked under or around the gifts and Christmas evergreen tree.

They are really thick, these blankets or quilts, so under them one feels plenty snug and warm.

Also, something about them has to do with retaining the evidence of a crime that has been committed. It is as though the room is (was) a crime scene and now everything there is protected by the blankets till the police, at their liesure (leisure), can check things out thoroughly.

[25 x 75 = 5 x 5 x 3 x 5 x 5 = 4 times [5 x 5], which suggests 3, 4, and 5, and hence: transformation, manifestation in reality, and creativity or waiting.

Double or two = dawning awareness.

This covering of things up under big blankets is kind of like putting things (or sweeping things) under the carpet or rug.

The man at the front may be my HP.

Leisure is misspelled like "lie sure," in case that may be relevant. Certainly the crime scene has potential evidence which, while it remains covered, may "lie sure" till the police arrive to examine it. In what other ways, I wonder, might there be a meaning to "lie sure" in the dream?

Folks needing to adjust where they are standing suggests a need to revise more than one stance, our opinions about or ways of looking at various things.

Quilts is very like a plural form of guilt, in case that may be pertinent.

It is unlikely merely a coincidence that the just previous dream as well as this one include one or more evergreens, but so far I do not understand the significance of this type tree in my latest dreams.]

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