Archives for posts with tag: dream a little dream
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A Recurring Dream

July 24, 2026 //
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I have this recurring dream, it turns up now and then, neither a nightmare nor pleasant, nor even hinting at illumination. It’s just a dream, but it haunts me and has since the very first time I heard the adhan in the desert.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

For some time, (weeks? months? years.) I’ve dreamt that I am walking barefooted across hot desert sand. It is dawn. I walk between rows of ancient stone columns. I hear the call to prayer, at first faintly, becoming louder, as I walk. I feel a breeze against my body. Walking takes effort. I walk towards the sound. I feel tears dripping down my face. I keep walking, east, towards the rising sun. As I crest a hill or dune or reach the edge of something, the light of day spills over into a valley spreading out below me. There are bodies everywhere. There is blood, so much blood. I stand there feeling betrayed and forsaken, hearing the adhan wailing across the desert, bereft. Mournful. The call to prayer goes on, reaching across the desert, across the world… but no one comes. I weep, and see that my hands are covered in blood.

I generally wake at that point, drenched in sweat, hands slick with it, eyes stinging with tears. It’s been years now. I was in the desert when I first had this dream. I woke from it, actually hearing the adhan in the distance. It seemed to call to me, personally.

… How is that not a nightmare, you may wonder. I promise you my nightmares are worse. This dream feels more poignant and deeply sorrowful than frightening…

Last night I woke during the night, from my dream of hearing the adhan as I walk through the desert. No tears, just a deep and abiding sorrow and the weight of collective guilt. I exhaled slowly, letting it go, before returning to sleep. This morning I woke to the soft sound of my Traveling Partner’s voice, a far more comfortable way to wake up. I dressed and began my day, but in my memory that call to prayer lingers, along with the guilt.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The sun begins to rise on a new day, pearly pink with hints of orange, pale and pretty. A new day. I walk as the sun rises. The trail is firm beneath my feet. The breeze smells of mown grass and summer flowers. The only sound I hear is my tinnitus. I’m here, now. No bombs, drones, or flyovers, here. Sadly, that isn’t true everywhere.

I sigh to myself and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, grief, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Post Traumatic Stress, Summer, War and News of War, Words

Some Monday

April 13, 2026 //
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I am awake. I’m groggy and clumsy with sleepiness I haven’t been able to shake off yet. Initially, I wasn’t sure what woke me from my deep sound sleep. I rarely get such sleep. I struggled to sit up, to disentangle myself from the hose of my CPAP mask. When I sat up the room was dark. What the hell woke me? I had a vague recollection of hearing my name called, and trying to understand what was being said to me.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I got up, dressed, and left the house, still wondering what woke me. My Traveling Partner messaged me on the way out. It wasn’t an apology for waking me. It was information about his poor sleep through the night. Context? The timing suggests he did indeed wake me, and it’s pretty close to my usual time, anyway. I shrug it off, yawn, and pull out of the driveway. Maybe my walk in the fresh Spring air will wake me more thoroughly?

… Sucks that he had a bad night, though…

I sat stupidly at the trailhead, in my car, for rather a long time before I was clearheaded enough to recall that taking actual steps would be required. I just wasn’t awake. Once I noticed I was “stalled”, I grabbed my cane and set off down the trail, my mind still quite foggy.

It’s a beginning.

Down the trail, past blooming cherry trees, and tall oaks. Past vineyards with tall green grass growing between the rows. Along the creek and the strip of forest growing along the bank, I walk listening to the loud calls of the robins and softer calls of a variety of small brown birds. Eventually, I reach my halfway point and stop for a moment. Mostly awake by this point, I sit and write, meditate, and reflect. New day, new challenges…

… Lovely weekend, now over…

It is a Monday. No dread, really, but little enthusiasm, either. I’m here. I’m ready to do the things, but the day ahead doesn’t fulfill any particular purpose of my own. It’s a job. I do the work, collect a paycheck, and live my life. I chuckle to myself, without merriment. Humanity could do better than this.

I sigh to myself. The air tastes sweet and I wish I were headed for some destination, and not to a desk and a digital workspace. I’d rather be at my easel or in my garden. I’d rather be sleeping in or drinking too much coffee at some sidewalk cafe in some forgotten little beach town somewhere, or hanging out with friends beside a crackling fire. This is not that time and I let it go. Clinging to some other moment or some desired moment that is not now robs me of the chance to savor this one. I smile and look at the many signs of Spring around me. A carpet of tiny yellow flowers in the grass beckons me to sit awhile… The clock is ticking, though, and I’ll soon have to begin again. It is, after all, a Monday.

One moment of many, insignificant by itself.

I get to my feet with a sigh, a yawn, and a sneeze, and turn to head back down the trail the way I came. It’s time.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Words

The Weight of a Dream

April 15, 2024 //
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I woke abruptly with a sharp intake of breath and an instant of panic. It was just a dream, but definitely of a sort with the oomph to be alarming. I’d simply dreamt that I was facing an accounting of all the things I’d left undone in a lifetime: broken promises, missed deadlines, failed commitments, moments of procrastination that never became fulfilled endeavors, that kind of thing. It was… a bit overwhelming, honestly. I suspect my dream was simply because today is Tax Day, an annual accounting and a major ritual of modern adulthood. Still, it was seriously distressing to be faced with what felt like an endless list of shit I hadn’t done, failed to do, did incorrectly or at the wrong time, all the missed deadlines, all the broken promises, all the baggage… fuuuuuuck.

I woke in a sweat, feeling disoriented and more than a little relieved to be awake in a here-and-now in which most of what I need to do gets done in an appropriately timely fashion, most of my deadlines are well-met, most of my promises are kept, and mostly things are… fine. Pretty good, actually, and feelings to the contrary are generally an illusion, created by remnants of chaos and damage.

I sit with my coffee, now, thinking over some of the things that my dream suggested are significant (most of it is so far in the past that it isn’t relevant now, if it even was then) – are there things I need to consider, or make amends for? Perhaps. My “to do list” is pretty fucking long, and it’s hard to stay on top of all of it these days. On the other hand, most of the shit that my dream stirred up has no legitimate weight now, and I’m overdue to forgive myself or let it go. Or both. I’ve grown, and some of what used to freak me out no longer causes me stress (because it isn’t worth all that) and other stuff I’ve learned to manage more skillfully. I’ve learned to be less casual with promises, more realistic with commitments, and (mostly) more comfortable with boundary setting. (I could still use work on that…) My perspective on a lot of things has changed, too.

…Funny how much power a dream can have; I thought about this one all the way to work, and only just finished turning it over in my thoughts…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a pleasant Monday, full of promise. The sky is cloudy and gray, but there are hints of blue here and there. I spent a lovely weekend in the garden, and in my Traveling Partner’s good company. Cooked a couple meals at home. Got in a couple very nice walks. Got the rest I needed to start a whole new week. It’s not fancy, but it’s enough. I think about the high points: a new rose planted, a delightful (and cute, and efficient) new way of storing my paints is in the studio, thanks to my partner’s 3D printing skill, and I managed to tackle all the chores and errands I’d made note needed to be done. A good weekend. I sigh contentedly, and sip my coffee.

…It is a Monday… my work calendar is full. I glance at the clock. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being

Downtime

February 2, 2024 //
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I woke to a vibrating notification on my device, which was on a table on the other side of the room. The room I woke in was “a strange place”, and filled with light when I woke; I had left the curtain partially open expecting daybreak to wake me. It didn’t. It was almost 08:00 a.m., and I’d slept nearly 11 hours. My Traveling Partner woke ahead of me, and had messaged me the good morning greeting that ultimately woke me.

The view I woke to.

It’s a lovely morning. It’s hours later and I’m still groggy. I’m in a ferocious amount of physical pain this morning, and struggling to feel properly awake. It’s a feeling not unlike the feeling one might have after consuming too many “medibles” the day before, and then trying to wake up too early (which is hilarious, since I didn’t use any cannabis at all yesterday). I feel sludgy and slow and dreamy, as if trapped in some partially awakened state. I feel fairly certain I could just go back to bed, and continue to sleep still more. I laugh when I realize I may have subtly set myself up for this moment simply by being so eager to “get some downtime” – I made it okay with myself, and my brain took it from there. I can relax and take it easy, nap if I want to, laze around if I want to, chill with a book or whatever I please. Apparently… I’m tired enough that my body went all-in on getting some actual rest. LOL

I listen to the sounds of the waves crashing on the beach where the channel meets the sea. The tide is going out, and will be at it’s lowest today at about 12:30 p.m. That’ll be a great time to walk the beach, with the warmth of the afternoon sun on my back. There’s no need to rush. I teeter on the edge of going back to bed to nap or read (or read and nap)… or… making my way out into the world long enough to get a good cup of coffee. lol It’s a tough choice, this morning, and it seems likely that napping will win… on the other hand… this first coffee, this morning, is relatively poor quality hotel coffee, and I would very much like a good cup of coffee. lol I just don’t know, and I have all day to make up my mind (if that’s how I want to spend the day).

I spent a lot of yesterday morning and afternoon walking, and my legs ache, reminding me of it. Funny that I’m stalled in this here and now, betwixt decision-making, taking action, or just napping. lol I almost trick myself into thinking I “should” do something… but escaping the “shoulds” and the “have to’s” and the sensation of falling behind on too much that wants my attention is the entire point of this short getaway; letting all that pressure fall away, and taking my ease for just a day or two, and letting my mind rest are my highest priorities today. So.

I’ve no idea where this day will take me – maybe nowhere. I’ll find out when I begin again.

A visitor stops by while I wonder what the day may hold.
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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Perspective, The Art of Being, winter

Just Tired

December 27, 2023 //
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I’m tired. The day started poorly, at least initially. (It’s fine now.) My Traveling Partner was worried about me and woke me from what to me felt like a very deep, sound sleep in the midst of detailed dreams. It was rather near my usual wake-up time (about 90 minutes too early) and I could not go back to sleep. I woke feeling groggy, confused, fussy, irritable, and startled. This was less than ideal. I went ahead and got up for the day. I was going to head out immediately so he could just go back to bed himself, although I definitely wasn’t fully alert, yet. He invited me to stay and have coffee together, which sounded pretty good; there would not be any cafe’s open at that hour, and driving into the city without having some coffee sounded pretty crappy. So…

We began again. We enjoyed our morning coffee together and watched a couple videos. It was a pleasant way to start the day. No regrets.

I will say… although I wish no one would ever wake me while I’m sleeping soundly… I sure wouldn’t be the one to insist that someone who is worried about me as I slept take no action to ensure I’m okay. That seems fairly unreasonable, and possibly actually foolish. If my partner woke me at 03:30 in the morning and asked me to wake up just to hang out with him because he was feeling lonely, I totally would. (I mean, keeping it real, I might be a bit annoyed at first. lol) I’d definitely expect him to wake me if the house was on fire or something, too. I just really wanted to sleep (because I already was) and waking up was so hard. I’m not that good at sleeping well, and it’s hard to let sleep go when it does happen. I’m fine, though, for most values of fine. Just… definitely tired.

G’damn I am tired this morning, though. lol Although my Traveling Partner seemed certain I’d “probably gotten enough sleep”, mostly based on when I retired for the evening, I did read for a little while, and I was up once during the night. My tracker suggests I got less than 6 hours. Not ideal, but I’ll get by on that and I should certainly be safe to drive home at the end of the work day… it’s not like losing sleep is so common any more. I’m generally getting enough sleep these days.

…I’m having trouble getting my shit together for the work in front of me…

I yawn and stare into the glow of the monitor vacantly for awhile. So tired. I try to shake it off. I drink more coffee. Even the utterly average office coffee will do the job I need it to do, this morning. I make another cup and make a point of trying to drink it before it gets cold.

I sigh out loud in this quiet room. It’s not yet quite daybreak, but the sky has begun shifting from black to a dark moody blue gray. I guess it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights
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