Dream: My Art Show

I’m going to have an art show with just my work in my house, which has several rooms in it. There is a large main room where the art will be displayed – on a large table placed in the center of the room. I have a couple paintings on easels there but have not fully set up my display, as I have other details to attend to…food, etc. to be coordinated. I have “hired” another artist to stay in a smaller room where guests will enter and leave and presumably, pay for their purchases. He arrives and I leave him to get situated in that space. Meanwhile I’m still busy with lots of detailed related to hosting people in my home but have not yet gotten my art set up. People are arriving and now I’m busier than ever.

In my frenzy I make a pass through the small “check in / check out” room and find that the artist has set up his artwork on the tables in the room where he is supposed to be setting up for guest sign in and cash out. I am furious and choose to relieve him of his duties, presumably sending him on his way. The dream never gets that far, but as I’m arguing with the artist and reprimanding him for his actions I am fully aware that I have not gotten my own display set up and people are beginning to leave without having even viewed my art.

I spend so much time always preparing the “business” side of things that I don’t get around to creating my art, much less finding opportunities to display it.

Dream: Just Ask For Something Different

I’m in a looping dream – like the movie “Ground Hog Day.” It is a short loop that begins with me running from a “bad guy” and ends with him shooting me in the foot – or more specifically, in my toes. Every time. Each time I cycle through this dream loop I know what is going to happen but feel powerless to change it. I just repeatedly go through the anxiety of knowing the bad guy is going to shoot me every time.

After several rounds of this I finally do something different. This time I’m near the end of a loop (just before the bad guy shoots me) and I say out loud, “anything different, just so I don’t get shot.” This time I get away from the bad guy before he shoots me. I wake up to spasms in the toes on one foot.

When my life is in an endless loop of the same thing over and over, all I have to do is ask for something different. I know it works because I’ve done it before. So, why am I hesitating to do it again?

The most recent (significant) example of this working for me was last summer. Shortly before I gave notice at my job I spent one evening saying over and over, “I don’t care what kind of work I do, as long as I enjoy it.” A few days after I gave notice my manager pulled me aside and offered me another role on our team – one that could potentially make a difference in at least some of the areas that had caused me to feel frustration.

Dream: In Another Woman’s Body/Life

I am in a house that is not familiar. There’s a man in the house that I sense is my husband, but he doesn’t look familiar. He’s kind of nerdy looking, and I know the man I’m in a relationship with does not look nerdy. I get the sense that I have entered someone else’s body. This woman (the nerdy man’s wife) has straight blond hair. She is medium build. I must have seen pictures of the two of them together, but I also get a sense of her personality. She is a partier. She likes to drink a lot and carry on loudly with friends. Not like me at all. The man is balding with a slight pot belly. He’s not very tall – I’m guessing shorter than me, but I can’t be sure because I’m sitting. He is wearing drooping, khaki slacks and a yellow plaid short sleeved button down shirt over a white t-shirt.

I am sure the man doesn’t know what is happening, so I feel I should play along until I figure things out. I am sitting in a chair in the kitchen of the home; he has just entered a door from outside and is standing now just inside the door and a few feet away from me. There is at least one other person in the room with us and there is a conversation going on. I’m just sitting – not speaking – and observing him. I try to imagine if I could ever have an emotional bond with him; ever find him attractive. I don’t think so, but again, feel I should play along. We make eye contact, and he moves toward me. It seems like he has just come home and I’m wondering how he customarily greets his wife whose body I am inhabiting, so I hold my hand out toward him as he walks by my chair and he reaches out with his hand, giving mine a squeeze as he continues by. I get a warm feeling from the gesture, as his grip lingers for a second, and then he continues on his way, presumably to do whatever he does when he first arrives home at the end of each day.

Now I’m up and moving toward him in a room that feels like a living room. He says something to me and I respond. I don’t know what was said, but the end result is that I must go to the master bedroom to get something. I walk into another room at the back of the house only to discover it is not the master bedroom as I had expected. It is a mostly empty room with a workout bench on one side. I think to myself that I must recover quickly from this mistake before he notices. I come out of the room and my path back toward the living room brings to my attention a stairway that I must have walked past on my way by, but did not notice before. I think to myself that our bedroom must be upstairs, so I head up. He asks why I was in the other room and I tell him I thought I had left something in there. I head up the stairs to find the master bedroom.

In the next scene, I am on the phone with someone who I apparently know in my “real” life. I’m telling her about my dilemma – being in someone else’s body and not knowing why, wondering if I’ll make it back to my body or if I should work toward figuring out how to “be” this new person. I presume the woman whose body I’m inhabiting is now inhabiting mine. I assume everyone in this new life is seeing me as her (her body) even though I see me as myself. I hang up.

Next scene, I’ve shared my story with the man and he is understanding. He says he knew something was different about me by the way I had been acting / reacting to things. It feels like he is going to be supportive of me no matter what. Interesting observation that I didn’t get a sense that he was feeling a loss over his wife being displaced from her body. Instead, he was just as calm as could be and supportive of whatever I felt I needed to do.

When I awoke from the dream I was a bit disappointed. I wanted to see where this adventure was going. I thought maybe it could be a good premise for a fiction book. It’s been done before, but not exactly like this.

My thoughts as I write this are that I am working toward major changes in my life around work, friends, family and romantic relationships. All of that would feel very much like stepping into someone else’s life. While the feeling in my dream was that I was taking a step back socially and economically (older home, geeky looking husband), it felt like something I could manage and would probably be very happy with. I got a sense of much love coming from the man, before and after I shared with him my story. It was a very comforting feeling being in the dream – after the initial confusion.

The idea that I would inhabit a partier’s body may represent a change I feel I need to make. While I’m not a big partier, I do drink more than I should at times. While I was in the strange woman’s body I felt calm and it seemed like a big contrast when put against the impression I had of her.

Mid-Slumber Visitors

I’ve had a few “mid-slumber visitors” recently. Each time I’m awakened by a noise of some sort. I feel like I’ve been in a deep sleep, but I’m suddenly awake and my eyes are directed to the place in my room where the noise has originated. There sometimes is also a visual queue – an image of someone or something while I’m still in my dream state just prior to being startled awake.

In my first experience, which occurred some time last week, there was no vision – at least not that I can remember – but just a very distinct noise. The noise was like the creaking sound a wicker basket might make if you sat on it. I was instantly awake and my eyes were on the woven seagrass clothes hamper by the window. Of course no one was there – just the two sham-covered pillows I lay on top of it every night before climbing into bed. I considered asking “What do you want?” but was too tired. My curiosity was not as strong as my desire for sleep. I rolled over, tossed around the idea of communicating for about another 10 seconds and then fell back into a deep sleep.

The next experience, earlier this week, included a vision of…something or someone…I don’t recall the image or really have any impression of it…I just know there was an image. And then a noise shocked me awake. This time the noise wasn’t anything I could define as belonging in my bedroom, as in the creaking of the hamper. The sound this time was more like a “pop.” And this time I “felt” a presence in the room – but just for an instant. My eyes were aimed at the corner of the room – where the noise seemed to have originated – but no one was there. Once again sleep won over any urge to explore the situation.

Last evening it happened again. This time I know the image that appeared in my mind before I was jolted awake was a person. And this time, when my eyes shot open they were aimed at the foot of my bed where I got the impression of the shadow of a person just fading away. They were not standing at the foot of my bed, but sort of floating over it in a way. It was almost like they had been sitting on the end of my bed slightly turned to their left so they could watch me. When my eyes popped open they faded away. I also got the sense that this presence was male.

These sorts of experiences have happened for me before, but not in many years. In those earlier visits I always felt the presence must be my mother. In one instance I was awakened by the kind of movement your mattress makes when someone sits down on the edge of the bed. When my eyes opened I had the impression of my mother, seated there – and then it faded. Another time I awoke feeling she had been standing at the foot of my bed.

Fear is never a component of these events – just a realization that someone is out there. I’m never sure if they’re wanting to communicate a specific message or if they just want me to know they’re watching. But I never feel threatened by them.

In my recent visits, my most immediate thought after realizing what just happened is, “I’m so tired! Why did they wake me?” I suppose at some point I’ll get around to asking them that question.

What triggers these sorts of experiences? I believe that when we begin to open up and expand ourselves spiritually, we open the channels that connect us more closely to our Spirit Guides. Back when my mother was visiting I was in that zone. I spent several years there, but eventually I shut down spiritually in favor of exploring a relationship. At the time I did not know I was choosing one over the other. Intellectually I knew even then that relationship and spirituality should not be mutually exclusive options, but that is how it worked out in this case.

The individual I connected with was not spiritual or religious, but did claim to believe in God. He mostly was a lost soul with an addiction who struggled every day to keep things in balance. We connected, I suppose, because we both needed something. He needed calm and balance, which I was able to provide at the time. I needed examples of unconditional love and “love of family.” That is what he brought to me. While it was not a conscious decision, I chose at that time to move away from my spiritual practices and just “let life happen.”

After that relationship ran its course I realized I had become stagnant in my life. I have since found myself back in a place where I feel the need to connect to Source and grow in my spirituality. And so now my Guides are beginning to make their appearances on a regular basis. For the last few weeks it seems as though each night I either experience remarkable dreams or get an overnight “nudge” from one of my Guides. I try to write each dream because within it there is always a message.

I feel I have begun a new adventure in my life. I’m very interested to see how this progresses.

Mother / Daughter Intuition – Thyroid Issues

I recently had another Mother/Daughter intuition experience. I was at work one morning when I got a call from my daughter. She was on her way to have a Sonogram on her neck because of an enlarged thyroid and a goiter. This is an issue she’s been dealing with for several years. She had surgery about 2 1/2 years ago to have a portion of her thyroid removed. At that time they were able to save enough of it so that it could still function properly, and for about a year or so it did. Unfortunately, now it doesn’t, and it looks like they may have to go in again and remove the whole thyroid this time.

Anyway, back to the intuition part of the story. After she told me what she knew to that point and what she expected to happen, I hung up the phone and jotted a few notes for myself (I’m horrible at remembering details if I don’t write them down). I then headed down the hall to the restroom. That’s when I remembered the dream.

In my dream (just the night before) my daughter had experience a very extreme trauma around her neck (I’ll leave out the details in the interest of her privacy). In the dream I wasn’t terribly upset, which would seem very unusual considering the exteme nature of the trauma, but she was expected to recover fully.

After thinking about it, I now understand why I wasn’t terribly upset in the dream. It’s because I was being given a good message. The message was that, yes, there is something going on with my daughter’s neck (something I’ve known about for months and has been on my mind), but in the end she’s going to be fine. This was a reassurance premonition given to me from the “powers” that be…whatever you want to call them. And for this, I am grateful.

Dream: Taking Care of Myself

I have a two story home where the back yard or possibly back rooms in the upstairs portion of the house are somehow not visible from the outside or just not places I use very often, so I’m not always aware of them. The back yard is somehow on the second story level, and there is a large tree there.

I have been away for a period of time…days or weeks, I’m not sure. When I return I find that a family has moved in to the house. The vision I have of them is that they are sitting under the large tree in the back yard, but somehow I know they’ve been in the house. They have somehow let themselves in even though the house has been locked.

At first they try to hide from me, thinking I won’t notice because the area is not highly visible, but I do know they are there, even before I actually see them.

This family consists of a woman who is sometimes white with long black hair and sometimes black with long hair and her two children; a white girl with pageboy length dirty blond hair and a black boy. Both children are around 10 years old.

When the woman realizes I have discovered them, she approaches me and tries to convince me to let her stay. She has, after all, been moved in and living there for quite some time.

I am livid! I shout my anger at the woman. I can not believe this woman actually thought it was okay to move into someone’s house unannounced. And the house has been locked. How did she manage to get in? Who does she think she is, anyway?

She offers to pay me rent – has even written out a check already and is trying to hand it to me. I repeat my issues with the woman being there in the first place. Who would do that and think it was okay?

I finally tell the woman that she is going to have to leave. This is not her house, it is mine. And she may be in a bad situation, but I cannot be responsible for her. She should have family of her own to help her out. I can’t be responsible for her because I have to focus on taking care of myself. I can’t be put out by her problems. I have problems of my own.


My initial thought on this dream is that I’m in a stage of my life where I know I must give more focus to taking care of me and spend less time worrying about what others are doing. I’ve come a very long way in the past few years, but I still have a long way to go, and there are LOTS of things right in front of me that could potentially derail my progress if I let myself get caught up in them.

I truly believe we create our worlds and we can do whatever we set our minds to…if we believe. I also know that when we lose focus of our wants and desires, we can feel sidetracked. This can lead to feelings of anger, guilt and general unhappiness. Been there, done that.

But I also believe that we experience everything we do for a reason. And so when we do get sidetracked it is because from that experience we will receive something that will serve us on our own path. So in the end, taking care of oneself requires that we not exclude the wants and desires of others, but embrace them. Play with them, but listen to our heart about how deeply to become invested in them. And when we do find ourselves temporarily diverted, we should take some time to be quiet…and consider why we might have chosen to go there.

Dream: Playing Dress Up (I’m a Fraud)

9/4/07 Dream Journal: Eric Forman – That 70’s Show

There was a car accident where a young man was injured. It looked like a race car…white…or was it just a souped up street car? He was driving and it crashed. He lost a leg. I’m sitting on the landing of an outdoor staircase, watching as the accident happens and then he is brought to the stairway by someone and left there. Time has passed since the accident (dream magic) and his physical injuries have healed. He is still minus one leg and is having to learn how to get around on his own.

So he’s lying back on the stairs…like if you were to sit on a set of stairs and then lie back. And he begins to make his way toward me by putting his hands on the step just behind him and pulling himself up, making his way backward up the stairs. Apparently this is how he will have to get around for the rest of his life. He is not able to stand upright. He will forever have to navigate the world from this position. He is not even able to sit. He either can’t use his remaining leg to push himself or he is afraid to because he is doing all the work with his arms.

I feel bad for him, but know I cannot offer help because he needs to understand his limitations and learn how to live with them. I also have limitations. I also cannot walk upright (I don’t know why), but I can sit, and I have made my way from the bottom of the stairs to the landing on my own. I also have – and use – both my legs to help me move around.

I wait on the landing for him and when he gets there I speak with him briefly. It is mostly just positive message small talk, because I feel that is what he needs. I stay where I am as he continues around and up the remaining steps to the landing above, still one stair tread at a time on his behind, scooting backwards.

The building where we are is like a motel with an open air outdoor walkway and doors to individual rooms evenly spaced along the walkway. The young man has now disappeared through a doorway at the top of the stairs. I begin to speak with someone else who has magically appeared and is standing next to me on the landing. I don’t know the topic of conversation, but I feel a sense of satisfaction that I was able to impart some positive energy on a poor lost soul.

All at once I see at the top of the stairs that the door to the young man’s room has opened and the end of a rifle is peeking out from the darkness beyond…very low to the floow. Five shots are fired in my direction. I take off down the stairs seeking shelter (still on my back, doing some sort of spider walk).

I am suddenly afraid of this young man, and very confused. How could he suddenty become so violent toward me? Even though he is clearly not very mobile, I feel I need to find better cover.

I am now on the ground floor…street level. I make my way across the parking lot in front, staying close to the building and now am heading up a hill on one end of the building which will allow me access to the second floor without using stairs. I see a deck area where people have gathered for a cookout, and I head in that direction. I come in quietly from the back side of the deck so as not to cause too much commotion – I don’t want the young man to know I’m here.

I want to speak with the people on the deck to let them know I am in danger…maybe they can protect me…or maybe I want to warn them…I don’t remember. As I am speaking with them we move inside the room they are staying in. They are all sitting around a dining room table. I am now on the floor next to the person sitting at the head of the table, that person (and the table) are between me and the motel room door. I can see the doorway through a sea of chair, table and people legs. I am speaking with the person at the head of the table, explaining that there is danger out there and we must be careful and quiet to remain safe.

All at once I see him…he is on a dolly…like the kind an auto mechanic would use to roll underneath a car. Someone is pushing him forward along the outdoor walkway. He is holding his rifle at the ready, his head cocked slightly and eyes focused on the walkway in front of him, searching for his prey. I hold my breath, hoping he will not see me in my hiding place behind the table. He rolls on past the doorway and is gone.

I wake up.


After “What the @$#%!” I thought, “Hey! That was Eric Foreman from That 70’s Show. Why was he in my dream?” Then I remembered I had watched a couple episodes of the show right before bed that night.

But why did I pull him in, and not one of the other characters? My guess is that I identify with him just a little because out of all the characters in that show, he seems to me to be the only one who doesn’t think he has everything worked out. He’s always a little behind…a little confused. Everyone else seems to have all the answers – at least most of the time.

But what is the underlying message here? Am I angry with myself for not being compassionate enough toward…me? Do I feel the compassion I have for others is not sincere? Am I tired of allowing myself to get in my own way? Am I scared shitless that if I stretch my wings too far I will be found out…I will be outed as a fraud?

This brings to mind a quote I received in my email not too long ago:

“Each time I write a book, every time I face that yellow pad, the challenge is so great. I have written eleven books, but each time Ithink, ‘Uh, oh, they’re going to find out now. I’ve run a game on everybody and they’re going to find me out.'”- Maya Angelou
I sent this to a friend of mine and she responded:

“It’s incredible no matter how old we are the child in us thinks ‘they’ will find out we’re just playing dress up. I’m always amazed at how those people we see as strong and successful struggle with self doubt too.”

I might be onto something here…

Dream: Lack of Voice / Lack of Control / Guilt

8/26/07 Dream Journal:

In the first part of the dream I am moving into an apartment that has lots of closets that are full of lots of other peoples’ stuff…to the degree that the other person I am moving in with…maybe a child, because there is a closet in the hallway full of kids clothes that I’m thinking should be in the closet inside the bedroom…where it belongs…but someone else’s stuff is in the bedroom closet. There are other people with me…not sure if they’re helping me or just there. Then something changed in the middle of the scene…so quickly it almost just felt like a change of my thought pattern…so that now I know I am going to be living there alone. I clearly don’t need all that room and all those closets; the stuff in the closets belongs to those other people who are with me anyway, and so they just need to find other places to store their stuff…it shouldn’t be in my place anyway. But then, if it were gone, the place would be way too big for me. So I began wondering to myself if I should, in fact, be looking for another place to live that would be more suitable to my needs, but the other people didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with the picture. They assumed I would just continue to move into this place regardless of the change of situation (which they somehow knew about even though it happened so quickly and none of us spoke of it).

There is also a scene I keep going back to, which is a bare mattress with all sorts of little silver jewelry findings scattered on the end of it, inside and outside of a clear plastic beading organizer box. Every so often throughout this segment of the dream I would find myself at the end of that bed sorting through the mess, trying to pick up these particular findings with prongs and get them sorted into the organizer…but it was a very slow process…I could only get around to picking up a few of them each time I was there.

In the next scene, I’m with my boyfriend and he is cooking something really good…it’s like some sort of organic, healthy pasta and it’s really good. He has given me a bowl of it and I’m eating some of it while he continues what he’s doing in the kitchen. Then he finishes and comes over to the table to eat…apparently I was supposed to eat some out of the bowl and leave some for him…but I’ve eaten most of it and now there is only a little left for him. He looks at the bowl in disbelief…I feel horrible that I’ve eaten so much without consideration for him. I begin apologizing, saying that I don’t believe I ate that much without realizing what I was doing…it was just so good…and I must have been really hungry. He continues to just stand there and look at the bowl…he says, “No, you weren’t.” I continue apologizing, feeling so helplessly guilty, knowing somehow that he is not going to forgive me for this, and so how can I forgive myself? I have done a terrible thing. He continues to stand there, staring, helplessly. It’s like he thinks that’s all the food there is in the world…there are no other options for him. Because I ate most of his portion he will go hungry. I know that isn’t true and I wonder why we can’t get past this. Why can’t we make more or make something else…but he won’t let go of the idea that half the food in the bowl should have been his. He will not entertain any other options for satisfying his hunger. He will not consider eating the portion I have left him. It is not good enough. He is determined to continue to be angry…and more importantly…hurt…over this.

At one point I say again that I don’t believe I ate that much…that I must have needed it…he responds something like…”No, you didn’t need it. You absolutely have control over what you eat. You could easily get your weight down to where you were only 10 pounds away from your intended weight.”

Next, I’m standing in front of him. He is now sitting in the chair at the table, so he is positioned almost even with my fist, which I am clenching and releasing…clenching and releasing. I am so angry I could spit…and though it would be easy, I am determined not to cry. I am visualizing what it would feel like…physically and emotionally…if I were to let my fist make contact with his face. How dare he! I am watching myself from behind now…watching my fist clench and release…clench and release…finally I say to him, “You have no idea how badly I’d like to punch you in the face right now.”

I leave the room he is in…angry, and determined to get back to whatever it was I was doing before this…as I leave the dining room I close a door behind me. Now I’m walking down a long hallway that is all brown with dark paneling and doors on both sides along the way. I’m heading toward a door at the end of the hallway where I know I will return to the scene where I have been moving into the apartment. As soon as I pass through that door I turn around and go back to the room where he is and try once again to apologize for eating his dinner. Nothing has changed with him…he is still hurt and unforgiving. I am no longer angry with him for his comment about my weight. I only feel guilt for having deprived him from enjoying the food he had prepared. I give up and head back through the hallway toward my “moving in” project, but when I pass through the door at the end of the hallway I am again in the the dining room where he is…I must have so consumed with guilt that I turned around in the hallway without conscious decision. I immediately turn leave the dining room again and this time, when I pass through the door at the end of the hallway I am back in my “apartment.”