Mystics on a Mesa

This dream occurred on the morning of October 14, 2023. The setting was in the Southwest. It is a hot day in the desert. I see a steep road leads up an adobe house. I am standing in front of this house looking at it. To my left, I see a model 1969 black Ford Lincoln Continental. Apparently, I drove up to this location in the Lincoln. It is a ginormous powerful car with a big block engine and built like a tank. Suddenly, I feel a surge of electrified energy go thru me and I sense I should look to my right. This is when I see seven black robed figures. Their faces are dark within their robes. I am not sure if they are even human. I hear a voice inside my head say, "These are the seven Muslim mystics. They serve Iran." The voice further explains that they openly profess to be Islamic scholars, but they are ancient beings and they in fact serve Satan.

 I say to myself, "Holy Cow!!! I am out of here!" I leap into the driver side window of the Lincoln, hit the gas, and spin out in a cloud of dust down the hilltop road. 

I reach the base of the mesa, bail out and run towards another adobe building. Inside is an old friend I'd knew when I'd was in the army. His name is Dan. Dan is coming to the doorway and is dressed in a red flannel shirt and blue jeans. He looked high or hung over and unshaven. This was what Dan looked like in the waking world. When lastly I had seen him after he left the military. Dan had discovered medical marjuana to ease his pain. We both collided at the open door frame, I shockingly, am punching him in the face. Dan, was a good loyal friend. I am stunned that I am punching him. I loved him like a brother. I would nevertheless ever act like this in real life. It was disheartening to see how much he had fallen after discharge. It broke me to see him like that. Perhaps. I should have tried to rescue or resurrect the man. I really respected and admired him. It could be subconsciously I want to smack him into straightening out his life. I felt guilt for moving away and not having reached out to my old buddy. I got married and started a family. Wherever you are Dan I'm praying you are well and thriving. I miss you brother. 

   

    

 

The dream this morning was about polar bears. The dream begins with me walking toward a very simple looking house surrounded by four-foot-high chain link fence. There is snow everywhere. The place reminds me of photos I have seen of Inuit villages in the far north of Alaska. I am approaching a right-side door to enter the house. Suddenly, I hear heavy breathing, I turn back to see an old hungry male polar bear rushing toward me. I left the driveway gate open, and this old bear wants to eat me badly. I must hurry to get into the house. I make it inside and the bear crashes inside behind me. He is not going to give up easily. He chases after me through every room through the length of the house. We come to the last room with the last exit door.  Here there is a washer and dryer. I hastily push these in front of the door going into the room. My faint hope is it might slow him down a bit. The bear is angry, and I hear him roar. I run out the last door to the outside. 

Okay, I think, I got out of this fix, but no, there is another polar bear outside! This polar bear is a female. She sees me and immediately charges at me. I need a quick plan. Well, I am carrying a blanket for some weird reason. I will cover the head of the bear, confuse it, and roll away out of its path. The bear stops and it really is confused. I look behind me and see more strange things. There is a younger man. I believe he is a teen age version of me. The boy is trying to free a newborn polar bear that has its head stuck in a hole in the fence. The little bear is about the size of a house cat. The poor thing is crying and whimpering. Young me is trying to pull him through. All of a sudden, we see another polar bear cub fly over the fence. It makes a "whee" sound and it almost seems to be laughing. This seems so improbable and cartoonish. I wake up from the dream so bemused. 

This dream began with terror and ended up on a hysterical note. I think back on YouTube videos I have seen of actual polar bear encounters. The men often narrowly miss getting eaten by running around a vehicle. They either get inside or on top of the vehicle and out of reach of the predator. I suppose some people have been dinner for these guys. I just do not recall having seen a video where that may have happened.  

So how to interpret this dream? Polar bear symbolism suggests strength and courage. The polar bear is tough. They have come to remind me that my current challenges in life may seem fierce and intimidating these obstacles I can overcome. Stay hungry and stay on the path in spite of how hostile the environment may be. The polar bears are guiding me between the world of the living and the world of spirit. 

Sometimes, polar bear meaning portends that a spiritual journey may begin, and clairvoyant senses may awaken.  

That male bear just missed making lunch out of me. I feel for the old guy. I think he was reminding me to be opened minded about what the meaning of a home can be. Don't become complacent and think it the ultimate expression of safety and security. 

The momma bear certainly reminds me of my wife who is the mother of my child. I know I have at times put a wet blanket on her dreams and smothered her anger on occasion.  The infant bear in this dream was small, vulnerable, and pinkish. Reminds me of my special needs daughter when she was born. The older flying laughing bear cub reminds me of another dream I had of my daughter being trained to fly by an angel. My little girl leaped into the air with joy. She can barely stand or walk now. I stand with hope that she will jump for joy one day and I will live see it. The presence of a younger me is a reminder to think back on what I once dreamed a family was supposed to be verses what it is now for me.  

Overall, this dream seems to feel like a net positive.  I need to open my eyes and have greater situational awareness. 

Orange You Glad to be Alive?

The dream this morning takes place in China during the 1700's. I am the First Mate of a sailing ship; it could be a merchant vessel or privateer. I am wearing clothing exactly like that pictured above, with the captain, and crew on shore. 

In the dream I see the captain and the crew to the right and I am standing alone apart from them to the left, off to the distance, a few miles away, I see a Catholic Mission. There is a school building, a tall brick Cathedral, and a factory. 

What is made in this factory is not clear to me. There are 100 men who work there. The men from the factory are Christians. Their children attend school in the building across the street. Everyone attends Mass in the cathedral. 

Suddenly, the factory has an explosion. There is a mushroom cloud, and the building becomes engulfed in flames. All 100 of the men inside are killed. Somehow, I am falsely accused of being the cause of this disaster. The Chinese emperor demands that I pay him reparations. He is angry that he has lost 100 good tax paying workers. His price is for me to create an orchard of 100 orange trees or forfeit my life.   

So I set out to find and buy 100 nursery sized orange trees from the locals. I am buying them up 1 or 2 at a time from every farmer I can find throughout the land. I see trees neatly standing together with the roots tied up with burlap bags. I think I have collected perhaps 30 to 40 trees. It is far short of the goal. I feel like I have been set up to fail. The emperor surely knows there are not enough orange trees in the land to meet his quota. 

The emperor sends an armored knight to come and demand payment, or he will terminate me on the spot. This warrior, however, is dressed in European medieval armor. He comes at me sword in hand. He pretty much intends to kill me. He moves awkwardly in the armor. He loses his footing and falls into a pool to his left. The edge of the pool is slippery with mud. I rush forward to try to catch the man before he falls in, but I too slip in the mud, and fall in after him. The pool quickly drains. It seems to be hundreds of feet deep. The knight disappears in its depth. My shirt becomes hooked on some sharp metal point, and I am clinging to a steel I-beam by my arms trying to pull myself up. 

Meanwhile above me our captain and the crew look on in amazement at what transpired and assume I am dead. However, there is an attractive dark-haired European woman in our party that sees me in the shaft and knows that I yet live. I signal to her to not reveal that I have survived. This is when I awake from the dream. 

The key element of this dream seems to be those orange trees. The emperor knew exactly what their symbolic meaning was...

The Orange became a symbol of their prosperity as it suggested great wealth, dreamy destinations and far-off lands. In Eastern history, orange trees have come to symbolize prosperity, and happiness. -Google August 2022. 

How do I summarize the meaning of this dream? Orange trees are a high yield fruit tree, and they would, of course, generate a lot of wealth, and productivity over time. The emperor demands his due and I am in his way of his desire. His concern seems to be more for his wealth and then for the peasants.  The orange trees seem a poor substitute for their lives. Although, I must admit he has some sense of justice as he sought to rebalance the loss of life with another living commodity, the fruit trees. 

It seems clear to me that I was not at fault for the explosion that destroyed the factory. It is a mystery as to why it happened and who may have been at fault. Perhaps it was just a dangerous work environment? An industrial accident?  Sabotage? Maybe the emperor wanted the Christians gone from his kingdom and this was his means to get rid of them and force the foreigners to leave. Historically this was true for hundreds of years in China.  

This whole business of the armored knight that comes to execute me he might be a hired assassin of a rival European superpower. A mercenary hired by the emperor. Or working on behalf of another captain, king or the pope? It's political intrigue or corporate espionage. It all makes for a great story. Reminds me of the novel "Shogun" by James Clavell in many ways. 

It's interesting that I survive the attempt to kill me. The dream ends with a literal cliff hanger. The suggestion is I crawl out of this pit and survive to restore my reputation and there is a possible love interest with a mysterious young woman. The hero's journey might yet continue. 

I am always amazed at all the storylines the subconscious creates. Lately, I have this desire to return to writing. I want to become a published author. I have ideas for books I want to write. It would be awesome to write a movie screen play or a series of novels. Perhaps, when I finally become fully retired, I will have the time to put a full effort into writing. I hope I can.                      

 

White Eagle Dream

 

The Dream this norning beginings in my bed. I sit up in my bed and it is dark. My family is sleeping. In am dreaming that I have awoken from sleep. I walk from my room and I am no longer longer in my apartment, but I am in some large institutional building. The place feels like a school or hospital. I am trying to get out of this place. There is staff and woman administrator coming towards me. They want to confront me. They are not happy that I am wandering around there building in my night clothes. They must think I am trespressing or some kind of weird intruder. One male member of the staff is chasing me down hallways. I am desperately looking for an elevator or an exit. At one point he corners me in cubbyhole that looks like a possible exit, but it is not. I burst past him and look to my left. The wall disappears and it becomes a rocky sea shore, and I see a military like ridged hull inflatible boat,RHIB,speeding toward me. It is a rescue mission! There are about 4 men and 2 woman onboard. I wade out to boat up to my chest and I am pulled aboard. Thank God they are here to rescue me! Next things take an unexpected turn. A Mexican man wades out to the boat too. He wants so badly to escape the instituion too. My rescuers plead with the man to come aboard. We must make room for him only the boat is full. There is no room for an additional person. So I selflessly sacrifice my own position to allow him a place. I swim back to the institution and the rescue mission powers away. Now I wander about the halls of the building. No one seems to care about me any longer. Suddenly, a wall before me, disolves, and I see a white sandy beach. It is sunny and breezy. On the opposite side of the waterway I see small cottages. Then all of a sudden a magnificent white eagle swoops down from my right and lands on the beach right in front of me. The raptor is an albino bald eagle. There are some flecks of black in his plumage, but mostly he is a beaming white bird. His left side is towrd me and he cocks his head toward me. He stares at me with proud piercing eyes, and I hear these words in my head, "Look to your Freedom here!".

Then I wake up. It was odd that at the start, that this dream began with me waking up, and yet still being asleep in my bed. That is such a weird idea. Was I astral traveling? I'm not so sure. The building and the people there really gave me the sense of being uncomfortabily pursued and trapped. That institution felt sterile and oppressive. It felt like some communist enclave that I had to get out from. Was it some kind of federal prison? The people and the place felt modern, and oppresive, like something out of 1984. The ridged hull inflatible boat, RHIB, is very familiar to me. I know about these boats from my time serving in the U.S. Coast Guard. These are very useful for boarding ships and performing rescues. My past military history still informs my present dreams. Those experiences will forever affect me. They are engrained in my psyche. It is interesting that I sacrifice my own freedom to save the Mexican man. Selfless service is one of values that comes with nilitary service. You just do it and not dwell too much on the consequences afterwards. I am glad the Mexican man got to escape. It seems The Creator had a different plan for me. It was so stunning to see the white eagle in this dream. This was the most amazing part of this dream and it fills me with hope. I believe it portends good news. The white eagle reflects the power of the sun. Many Native American cultures regard the eagle as a messenger of the gods. The white eagle comes from the spirit world. It is symbolic of strength and power. It is seen as a sign of wisdom and knowledge. In dreams, white eagles are said to represent our higher selves, or our ability to rise above challenges and reach our goals. Good news is coming! Some kind of victory is coming my way. I have no doubt. The landing of the eagle on the beach must have some signifigance. I think it suggests a need to find the peace and tranquilty a beach has to offer. I think of trips to Florida I did in my younger years. White sand and waves lapping at the beach. I also vividly remember a trip I had to Bermuda years ago. I sat in a horseshoe bay on a white sand beach with a beer and turkey sandwich. What a blissful moment. Those tiny cottages on the opposite shore fill me with longing too. I hope to have a home some day in the future. When the eagle stood there between me and that view of thise cottages and said, "Look to your freedom here", was he suggesting look to him or look to this place for my freedom? I am starting to think he meant for me to look internally for my freedom. That it is more a state of mind than a physical place. Well, that surely gives me a lot to ponder. A cottage on the beach is a great responsibilty and yet it can be destroyed in a hurricane in mere seconds. To say that material things are imperament is to speak a truth. Still, it sure would be welcome to experience that even it was just a fleeting moment in time. Such is the nature of life. Experiences are just points on a continuim.

Terrorists, Tuna Swords and Sea Captains

The dream this morning begins in a military office. I see a U.S. Army general talking to a female U.S. Navy Corpsman. There is a terrorist attack taking place in an American city. The Corpsman is arguing with the general to commit to a rescue operation. A factory in this occupied city has hostages. The hostages are, in fact, mainly myself and my infant daughter. The General has refused to risk his troops on a rescue op. The Corpsman marches out of the office in disgust and I see her walking toward the city. She is determined to go it alone if necessary.

The scene then moves to a office inside the occupied factory. I am standing there with my 6 month old daughter in my arms. There are two terrorists standing guard in front of the door leading outside. A short swarthy man enters, bizarrely I see he is carrying a tuna fish by the tail with his left hand and cradled in his right arm is a Japanese tuna sword. Apparently he intended to pass through the office to a nearby kitchen to butcher the fish. I seize this opportunity to attack the man. I wrench the sword out of his arm and I chop off his left arm. The men outside hear his blood curdling scream and come storming in. A melee then ensues between me and the terrorists all the while I am holding my daughter in one arm and a sword in the other trying to protect her amidst this chaos. The dream ends here and becomes another.

The next dream finds me in Alaska. I am witnessing a re-enactment of the Captain Cook landing in Cook Inlet Alaska in 1778. I see British longboats paddling to shore. There are numerous modern support ships and vessels watching and recording the event. The water has become quite rough. Some of the longboats boats are becoming swamped.

On one longboat I see one British seaman re-actor manning the oars and an officer with his tri-cornered hat facing him standing in the bow. The front half of the boat is flooded and is about to sink. A small tugboat-like support ship motors up alongside and the officer takes a dignified steps from the his longboat onto the deck of the support ship. A wave crashes over the deck. the officer is nonplussed. He pulls out a cell phone from a vest pocket. He speed dials the Coast Guard and holds the phone high and shouts defiantly, "I got signal bitches!". Then I wake up laughing.

The incident with the terrorists and the tuna sword reminds of a video I watched many months ago about a famous Japanese butcher who fillets up huge tunas for high priced clients in Japan. He was very precise and professional with that sharp sword he owned. He recounted a true story of a butcher that used his blade on some yakuza dudes that wanted to extort money out of him. Clearly that video has lain dormant in my subconscious and has bubbled up in the form of that dream. No shock that I am very protective of my daughter.

The second part of this dream with the boats is interesting in that it is the continuation of a nautical theme that has surfaced in my dreams of late. I am starting to think I miss my old experiences at sea from back when I served in the U.S. Coast Guard. I never thought I would nostalgic for those old times and places, but I do. Water has much to do with dreams and emotions. They go hand in hand.

What to make of all this in it's totality?  It seems to be a response to fear both real and imagined. There is perhaps a battle going on with my shadow self. There is a confrontation with the violence inherit in myself and inherit in the natural world. It is kill or be killed within and without. I will not go quietly into that good night.

" Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying light." Dylan Thomas 1914 - 1953



 

 

    

    

Meeting Miss Nancy

The dream begins dockside on a small ship in the Pacific Northwest. I am with my old retired army buddy Kal. My buddy and I served many years together in Michigan National Guard, Kal and I, with a handful of other retired vets, board what looks like a grey navy ship. We are going on cruise up the inside passage.

The waters inside the inside passage are calm and mirror like as we motor north. It is a warm beautiful summer day. Ahead on our starboard side, heading south, we see a vessel that is some type of barge or ferry. This boat has been specially constructed for the Army Corp of Engineers to carry a helicopter. The helicopter is one of those old bell 47 choppers with the glass dome wind shield. I watch it go by and wonder to myself where it is headed and what it will be used for.

Suddenly, I am feeling quite tired and decide to turn in for the night. I head below to find a rack to sleep in. I climb up into a bunk and fall asleep.

The next day I wake up to discover we have made port in some Alaskan fishing village. My companions have all gone into town. Nearby I can see what looks like a shopping mall. I walk down the gangplank, down the pier and right into the front entrance of the mall. The space inside the mall is set up much like a convention centre with booths and stalls set up everywhere. Immediately in front of me are a set of stairs leading to a lower level. When I reach the bottom I see a lectern and on the lectern is a guest book is open. I see a sign with a photo of Nancy Reagan. Apparently I have wandered into a funeral. Is this Mrs Reagan's funeral? It looks that way, but I think not. Next thing I know Nancy walks into the room! Nancy looks at me with a knowing smile. No words are spoken between us. I bow my head out of a show of respect for the former first lady. I have fond memories of the Reagan Administration.  President Reagan was a great man.

Nancy walks into an adjoining room. In this room are about 7 or 8 ladies gathered together with a photographer to sit for a group portrait. I look to my left and I see a small auditorium. I see a closed casket to the left and seated in the front row of seats I can see Kal and four other of our veteran friends. Who is in the casket I do not know. On the opposite side of the room between the front row of seats and the casket I can a see a soldier in his dress uniform standing behind a swinging wood door. His head and shoulders and lower legs are all that are visible. I can just  make out there is a folded flag in his arms and it is being held over his heart with both hands. This is where the dream ends.

Mrs Reagan passed on March 11, 2016. I have not thought of her in years. She seemed like such a nice person. She had a warm wonderful smile just like the President. It was an honour to have served during the Reagan years.

Why am I meeting Miss Nancy in a dream? My buddy Kal and I are Cold War veterans. A lot of the old soldiers we served with have passed on now. We both have been to our share of funerals. Honestly, I do not know what to think about with this dream. It would have been great to have met Nancy in the waking world. Perhaps I have met her in the spirit world? I feel like I have.

I served in the U.S. Coast Guard in Alaska as well during my long military career. I am well familiar with Alaska, ships and the communities there. The geography has been imprinted on my mind. I will never forget my time spent there and the people I met. I gave up many years in selfless patriotic service to my country. Perhaps my mind is indulging itself in nostalgia. Note to self: clearly I need to ponder this dream a lot more deeply to glean some messages or information from it. This means something.  

Flying and Launch Lessons

The dream this morning involves an angel and my soon to be born daughter Sarah. This dream could be precognizant or it is information I have been allowed to see. I am not sure I should even write about this, but I feel a need to make a record lest I forget the details. This dream may be important one day in the future. 

In the dream I see a slim tall white angel. He is dressed in a white suit and tie, blond, looks a lot like David Bowie with wings. He has come down to a earth city. The angel has become famous for his ability to fly like some kind of super hero. The people have no idea the man they see is a spiritual being and his wings are invisible to them. They think he is some sort of new human with a natural ability to fly. 

I see the angel fly toward two 12 story buildings that are side by side at 45 degree angles every floor is open to the outdoors. I see many families seated at tables looking out at the Angel as he flies up to the top floor. The angel looks in at all of them. The people stare in amazement. They ask, "How can this beautiful amazing person do this? We must give him a gold medal for this magnificent human achievement!" 

Next I see the angel with a bright gold shining medal around his neck. The angel is profoundly embarrassed. He has done nothing to deserve a medal, but his true identity must remain secret while he is here on earth. He has come for a mission. 

My unborn daughter Sarah is his mission. The angel has come to give my new angel a flying lesson. I see my girl is a toddler. She is wearing a diaper. The angel looks at Sarah and demonstrates a flying leap to her. He comes back to her and motions with arm in a sweeping gesture for her to do the same. Sarah in on all fours and leaps like a frog into the air. She bursts out laughing in midflight. The angel smiles and he then turns his gaze to a distant skyscraper in the city and without a word he flies off to it. He intends to fly off to other even taller buildings. There are many others that are in need of flying lessons. 

Sarah has reincarnated here to be launched into a beautiful successful life. This is her new chance to prosper and succeed like never before. It fills my heart with glee that she has joy in her soul and can laugh. 

My duty as her father will be to help launch her into her fabulous beautiful successful life. I take this very serious. I pray that I am up to the task at hand. At 56 years old I will more senior than most dads I know. The mere thought of it makes me tired, but I am so looking forward to meeting my own precious little angel.         

A Tomato History Lesson.

The dream this morning takes place during the 16th Century at a port on the east coast of Mexico. In the dream I see several ships moored to a stone pier. On one of these ships I can see two sailors. One sailor is a teen age boy and the other is a man in his early thirties. The two of them are negotiating a trade with two native men. The native men are dark brown and are dressed in a manner similar to the illustration  pictured above. The men are carrying tomatoes in what look to be fishing nets. The sailor is examining the tomatoes are discussing what they might offer in trade with his young companion.  The sailor remains skeptical on weather the tomatoes are safe to eat or not. He has never seen a fruit like these before.

My research, prior to writing this blog, has discovered that tomatoes are thought to have originated in the Americas. Here is a link that discusses the history of the tomato:

 http://www.tomato-cages.com/tomato-history.html

Many in Old World Europe thought that tomatoes were poisonous. In this dream the Indians are unable to make a deal with the sailors. They pick up their haul of the fruit and walk away. I then wake up. What an odd and interesting dream this was!

This dream was very vivid. I felt the humidity and the heat of the day. I could smell the place. I swear it was like I was there experiencing history. This is another one of those dreams I would categorize as a remoted viewed experience.

The red color of the tomato denotes passion; the kindness of God: big heartedness: generosity. Dreaming of tomatoes is frequently associated with good health both physical and spiritual. To eat tomatoes is regarded as a healthy choice.

The sailors in the dream should have accepted the tomatoes. They missed out on making history. Somebody else got to be the one to bring something new to Europe that would start a culinary revolution. Often those seize the day moments come on suddenly and then like vapor they disappear.

Has the universe offered me some juicy opportunity to make history or riches right now or in the near future? I am not seeing it. Will I take the call when it comes or be a scared sailor? My record with such things has not been great.

Well, if I meet any Indians bearing tomatoes, anytime soon it would be wise to pay attention, and see what they might offer, or I might have to offer to them in return.        

Downstream And Upstream

The dream this morning features a river. The river is wide and flows gently by. It is a warm summer day. I am walking along the wet sandy bank on a pair of wooden stilts. I am wearing a white panama hat, white shirt, shorts and deck shoes. I can feel the heat. I take long strides as I follow the stream upriver. There are families about and I see men fishing along the banks.

The further I head up stream the more narrow and shallow the stream becomes. Eventually, I reach the head waters in the hills. The river is drying up until it is a series of muddy puddles. I met a farmer. The man is dark brown from working in the sun. He is only wearing shorts and shoes. The river bed is wet muck. The man is digging in the muck with his hands. His objective is to connect the remaining pools of water and channel the water to his crops. He is desperate to keep his crops alive. This is when I wake up.



Spring is now here according to the calendar. We have sun, but it is still very cold, Summer seems like a dream. The heat will be coming. The river in the dream symbolizes energy and fertility. When we first see it, we see families and fishermen. The people are seeking refreshment and feeding themselves. The energy and abundance is high. When I  move up river we are moving against the flow and the flow reduces. The farmer we encountered is struggling to maintain his living. The source of the flowing water is evaporating.

The stilts suggest a desire to rise above it all and forge ahead. I witness that others are enjoying life living in the moment. I seem a little envious of them. Something inside of me wants more. I want to get to that source. I want to know it's mysteries.

When I find that struggling farmer I realize this is what may be awaiting the folks down stream. They may not be aware of the future that could be reaching them if the drought continues. Does it not seem like a metaphor for our world? An environmental or political warning?

Perhaps this is an opportunity to examine my own life path? It gives me pause for thought. What is the source of my prosperity or lack? Do I have a fundamental understanding of what is or isn't working for me? All sorts of questions come to mind.

I can certainly relate to the hard working farmer trying to squeeze a living from the land. The farmer knows how precious the water is for sustaining his life and livelihood. Not only his family counting on him but many others that may need to buy or barter crops from him are depending on him as well. I feel his desperation. He is down in the muck and yet I am above it all on my stilts watching it happen and staying clean at the same time. What does this say about me? Perhaps I should lending the poor man a hand?

Well, I am awake now. I have moved on to other dreams and other puzzles to solve. Somewhere out there in the dream world our dirt farmer is toiling away. I pray he got his rain and his crops were saved. Another thought just occurred to me. If the rain did come would those gentle folk down stream get a flood? Are they being swept away while the farmer is getting blessed? What an irony that would be. The Universe has a weird way of seeking balance. For every one lottery winner there are thousands or millions who must lose.  This really messes with my head.

Victorian Ladies asking for DNA

The dream this morning takes place in a Traditional English Pub. I see 12 Victorian era ladies with their big hats seated behind tables arrayed before a bar. The tables are laid out in the shape of an "L" or a "7". Two of the woman are seated on the short side and the other ten are seated behind the long table. They are facing the bar and in front of each beautiful woman is an empty glass with a straw. The tables are quite close to the bar itself and standing between is a young man in his early thirties. The man is me. I am wearing striped trousers, a vest, and a jacket. I am sporting a handle bar mustache. I am appreciatively eyeing the ladies. Bizarrely, this is a match making test. The one lady tells me I must put a sample of my saliva in each glass, before each lady, using the straw in each glass! The dream ends here.

What a strange dream! Apparently the ladies were each looking for a suitable mate to produce a healthy child with and this test was devised to test the DNA of a prospective candidate. If this dream was set in the real historic 1890's then this would be way too early a period for legitimate genetic screening I should think. That part of the dream makes no sense.

I think I need to look at this with a more symbolic point of view. It is a clash of Traditional family values and modern science that is at odds here and being judged in my unconscious mind. There is a tension going on inside of me. Next month we have scheduled a genetic screening to be done on our unborn child.

I have been giving some thought to traditional family values and on how to best carry them on with my growing family. Modern science and contemporary society are pulling me in a direction I am not comfortable with. I wonder what my Great Grandparents would think of my courtship and marriage, and what they might think of the rearing of children today. What would they embrace or be appalled at in our society today? How I wish that they were alive and I could speak with them, and get their guidance, wisdom and thoughts about it all.

I love my wife. We met on Facebook. My mother told me many of our ancestors had arranged  marriages. I wonder what they might say about my how I found my wife, her culture and her race.
This gives me a lot to think about. Perhaps one day I can speak to the ancestors in my dreams and they will share their thoughts and feelings me? I sincerely would like to hear from them.  

The Rabbi

The dream this morning is a strange one. I see myself walking down a city street beside me is a young teenage boy. Suddenly, a limousine pulls up beside me, abruptly stops, and two Orthodox Jewish men step out from the vehicle. One of them comes around and opens a rear door. He says, "The Rabbi wants to speak to you. Get in."

I step inside and the door is closed behind me leaving my young male companion standing on the sidewalk. The 'Rabbi' is a Jewish mafia boss. He has several bodyguards with him in this limo. He wants to recruit me for some strange criminal enterprise. Apparently, I am skilled at both hacking computers, and I am an expert in DNA.

The 'Rabbi' wants me to somehow tamper with DNA that was left at a crime scene. Next, I see myself  at a hospital and I am typing away on a laptop at a nurses station. I am examining and changing the data results of a DNA test done on a body fluid left a crime scene that is connected to the 'Rabbi' in some way. The work I am doing changes the race of a murderer I think.

This is so bizarre! Why am I dreaming this?  I am not sure what to make of this. The wife and I will be finding out the sex of her baby in the womb next month. Our Jewish friend, Mickey, he has awakened a lot of thoughts and emotions inside me of late. Again I am thinking I should have our DNA tested. I have long had an obsession with the subject of DNA. I have read many books and watched several documentaries on the topic.

I am thinking I need to think more on this. Time to contemplate and ask the universe for clarification. This needs more dreaming to find answers or a deep internet research.

Under Fire

The dream this morning takes place in an urban setting. I see a building being renovated. The outside of the building is surrounded by scaffolding. On the left hand side off the building rests a giant concrete pipe about 6 foot in diameter. Inside this building are U.S. Army personnel. Apparently, this building is some kind of secure Military Intelligence facility and there are soldiers inside working with computers.

In this dream the building is under attack. I can hear automatic weapons fire but I cannot get a good visual on who are the combatants. My gut tells me they are rouge government types who want to destroy whatever secrets are inside.

I see a soldier run out from a corner of the building. The soldier is a young man in his early 20s. He is wearing a Class B army uniform. It is what you would expect for a soldier working in an office, however, this soldier has a handgun. He is running quickly away in a grouched position as bullets fly all around. He makes it to a building across the street and tumbles forward in a cloud of dust. His uniform gets quite dirty and he is drenched in sweat. Dust is caked on his arms, neck and face. His blond hair is a mess. I wake up.

This was a very vivid dream. It felt very real. I am inclined to think I remote viewed this one. There is a lot of crazy shit going down right now within our government. It is probably not a  good idea to be discussing it, even if I present it as a dream. This one disturbs me and leaves me uneasy.

I am going to leave the analysis alone on this one. This is one of those dreams you let be and wait to see if in the future the dream becomes confirmed. We shall see or we may never know.



  

ButterFly Brickle and Sting Like a Bee

The dream this morning is about Muhammed Ali and ice cream. In this dream I get the news that the famous boxer Mohammed Ali is coming to our town. The Mayor and our Sheriff intend to present The Greatest with an award at a local museum. I am standing across the street from the museum in front of a restaurant. I see streams of people lining up to get into the building to see the Champ.

I get a sudden inspiration. I yell to my friend Dan and his girlfriend Laura to follow me up some stairs to an outdoor kitchen on the balcony of the restaurant. Here I assemble everything I need to create a dessert to fittingly honour the Champ. This cool treat is butter brickle ice cream. It is a toffee flavored ice cream with crushed bits of chocolate covered toffee candy similar to a Heath bar. My creation in the dream is slightly different because I add a touch of honey to the recipe. I call it "Butterfly Brickle & Sting like a Bee". I wink and say to my friends. "This is what will get us past the crowd and security guards, and into the venue to meet the Champ! He is gonna love it!".  Then I wake up.

When I was kid the Champ was a hugely popular sports celebrity and butter brickle ice cream was widely available. Well, Muhammed Ali passed away in 2016 and from what I read online the major ice cream brands no longer produce butter brickle ice cream. It makes me sad on both counts. This ice cream might have been well received in Muhammed's hey day and I feel he would have loved the idea.

I have such a craving for ice cream right now. I so want to try to recreate this in real life! I have never made ice cream myself from scratch. I have seen others do it. I am really feeling a creative impulse coming on. I need to do this. I will be on the look out for an old fashion ice cream maker. The old school method still makes the best product bar none.

Rainbow Strings

The dream this morning is so strange, simple and complex, and I will be struggling here to describe it, and not sound like a crazy person. So time to say, "screw it!".  I will just lay it out as simply as I can. Here it goes...

In the dream it is the end of the world, the universe, time and all reality has ceased as we know it.
All that remains is darkness. Suddenly, five vertical beams of light are revealed to me by God. The beams, God tells me, represent the DNA of man's kindred spirits in the animal kingdom from left to right we have 1. Dogs.2. Cats, 3.Primates, 3. Dolphins and Whales, 4. Horses, 5. All other domesticated farm animals, i.e.; Cows, Chickens, etc.,.  

God wants to share a spiritual truth with me. These animals are linked to mankind. They share much in common with us, and yet Man was esteem most high of God's creatures. When the world was God desired Man to look after and care for these particular lower animal brother and sisters. This was an important duty that God wanted us to embrace. This was one of many important spiritual lessons that God wanted to teach all of Mankind on this turn of the Great Cosmic wheel.

It seemed to me God had much more He wanted to review with me about His Grand Plan, but for some reason, He chose only this subject to reveal and review for this dream at this time. Interesting that of all the possible topics to review at the end of the Universe that this one was His first choice. I am gob smacked.

I do love to eat animals. I grew up on a farm and have butchered animals. I remember vividly the first time I killed a chicken. When I did it I had a lot of anxiety with it. When you grow up on a farm you are expected to kill things and eat them. You are not allowed to have the luxury of having a moral conscious about it. The family must eat and you must do your duty to provide.

A part of me died when I crossed the killing line. I was only 7 years old. There is no turning back the clock and getting your innocence back. Why is God showing me all this? This is a very deep rabbit hole to go down.

I have no idea what to say or think about this dream. It is a very different kind of dream. I am going to be thinking long and hard about this one for a long time.  

"Still Loving You!"

The dream this morning is music. I see myself with a guitar and I am in a room set aside in a future home just for the playing of music. I am standing behind a microphone, I am holding a guitar, and to my right just a few feet a away is a young male teen he is wearing a suit and tie. He looks to be maybe 12 or 13 years old. He is my son. I say to him, " You must learn the songs of my youth. It is my duty to teach you the music of my generation. These songs must not be forgotten."

So I start singing and playing to him a hit ballad by the Scorpions,

"Still Loving You".

Time, it needs time
To win back your love again
I will be there, I will be there
Love, only love
Can bring back your love someday
I will be there, I will be there

I'll fight, babe, I'll fight
To win back your love again
I will be there, I will be there
Love, only love
Can break down the wall someday
I will be there, I will be there

If we'd go again
All the way from the start
I would try to change
The things that killed our love
Your pride has built a wall, so strong

That I can't get through
Is there really no chance
To start once again
I'm loving you

Try, baby try
To trust in my love again
I will be there, I will be there
Love, our love
Just shouldn't be thrown away
I will be there, I will be there

If we'd go again
All the way from the start
I would try to change
The things that killed our love
Your pride has built a wall, so strong
That I can't get through
Is there really no chance
To start once again

If we'd go again
All the way from the start
I would try to change
The things that killed our love
Yes, I've hurt your pride, and I know
What you've been through
You should give me a chance
This can't be the end
I'm still loving you
I'm still loving you, I need your love
I'm still loving you

I continue on playing a medley of classic rock tunes, but there is something about this one Scorpions song that haunts me. It will forever speak to my soul and be the banner of my youth. The wife is pregnant with our first child. I am 56 years old. Never thought I would have a child. I love music. I wish I had continued to learn guitar when I was teenager.

My life went in an entirely different direction after high school and I had a 26 year career as a cook in the military. I put away foolish dreams of becoming a guitar hero and became a soldier. It doesn't get much more opposite than that.

Now, that I have impending fatherhood on my plate, I think my dream self is wanting me to re-examine old dreams and desires. Perhaps I should try to learn guitar once again? The old music must not get forever lost. What gave me joy must be shared with my progeny at least.

Current modern music is mostly crap. God, I sure hope I am around to teach my kids and I hope to singing, "Still Loving You!" to a son or daughter. We must preserve our musical heritage and pass it on.    

A Snowy Owl Vision

The dream this morning unfolds in both the dream world and the waking world. Let's review the dream version first. The dream side of this story was a brief vision. I see myself laying face up in an open field. I seem to be wearing chainmail. Am I some sort of medieval knight? and high above my head I see a grey owl circle down toward my head with it's wings widespread. I wake up before the owl can land on my head.

A while later in the waking world I am driving late at night. I glance at the car clock. It is 11:11 pm. I have been on the road driving to remote locations in Northern Lower Michigan, it is part of my job. Last night, I was driving on M-22 north of the town of Leland, near the coast of Lake Michigan. Suddenly I see something white and about 3 foot tall in road just with in the reach of my headlights. What is that? My brain cannot compute. Is it a ghost? I begin to swerve left as I get near the object. Then I see it spring to life and leap about ten feet into the air, and fly away. It is a snowy owl! I am 56 years old. I have never seen one in real life and I have waited all my life to see this one. What a magnificent sight!

*Owl Symbolism

Symbolic meanings for the owl are:

• Intuition, ability to see what others do not see
• The presence of the owl announces change
• Capacity to see beyond deceit and masks
• Wisdom
• The traditional meaning of the owl spirit animal is the announcer of death, most likely symbolic like a life transition, change

*http://www.spiritanimal.info/owl-spirit-animal/

It is interesting that the owl in the dream is descending down toward my prostrate body. Am I asleep or dead? Am I a knight fallen in battle? The owl announces change. I think the owl is bringing me wisdom. Some sort of enlightenment is descending on my mind. I sense some kind of shift in my life is coming. Right now, I think,  I am not quite seeing the whole picture of what this transition will become, but I am certainly feeling it.

The owl is a creature of the dark and has piercing vision. The suggestion here is the ability to see beyond the deception others might try to perpetrate and see what is really going on in peoples hearts, and minds.

At the same time I am seeing the snowy owl I am listening to a YouTube video about the Gemini Full Moon. Here is the link:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9RJa1F48t0

Some amazing facts: the glyph for Gemini is II and this full moon is 11 degrees in Gemini, so this day is a 11:11 day, which symbolically, astrologically, and numerically has some real significant energies, and ideas around it. 11:11 seems to be chiefly all about a new door way opening up and making some life changing choices. It is a dawning of new energy, inspiration and insight. The door to wonderful future opportunities has opened this month. There are angels and ancestors willing to offer assistance, and information. There are answers to questions coming thru from the higher realms.
This time bodes well and signs are auspicious.

It has been several weeks now since I started this blog entry, life got busy so I put the writing of it on hold, on December 18, 2017 my wife took a pregnancy test, and we discovered she is pregnant, and it was confirmed later by her doctor that she has been so for over six weeks. So my intuition about a life changing event has been fulfilled. I now regard the owl omen as a confirmation.

This new life is a miracle. The wife and I have been trying for about 3 years to conceive. It was to the point where she was about to give up. So I prayed to God, Jesus, The Holy Spirit, Mother Mary, the angels, my mother and to all my ancestors.

My life is never going to be the same again. I am going to be a dad! I wish my mama was here to see it. I know she is watching on from the other side. She died at the age of 59. Mama you left us too soon. I know you are free of pain and worry now. I just wish you could feel the joy that I feel now and that you could meet my wife, and your coming grandchild. I love you forever and miss you.  

The Old Ship That Came In

The dream this morning was about my old Coast Guard Ship, USCGC STORIS, station in Kodiak, Alaska. I served on her many years ago for quite a long time. Those days were some of the best times in my 26 year military career. That historic and beloved ship was murdered in a Mexican scrap yard after her retirement several years ago. It is a long sordid story of deceit and government corruption. The whole incident is so painful that I cannot retell it. To tell it here again would be to relive it and I would be forced to drown my sorrows in booze.

In the dream I see myself at a seaport. There is a pier and an old bridge nearby. The bridge looks a lot like the Brooklyn bridge. Maybe I am in New York? My friend Jonathan is with me. I look down to the water and I see a ship moored there and I say to Jonathan, "Look it is a Coast Guard ship! It looks exactly like the ship I served on in the Coast Guard!". We both run down the pier. I took up to the bridge of the ship and I see a seaman standing there. I yell to him, "Permission to come aboard!" He gives me a look that is a combination of annoyance and disgust. He glares a me and decides to ignore me. A few crew members disembark and suddenly I watch the ship go through a mechanical transformation like some kind of Transformer robot. The Coast Guard Cutter becomes a tall mast sailing schooner. I am dumbstruck and wake up.

Today is Veteran's Day here is the U.S. and I am feeling a turmoil of emotions. No surprise that I have a dream related to significant part of my personal history. I got a plaque from my boss at Wal-Mart today for being an honourable serving veteran and a thank you for my service. It was nice and I could not hold back my tears.  I think about all my fellow vets that are longer here and who will never get to enjoy the recognition. Better men who are real heroes are not here with us now.

A few years ago I was in Detroit and was in a restaurant, and met some fellow Coast Guardsmen. I tried to make small talk with them. They, like the seaman in my dream were not interested and were very cold toward me. I was polite toward them. I have been out of the service for so long that active duty people cannot relate to me or I to them very well it would seem.

I never served in combat. My service contribution is not regarded very highly by those who have served in war zones.  I am seen as a second rate soldier and sailor by most of those who have been deployed. I feel shame in that so I don't much brag about my time in service. It is ironic I use battlebauble as my blog handle. I am BFF with irony.

The transformation of the cutter into schooner is an interesting aspect in this dream. Something modern becomes something archaic. Kind of like me. It was forced to reinvent myself once I retired from active duty. I went from being homeless to getting a place to live, a job and a wife. I am different now yet I am still old fashion me. I am rediscovering myself. So much of my identity was centred around my life as a service member. Now I am 35 years older and I work circles around 20 something's. I am a schooner sailing with battleships. I might not have the big guns, but damn, I get the job done and look classy, and historic while doing it.

There is an old saying that is used for a person who has achieved great success or a just reward, people say, "His ship came in". For me you could say my old ship came in and become an even older ship. For some their dream will arrived the way they expected it to, for others their dream will never arrive. For myself life and my dreams have unfolded in so many unexpected ways. The quality of the voyage seems more important than the final destination. As always, this is another dream that has left me pondering and perplexed about what to do with.

I am sleepy. It is time to sail away and see where the next dream takes me...     



 

The Power of Music

The dream this morning takes place in a walled city. The circumstance of this walled city reminds me of the story of East Berlin or the Warsaw Ghetto. In the dream I see lots of people have been brought here. A new fascist state has come to power in America. The city has been filled with political prisoners and they have been gathered together for re-education.

I see hundreds of adult men and women all dressed in simple navy blue sweat pants and shirts with uniform billed caps. Everyone is forced to march like soldiers to mandatory classes. The only break from this routine are meals and political rallies.

One particular group of about 50 prisoners is the city marching band. The band assembles every day after lunch in the bleachers of an empty foot ball stadium. No one seems to play sports any more. The conductor or band leader is a member of the Revolution Party. This man is their Propaganda officer, music teacher and guard. He carries a side arm and wears gold epaulettes on his uniform denoting his status in the Party. There several guards keeping a close eye on the band practice from a distance.

The band practices every day. Every member of the group has been hand selected by the Warden for this duty. Some people were musicians before the dark days of the Revolution, others had no prior  musical training at all and had to be taught everything from scratch.

The only music this band is taught and are allowed play are State approved military marching tunes or political rally symphonies. No music from the pre-war days is allowed. Every recording and sheet of music has been destroyed, or burned, from the before times in a effort to erase all prior music history.

The powers that be have worked hard to reinvent a society that reflects what is in their twisted minds. It's a lot like what North Korea must be like right now. The Fascists think they are on their way to creating a new Socialist Utopia in their image, but there are cracks in the façade. All is not what it appears to be.

Suddenly, I see a young boy run up to the band leader. The leader leans down to the boy who whispers an urgent message in his ear. The band leader hurries away to take care of some emergency. This sort of thing never has happened before. A secondary low ranking party band leader must stand in for the officer. He takes over and begins conducting the band practice.

The band starts to play one of the standard stale propaganda pieces. Everyone is seated. Then the unexpected happens! Up in the upper left section of the bleachers three musicians in the horn section stand up and start playing "If you think I'm sexy, by Rod Stewart". This inspired moment of rebellion starts a cascade of little groups within the band standing up and each taking a turn at playing snippets of the forbidden music from every genre from before the dark times. I find it thrilling to watch them play! They may be prisoners, but they still have the free spirit of old America in their souls. I wake up with a secret smile of my face.

The whole take a knee protest from the National Football League players upset me to a great degree. It was an insult to all Americans who love our Flag, our Anthem and our Country. I am in solidarity with everyone who shouted in anger, burned their NFL gear, and the boycotted the league, and their sponsors.

This dream reflects the deep emotional angst the protests have stirred in my unconscious. I am seeing so much censorship and political correctness going on in our nation at the moment. I worry for the future of my beautiful country. I don't want to wake up one day to 1984.

True Americans march to the beat of a different drummer. Our oppressors may think they will break us and rule over us in some Socialist paradise. The True Patriots resist tyranny in all it's forms.