The Art of Dreaming (Part III) Childhood Nightmares

I can remember bits and pieces of my life as far back as age 3 or 4 (as most people can). Some of the most vivid memories I've had over all those years are of some really silly, bizarre dreams and nightmares - some of which I would classify as recurring. One memorable dream of the silly variety occurred when I was in my early teens. In the dream I was outdoors late at night (as there was no traffic) being pulled in a little red wagon on the sidewalk. I could see that I was on Sarnia Street about a block west of Mankato Avenue (near Grandma Shirley's of course). With me in the red wagon was a bag of empty aluminum cans. At first I couldn't see who was pulling me in the wagon. Finally the person turned toward me and I could plainly see that it was Mr Spock (of the show Star Trek). He didn't speak. He just kept silently pulling me west on the sidewalk. Soon after, he turned again and he had somehow changed into Mick Jagger (lead singer of The Rolling Stones). Right then I woke up.

Another memorable dream I had around that same time also took place near Grandma Shirley's (as many of them did). I was outside in Grandma's back yard. As it really was years ago, the entire back yard was flooded. The weather was bright and sunny and the flood of water appeared crystal clear. From the edge, I could see to the bottom of the shallow water. At the bottom, I could see a strange pattern of mud. For as far out as I could see, the mud was patterned in light and dark stripes. Each stripe was about a foot wide. I then was somehow aware that the lighter colored stripes of mud would suck a person in like quicksand if stepped on. I then noticed my uncle Bob running around out in the water. For some reason he was wearing an old-fashioned looking Tarzan outfit. I immediately tried calling out to him to be careful not to step on the light colored mud. Of course, he didn't listen to me. He just kept laughing and running around. Fortunately he never stepped in the "bad" mud. I hope Bob listens better in real life.

The most memorable recurring nightmare I ever had (memorable for my family as well) took place when I was really young - maybe in the age range of 3, 4, or 5 years old. Apparently I had this particular dream quite a bit, but I can only remember two occurrences. The scariest part of both dreams was the fact that I had them while I was awake - as kind of a hallucination of sorts. The first one happened at - you guessed it - Grandma Shirley's house. It was late at night and I was apparently awake, got up and walked over to the kitchen and turned the light on. My uncle Jerry (who was - and still is - younger than I) woke up and joined me. As soon as my eyes focused, I stood transfixed on an object standing in front of the stove - a brightly colored yellow chair (which I later named "The Blue Chair" for some reason) with an even brighter red, multi-pointed star on it's back rest. As I stared at the chair, I somehow sensed that it was alive and it was watching me. I knew if I ran away that it would chase me. I began to cry. Jerry, seeing me panic and sob - but not seeing any kind of living chair - began to cry as well. Soon after, my older uncle Bob (who must have been in his early teens at the time) walked in to see what the fuss was about. The chair was gone. Bob, then, picked up both of us and rocked us back to sleep (pretty nice for a young teenage kid, I think). The second time this waking dream occurred was during one of my trips to California with both my mom and dad. I don't know if we were in a hotel or a small temporary apartment, but I recall being put into a large bed with orange covers in a dark bedroom that I was not familiar with. My mom tucked me in, turned out the light, and walked into the living room area (leaving the bedroom door open a hair). Within minutes of laying in bed, I recall turning my head to the right and seeing that dreaded bright yellow chair right next to the bed. It was turned toward me. I remember it looking just as real as the rest of the objects in the dimly lit room. Frightened, I quickly put the covers over my head and yelled out for my mom. While I waited for a response, I carefully turned my head to the right again and could still see that thing right through the thin covers - looking just like any other object in the room as it would look filtered through thin orange fabric! As soon as my mom entered the room, the chair was gone.

A lot of things can happen with dreams, making them fun to talk about. In my opinion, they are the result of the resting brain trying to contemplate one's feelings and worries. As interesting and varied as the human personalities that have them, dreams can open up wonderfully creative discussions. Let me hear about your childhood and/or most memorable dreams.......

The Art of Dreaming (Part II) "Strange Connections"

Once in a while, a dreaming experience is so strange, so memorable, I remember it for years after. One such dream took place many years ago when I was in my early twenties and living in Grandma Shirley's basement. I recall dreaming that I was on an ice filled planet. The landscape was simply flat, smooth ice for as far as I could see in every direction. Close inspection of the ice showed that it was made up of multiple swirling colors - colors in patterns not unlike the colors viewed in a water puddle with oil floating on the top (only brighter). I then recalled in the dream that I had ice skates on and spent a good portion of the dream trying to skate to the end of the ice - to no avail. At that point of the dream, a hole opened up in the ice right under my feet. The hole did not lead to water underneath. I simply started sliding backward down the gently sloped edge and because it was pure ice, I could not stop myself from sliding further and further into the hole. At the point that I could no longer see out of the hole, I suddenly found myself in Grandma Shirley and Grandpa Artie's garage - still falling into a hole, but now the hole was in the floor of the garage. The hole appeared to be right where the hoist would normally be located (on the right side of the garage). As I clawed at the edges of the hole in a frightened panic, I woke up.

Later in the morning as I sleepily walked upstairs, I immediately encountered Grandma Shirley talking to another family member (I don't remember who). She was describing a dream she had the previous night in which she found herself falling into a hole in the floor of the garage! The only difference in our dreams (other than my dream starting out on another planet) is that the hole was located in a different spot. The hole that Grandma Shirley fell into was on the left side.

Cue Twilight Zone music...........