Lost Keys


skeletonkeysLast night’s dream found me, along with a crush of other people, gently meandering up and down one of those lovely, mature, treelined neighborhoods that skirt urban areas. The homes were stately, beautiful and flawlessly maintained. They stood close together with their small, clipped yards touching one another. One front door in particular attracted my attention.  It was a red lacquered affair with a flawless, high sheen. Red is my favorite color.

It was dark; only the glow from lamp posts lighted our way. The air was the essence of autumn: clean and crisp, but lying just beneath the surface was that unmistakable, rich, loamy scent, the earmark of fall. Leaves fell from overhanging trees as H and I walked under them. It was Halloween, but not a child was in sight, not a witch, not a devil, not even a single princess was abroad on this beautiful fall night. Only adults roamed the streets in a slow, relaxed, carnival-like stroll. Though it was Halloween, it was a different kind of Halloween; it was Halloween for adults only.

There were no costumes. Everyone wore seasonal clothing: sweaters, jeans, lightweight jackets, and the occasional scarf around the neck. H and I walked up the sidewalk to the house with the red door. We entered. There was an elaborate buffet of cheeses, dips, canapés, pumpkin pies and mulled cider. We ate and drank and enjoyed. When we had our fill, we left, but no sooner than we’d left the house and rejoined the throng, I realized that I’d forgotten my keys. I went back inside immediately. Only a few seconds had passed, but my keys were gone. I searched and searched, but could not find them. How would we get home?

Note: On a long-ago Halloween, when I was about eleven-years-old, I recall going to a  neighborhood that was similar to the one in my dream. My mother and I were visiting my sister in Connecticut, and we took my two nieces trick-or-treating.

Another stress/frustration dream in which I lost something important and could not find it. I’ve had several of these recently. This was such a sweet dream until I realized I’d lost something. What did it mean?

Interpretation of Losing Keys in Dream
Among other things: “Lost keys may also represent feeling lost or feeling a loss of control, power or authority in some aspect of life; may also symbolize a lost or missed opportunity.
Source: DreamsCloud

I found a couple of interpretations for losing keys in a dream. They offered similar analysis, but this one resonated with me, and more closely identifies a niggling annoyance at the moment, when referring to a “lost opportunity.” A decision I made in the past has come back to bite, and has recently begun to weigh on my mind.

Interpretation of Doors
A choice of many doorways represents a difficult decision you must make in real life.
Source: Dream Interpretation

To dream that you are entering through a door signifies new opportunities that are presented before you. You are entering into a new stage in your life and moving from one level of consciousness to another. In particular, a door that opens into the inside denotes your desire for inner exploration and self-discovery. Source: Dream Moods

I like the idea of “new opportunities” since I’m not thrilled with the “lost opportunity” that the lost keys symbolized. If you remember, there were many doors from which to choose and that represents a “difficult decision.” Lot’s of food for thought.

Speaking of food…

Interpretation of Eating in a Dream
To dream that you are eating with others signifies harmony, intimacy, merriness, prosperous undertakings, personal gain, and/or joyous spirits. Source: Dream Moods

I’ll take it!!

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Ronald Reagan Dream

ronald_reagan_wI added another president to my esteemed list of presidential dreams – another Republican. I seem to dream more often about Republicans than Democrats, though one of my funniest presidential dreams was a cheesy affair that included President Obama, Vice President Joe Biden, and Secretary John Kerry. A trifecta.

Last night, I dreamed about Ronald Reagan for the first time. I was at a celebration of his life. There were speeches, a movie and lots of food and drink and people. There was standing room only. I found one of his daughters (I don’t know if it was Maureen or Patti), and said nice things about her father.

Free post cards were available for people who wanted to write a note for the family. For some unknown reason, I wanted to put mine in an envelope. I found a stack of envelopes on a table. I put my written post card down to pull an envelope out, and when I was ready to put it in the envelope, I realized there were hundreds of other post cards on the table, and I couldn’t find mine. It had disappeared in the pile. It seemed very important that I find it, but it also seemed an impossible task. It was extremely frustrating.

This is not an exciting dream, but I had to post it because it adds another president to the collection. I wonder who will be next?

Parasomnia

sleepwalking-1-2Originally Written: January 12, 2017

H is still sleeping, but I’ve been up a while. I got a good night’s sleep, not waking until 4:44. That’s almost 5:00 a.m., and I consider 5:00 a.m. to be honest-to-goodness morning time. The night was uneventful. I don’t recall any dreams, and I didn’t swing on H or run into a wall or piece of furniture, or sit up in bed screaming at someone only I could see. In my book, that’s a thumbs-up kind of night. Speaking of books, I just ordered a new book. It’s a thriller/detective: The Sleepwalker by Chris Bohjalian. I’ve never read this author and know little about the book, but honestly… could I pass up a title like that?

I’ve finally come to the full-fledged realization that I’m a bona fide sleepwalker. I’ve probably taken this too lightly for a while, believing that these were only widely spaced, semi-isolated incidents that would eventually go away, or at the very least, would not become dangerous.

There were long stretches without any incidents, but they slowly increased in frequency and intensity. They started out with me sitting up in bed and yelling at someone only I could see, then a rebellious hand knocking water off a nightstand or hitting the headboard, and eventually to where I find myself today, running into furniture, tripping over things, jumping up and down and spinning in circles.

I had another dream a few nights ago. Putin had poisoned Barbara Walters, and she was dying. She asked me to get her purse and camera that she’d left in another room and a newspaper article she’d been reading. When I attempted to retrieve them, a man tried to wrestle the purse and camera out of my hands. I swung on him, and I hit H in the mouth. This is a problem. I suggested that he start sleeping in another room, but no go with that idea. He’s afraid I’ll kill myself in the middle of a crazy dream. The guard rail for the bed has not arrived, but it should be here soon.

Dream Interpretations
Dictator
To dream of a dictator may symbolize an over controlling father or father figure.

Yep to that one.

Celebrity
To dream that you are good friends with a celebrity represents your idealized version of someone you know in your life. Perhaps you hope that a real-life friend can act more like a particular celebrity. Consider the qualities that you see in this celebrity and how you want your friends to have those qualities.
Source: Dream Moods

Sure, Barbara Walters can hang with me anytime!

Poison
To see poison in your dream denotes that you need to get rid of something in your life that is causing you much sickness and distress. You need to cleanse and purge away the negativity in your life.
Source: Dream Moods

I didn’t actually see poison in my dream, but this was the coolest interpretation I could find. I don’t have a lot of negativity in my life, thankfully. I can’t make sense of this one.

Sonmanbulism

sleepwalking1Originally Written: January  7, 2017

It’s a little after 4:00 a.m. and it’s snowing. I opened the front door and flicked on the outside light. It looks like the inside of a snow glob after a child carelessly shakes it up and down. How can anything be so beautiful? I’m sitting here in the office, an old afghan wrapped around my shoulders, and comfy socks on my feet. H puts them in my stocking every year. Beyond soft and warm, they are delicious.

I had another sleep incident on Thursday night, the worst one yet. A few years ago, I participated in one of those sleep studies. There were two slightly unusual events. My legs twitched uncontrollably a few times. The other event was a little more unusual. I moved during REM sleep. REM sleep is when you receive your deepest and most restful sleep, and it’s when you dream due to heightened brain activity. We are asleep about 90 minutes before we reach REM and must go through several stages of non-REM sleep to get there. Paralysis occurs during REM sleep. It’s a safety mechanism that prevents us from acting out our dreams. We could dream that we’re jumping off the roof to take a little fly about. Oops! You can see why it’s important that we can not move during REM.

On Thursday night, I dreamed that my friend Patsy and I were vacationing, and we found a place where we could, for a fee, go on a boat ride. They had two boats. One was a huge, double-decker affair and the other was a yacht. I was holding one of my Pyrex containers that was filled with fresh asparagus. They were beautiful. When we entered the place, a man told me he was going to have to charge me for my asparagus. I told him we were going to buy a ticket for a boat ride, and he said, “Well, maybe I won’t charge you for the asparagus.”

We bought our tickets ($145.00 each) and got in line. Patsy asked me how we were going to return. I said, “The boat will bring us back.” She told me that the boat would not bring us back. It was a one-way trip, it was about 100 miles away, and we would have to find our own transportation back. I said, “It’s too far to walk back, and too expensive to get a taxi, and we don’t have bikes. Maybe we should eat the price of the tickets and stay here. She agreed, and we got out of line and started for the door. The man appeared again, and asked where we were going. Patsy told him we were not going on the boat ride. He eyed my asparagus, and I realized he was going to take them from me. I took off with incredible speed for the door.

The next thing I knew:

I ran into the fan (I sleep with a fan even in winter). I knocked it over, and slammed into the antique marble-top dresser, shoving it back a couple of inches, dislodging the marble, and pushing it back an inch or so. Do you know how heavy marble is? I crashed my hands into one of the drawers, bumped my knee, and managed to hit my chin on the way down. H flew out of the bed. I was stunned. He put a blanket over me and a pillow under my head until we could assess the damage – to me, not the dresser.

I’m okay. My knuckles on my right hand are swollen, and they sting inside, but they’re feeling better. My knee is okay. My chin is sore, but nothing is broken. A while ago, the solution-oriented Jean of Misadventures of Widowhood suggested that a bed rail would be a good idea. At that point, I didn’t think this would continue. Obviously I was wrong. I found a bed rail that will flip down during the daytime so it isn’t visible. I like that. Thanks for the idea, Jean.

No more sleep-walking blog fodder.

It’s supposed to snow until this afternoon. Yesterday, I picked up some ground chuck and beans and tomatoes and spices to make chili. H actually makes it most of the time. I still can’t believe that he cooks now. It will be a quiet day at home. I know you guys up north don’t get excited about snow, but we don’t get it so often down here anymore. As long as the power stays on, I enjoy the quiet beauty of it because I know it will be gone in a day or two, and who knows when it will return?

Union Steward Dream

Originally Written: December 20. 2016

It’s 3:30 a.m. I woke from a dream, or maybe H woke me. It’s a good thing that he’s such a good sleeper. He barely wakes before he’s back asleep. I dreamed the other night that he was back at work and fighting with a union steward. That never happened in real life.

Supernatural

Originally Written: September 25, 2016

It’s the wee hours of the morning. I woke from an awful dream, kicking and screaming and finally pulling myself awake. I was a nurse and trying to get information from an elderly patient before his procedure. His son attacked me, and when I started kicking and screaming, my feet went right through him. He was not human. I woke while kicking the covers sky-high. I think it’s easy to figure out where this came from. I’m beginning to think about a procedure I have to have, an ablation. It isn’t too far away now.

Fill That Hole

Originally Written: May 13, 2016

I had an incident a couple of days ago. I woke with heaviness and a dull pain in my chest. It was bad enough that it actually woke me. I was dreaming that I was shoveling spadefuls of dirt into a huge trench that ran the length of the front yard of our first house. I remember saying, “I will fill this hole if it’s the last thing I do.” Then I woke with a huge weight on my chest.