Here comes the judge

I was in a conference room, sitting around a table with a number of people. An older man, rotund and balding, treated me with disdain. I didn’t know why. So, I left the room and found myself in the large hall of a movie theatre (when distressed, go see a movie). There were cushioned seats along the wall, and I sat down. A young woman came over and sat next to me.

But then the conference broke up and everyone spilled into the hallway. Why was my mom there? I walked toward her and started complaining that the balding man didn’t know a thing about me. Why did he pre-judge me like that? She started to say something but I woke up.

To bee or not to bee

All I can remember about my dreams last night is that there was a big swarm of bees and I was not happy about it.

Step into the light

I woke up this morning, knowing I'd just been dreaming, but I couldn't remember anything. I waited for a minute or two, because sometimes an image will come to me after a while, which calls up the rest of the dream. Nothing.

While typing the above, though, I remembered one part. I was standing at the top of the basement stairs. The electricity was off. But, when I took a step down, everything lit up. Once downstairs I looked back up and saw my daughter hesitating in the doorway. I told her to not be afraid. That as soon as she took a step she'd see the light (sounds almost like a self-help book, doesn't it?).

Germ conscious

I was approaching a red light. The only thing—I was missing a car. I was walking. Also, everyone was, okay, I know this will really sound strange but, everyone was supposed to somehow kiss the light to make it turn green. I thought in my dream that I didn’t want to do that, not because it was weird, mind you, but because I might give others the cold I had. Luckily, the light turned green and I walked right through it, relieved to keep my microorganisms to myself.

No parent of the year award for me

I dreamed I took my four kids (and in my dream they were younger than they are now, I would guess ages 5-12) to visit a man who was rumored to be insane. He said his name was Wayne Gacy (that's what I get for watching a TV show about serial killers the other day). He had a child-like face and was eerily mild-mannered. He told me I reminded him of his sister-in-law (I thought in my dream: is this a good or bad thing?) then got tears in his eyes and gave me a big hug. Thankfully, we left unscathed.

The middle part of the dream is jumbled in my memory. Something to do with my ex taking our daughter back to Gacy’s house then bringing her home, then they were supposed to go again later and watch a movie, but she didn’t want to go, then I went to Gacy’s house with a group of athletes to shoot some footage for some kind of commercial and they were doing somersaults in his living room, and then when he came in I told him my daughter wouldn’t be coming back because she didn’t feel well, and he said my ex had already called about that, and then I felt panicky, wondering if we'd given him the same excuse.

But, then, we were time-warped back to the beginning of my dream and the kids and I were leaving Gacy’s house for the first time. I don’t know why, but I let my youngest child drive home (he was now at his present age of 14). It was raining heavily and all of a sudden the street flooded. He veered to the right and the car went into a ditch. We decided to walk. The water rose to our waists and then we started swimming.

Lucid dreaming

from answers.com

Lucid dreaming is consciously perceiving and recognizing that one is in a dream while one is sleeping, and having control over the "dreamscape", or the faux-reality dream world within a dream. Stephen LaBerge, a published author and expert on the subject, has defined it as simply realizing that one is dreaming while in a dream. Other authorities contend that in order for the state of a dreaming person to be lucid, that person must have control over his or her dreamscape (because simply having the mental idea "I am lucid" could be a creation of the subconscious itself and not a real "rational" thought). Lucid dreamers, called oneironauts, report being able to freely remember the circumstances of waking life, think cogently, and act deliberately upon reflection, all while experiencing a dreamscape that seems vividly real...read more here.

Clean that mess up, or Hair of a different color

The kids and I were looking at a dilapidated townhouse, and I was actually thinking of buying it. Then we realized Ikuni’s friend was coming over. We raced home to clean like crazy people. I dumped a bunch of stuff in a drawer. Then stood around, not knowing where to hide the newspaper.

For some reason, tiny nails had been spilled all over the foyer. As Ikuni’s friend and her mom pulled in the driveway, I was still trying to pick the nails up one by one. Decided to forget that and got the shop vac.

Next thing I knew I was getting my hair colored by a friend who lives out of town. Her daughter walked in and her hair was purple. My color attempt: blonde. I looked like Sandra Dee. Then my friend was on the news. I don’t know why. The last thing I remember was that we were going to try a different hair color.

Hardly slept enough to dream

I've got an awful cold and was up half the night coughing and blowing my nose. But, I do remember one, brief dream image. I was standing at a closet (I don't think it was mine) and staring at the clothes.

Jekyll and Hyde

"I can but give an instance or so of what part is done sleeping and what part awake…and to do this I will first take…Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I had long been trying to write a story on this subject. For two days I went about wracking my brains for a plot of any sort, and on the second night I dreamed the scene at the window and a scene afterward split in two, in which Hyde, pursued for some crime, took the powder and underwent the change in the presence of his pursuers. All the rest was made awake, and consciously."

~Robert Louis Stevenson

"Sink me, the lady's (not) a poet"

I wrote a poem and showed it to someone (my sister, maybe?). She skimmed it quickly and said, "I don't like it." "You didn't even read it," I said. "I can just tell I don't like it," she replied. I snatched the paper out of her hands and walked away.

I take it back!

Before going to sleep last night, I did no.4 of How to Remember Dreams. I repeated to myself, “I will remember my dream, I will remember my dream, I will remember my dream.” Well. I woke up the next morning and my first thought was, “I want to forget my dream, I want to forget my dream, I want to forget my dream!”

My dream: a colony of centipede-like bugs had set up home in my body. And I’m not elaborating further, because I don’t want to cement anymore of it in my memory!

Would you like some fruit with that murder?

I remembered two dreams last night. One silly and one scary.

In the first, we had an in-ground pool, and for some reason we took hundreds or oranges and threw them in it. When my mom came to visit, I proudly showed her the oranges floating on the water, some of which had expanded to the size of beach balls.

In my other dream, a young woman shakily held a loaded gun and pointed it at the head of a sleeping man. She pulled the trigger and then fell prostrate on the floor. He wasn’t dead, though, and grabbed her by the feet. Panicking, she struggled away from him. He moved toward her but then screamed and collapsed. (I say I dreamed this due to watching Bravo's The 100 Scariest Movie Moments).

How to Remember Dreams

from ehow.com

We spend about 25 percent of our sleep time dreaming. But dreams all too often disappear as soon as we awaken, and we can't remember a thing.

1. Relax before bed. Take a hot bath with aromatherapy soaps, drink herbal tea, listen to meditation tapes - whatever works best for you.

2. Think about and write down important things on your mind. Write down subjects you also would like to dream about.

3. Keep those items in mind when you get into bed but don't concentrate too hard. That might keep you awake.

4. Tell yourself that you will remember your dream. Repeat "I will remember my dream" several times to yourself as you drift off to sleep.

5. Wake up naturally, if possible, without an alarm clock. Try not to move until you can recall your dream from the night before.

6. Record your dream before you get out of bed. Keep a journal and pen or tape recorder by your bedside for easy access. (or visit Dream Journal and post it!)

To read more click here.

Ms. Clean

I was at some kind of conference. There was a large auditorium filled with people and a speaker at a podium. The only thing I seemed concerned about, though, was that I needed to wash my hands. I found a restroom, went to the sink, turned on the water and picked up the soap. But, I couldn’t get the bar to lather. I turned it over and over in my hands. I finally gave up, rinsed, and rejoined the conference.

Sleepshopping

I was with my sister, and we were walking from a parking lot toward a department store. On the sidewalk, there was a crumpled tissue on the ground. I picked it up (would never do that in real life!) and threw it onto a pile of other waded tissues.

Once inside the crowded store my sister said she needed a whole new wardrobe but didn’t know where to start. I asked if she’d like to look for a basic black blazer (at least, I had some sense in this dream). She said yes, and we started moving between racks of clothes.

Eeww!

"A beautiful girl once told me of a recurring nightmare in which she lay in the center of a large dark room and felt her face expand until it filled the whole room, becoming a formless mass while her eyes ran in bilious jelly up the chimney." ~Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man

The only thing I remember

My dreams have been vanishing lately. I wake up and know I've been dreaming but can't remember a thing. This morning, though, one image stayed with me. I had just typed a blog post and inserted a link. I previewed the post and saw that the link was highlighted.

The case of the missing car and broken shoe strap

It was a sunny afternoon. We were in a parking lot. The head of the accounting department at my work was upset because her car had been stolen. We began a search. Suddenly, it was night, and I was walking through the backyards of a number of expensive homes. At the end of one yard there was a stone fence. I looked over and saw a huge field, with multitudes of large hay stacks. We thought the car might be hidden beneath one of the stacks. We followed a muddy dirt road to an opening in the stone wall, but then the field disappeared and a building complex was there instead. It was under construction. We walked through it, looking for the car. Through a doorway, I could see a man with a scowl on his face. Next, we weren’t looking for the car anymore, but I (as the “objective dreamer”) felt the man and his girlfriend were part of a conspiracy to murder us one by one. The “me” in my dream, however, was oblivious to this. We were going to some kind of party, and the strap broke on one of my shoes. I borrowed a pair of 5-inch stilettos from the girlfriend and we left. That’s all I can remember. I know I dreamed more, but it’s too fuzzy.

Scattered images

All I can remember of my dreams last night: trying to get backstage while lots of actors push past me, standing in a store and holding up a pair of pink shorts, driving down a busy street, while a dancer stops traffic in front of me.

One of these things is not like the others

When I woke up this morning I knew I'd dreamed something but couldn’t remember anything at first. As I was getting up, though, an image came to me then I remembered more...

I was driving. I needed to buy something, flowers maybe? There was a building, a hospital, I think, with multiple entrances. I pulled around to the back. A nurse came out and asked what I needed. I told her. She directed me to the front entrance and showed me into the gift shop (my vehicle had vanished and I was walking now). The gift shop turned out to be a maternity store. As I made my way between racks of items, I realized every woman there was either pregnant or a new mother. I felt out of place, being 40-something and having had a hysterectomy. I then dreamed about being in an auditorium and listening to a guy speak about something. I remember feeling out of place there, too. Hmm...I see a pattern.

"Many's the long night

I've dreamed of cheese toasted, mostly."

~Robert Louis Stevenson, Treasure Island.
(Quote found on The Dream Tree)

Vans, rock bands, and please, don’t step on the flowers

I was with my mom and daughter. I can’t remember where, but we were leaving for home. We walked into the parking lot. On the way to my mom’s vehicle, we saw two vans parked way too close to each other, their front fenders almost locked together. We stopped to examine them. Next thing I remember, we were parked on a side street and mom said this was a better way to get to our house. I saw a long sidewalk. I said, “Oh, good, that way we don’t have to cross the street.”

While walking, though, all of a sudden the sidewalk (which before had been aged with plants growing into it) disappeared and was now under construction. Then, for some reason, we just waltzed into someone else’s house. They were remodeling. The walls were mint green, and there was no furniture. My mom disappeared from the dream at this point, and now it was only my daughter and me. A young man, about age eighteen, came in. I quickly explained why we were in his house (the explanation eludes me, now). He seemed fine with two strangers being there. I commented that the inside of his home was much bigger than what the house looked like from the street. He agreed.

Three other young men appeared. They said they were forming a rock band. I asked if they needed a drummer or a bass player, because I knew two guys who might be interested. The two guys were my sons, and I thought this to myself but didn’t say it to the young men standing around us in a semi-circle. They said they didn’t need anyone.

One of the young men started playing his guitar. The only thing was—the strings were loose, and they grew longer and looser as he played. He picked them up and slid his fingers along them. The guitar sounded almost like a violin. I marveled at this and tried it for myself. I slid my thumb and index finger along a string. To make a sound I had to press hard and could actually feel the string cutting into my skin.

Next thing I knew all of us had left the house and were headed toward my home (which now was across the street), and my daughter and I were barefoot. The front yard was covered with flowers. I walked to the driveway to get to the street, so as not to smash the flowers or possibly step on a bee. As we approached my house I started waving and pleading for the young men not to go in. It was a mess inside. They went in anyway. One of them held up a key or something. I woke up.

Dream Warrior

image from AllPosters.com

Hand me the giant size can of Raid

Wish I had a nicer dream to record. Mine was about a huge bug—sort of like a blown-up beetle. It was about a foot long, with yellow spots on it. I was standing in the living room and could see it in the kitchen. My ex was there (he’s in my dreams a bit too often, lately). He grabbed something and whacked the bug over and over, but it wouldn’t die. Instead, it turned around and started inching in my direction. Then the bug wasn’t a bug, it looked like a large coconut. My ex split it open and the two halves wobbled then stopped. I was afraid it was going to move again but then my alarm sounded.

Fact and fiction

I only remember a few scattered images from a dream I had last night. They were all from my real life but put together in such a way that was unreal. Images of a doctor's office, my ex-husband, and my new car. Interesting.

About us

MUSING

I am: a mom of four young adults. a published writer. an accounts receivable coordinator.

I value: authenticity. loyalty. spontaneity.

I love: white chocolate. orange chicken. annie dillard. shakespeare. thelonious monk. hyde. john singer sargent. cinema paradiso. almost famous. and japan.


IKUNI

I am: an artist, passionate, my mother’s daughter, stubborn, and kind I hope.

I value: love, art, tolerance even in the face of intolerance, and humor in all situations.

I love: poetry, music, my mom, my “special friend,” life, momentary lapses in judgment, and all those little annoying habits that make people who they are.



Images: details from “Donna con Ventaglio”
and “Emilie Floege” by Gustav Klimt

What did you dream last night?

This site is for sharing dreams--sad, funny, weird, scary. Feel free to tell us yours in the comments section. Or if you'd like your dream to be considered for posting on our main page then email it to us at sharedream[at]insightbb[dot]com.

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We're looking for solid writing. Show don't tell. We're especially looking for gut honest retellings. Also, anything humorous. You can insert witty commentary but don't overdue it. We prefer clever word usage when narrating the dream itself. Scary, weird and other kinds of dreams are great, too. Nothing obscene or discriminatory, though. And no more than 500 words.

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Okay now that all that stuff's out of the way, we're looking forward to hearing your dreams!