Last night's short dream. I was inside an older house that was (apparently) recently purchased by my parents; it was kind of empty in that "not yet moved in" kind of way. It was located on Long Island, right off the Whitestone Bridge entrance, and I recalled thinking "Dad's moving home" (Dad passed away in 1979). Neither of my parents was in the dream though or in the house, just me and Elo, my dog. I walked around the house, the doors and windows were mostly open. I think the kitchen door had been left open overnight.
I took Elo out on a leash; he chased a squirrel who seemed a little too unafraid, not used to a dog in its yard. A couple of neighborhood dogs came around to check out the new arrival, and I was concerned about Elo getting into a fight with one of them.
Then, I ran into a young yoga teacher who was talking about her iPad; think she was teaching classes online or something, and I did not have much to say to her. And then an older yoga teacher came by who commented "I see you're addicted to sugar" and I replied "I see you're not very yogic" and she smiled and I got the feeling we were going to be friends.
Showing posts with label Dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dreams. Show all posts
February 12, 2015
January 30, 2014
My Left Hand
A very vivid and remembered dream last night.
I dreamed I was at a party or function at the home of Dan, my fellow guitarist from The Guinea Pigs. During the party, there was a yoga class, taught by Ana Forrest (of all people; I've practiced with her a few times in the past but she's not really that present in my life right now) in the middle of the street (it was a cul-de-sac, in the dream). Somewhere in the practice, I attempted handstand (not a pose I do unsupported) and folded over or injured my left hand.
Flash forward to the next day; my hand injury has taken the form of slicing away significant parts of my four fingers - the index finger and pinky were pared down to the knuckle, the other fingers had more remaining but still pretty bad. The injuries had healed (no blood) and I was back talking to Dan and his wife Nancy about it (had they noticed this yesterday? Had I bled in their house? Did they find the remnants of my fingers?). I remember telling them not to worry about a lawsuit; I was not that type of person and besides it had happened in the street, not in their house.
And I remember having a deep sadness because the injury meant I would never play the guitar or bass again, and that it would impact my ability to teach and practice yoga.
At that moment, I woke up. The dream was so vivid and real that I immediately went to my left hand, found it to be intact, and was filled with a deep joy and happiness.
The whole thing reminded me of a zen story or parable I have heard, paraphrased here.
I dreamed I was at a party or function at the home of Dan, my fellow guitarist from The Guinea Pigs. During the party, there was a yoga class, taught by Ana Forrest (of all people; I've practiced with her a few times in the past but she's not really that present in my life right now) in the middle of the street (it was a cul-de-sac, in the dream). Somewhere in the practice, I attempted handstand (not a pose I do unsupported) and folded over or injured my left hand.
Flash forward to the next day; my hand injury has taken the form of slicing away significant parts of my four fingers - the index finger and pinky were pared down to the knuckle, the other fingers had more remaining but still pretty bad. The injuries had healed (no blood) and I was back talking to Dan and his wife Nancy about it (had they noticed this yesterday? Had I bled in their house? Did they find the remnants of my fingers?). I remember telling them not to worry about a lawsuit; I was not that type of person and besides it had happened in the street, not in their house.
And I remember having a deep sadness because the injury meant I would never play the guitar or bass again, and that it would impact my ability to teach and practice yoga.
At that moment, I woke up. The dream was so vivid and real that I immediately went to my left hand, found it to be intact, and was filled with a deep joy and happiness.
The whole thing reminded me of a zen story or parable I have heard, paraphrased here.
A man's child dies, yet he is strangely calm and unmoved by this.A lesson dream perhaps. To be thankful for something as small as fingers. And that this body, this life, is on loan, and to enjoy it and use it wisely while it is in my care....
When asked about it, he says "Last night, I dreamed I had four fine children, loving each of them as much as if they were my only child. When I awoke this morning, I realized it was a dream, and my dream children were gone."
"Do I mourn for this one child, or for these four children?"
March 12, 2013
High School Dream
One of my recurring dreams has been of high school. Invariably, I am walking the halls, struggling with my locker (unable to find it, forgetting the combination), struggling to remember the schedule (one of those "different class times every weekday kind of things"). A recurring element is that I have been skipping religion class (Catholic school) all year.
Last night's version was different. I seemed to be heading into Junior year, and I had transitioned over the summer. Found my locker, I had a green lock on it (a bleed over from my waking life) and I was putting a sticker on the front with my present name. I considered putting the trans symbol on the sticker, but thought better of it. The locker was unusual, larger size and configuration, and I had a pile of yoga blocks stashed in the bottom. The previous owner had been well organized and left me a small organized case with pens, binder clips, paper clips, etc.
Other parts of the dream included walking the halls, a little bit of flying (or rather, the ability to move by taking long, floating leaps that took me to the ceiling of the gym and auditorium). I recall meeting a few individuals, not sure if from high school or not, we were older and they had some struggles. And I remember it was the start of the year and I vowed to never miss a religion class.
Not sure what it all means, but it felt positive, as if I were making some changes, getting a chance to do things over again, correcting some past mistakes.
Last night's version was different. I seemed to be heading into Junior year, and I had transitioned over the summer. Found my locker, I had a green lock on it (a bleed over from my waking life) and I was putting a sticker on the front with my present name. I considered putting the trans symbol on the sticker, but thought better of it. The locker was unusual, larger size and configuration, and I had a pile of yoga blocks stashed in the bottom. The previous owner had been well organized and left me a small organized case with pens, binder clips, paper clips, etc.
Other parts of the dream included walking the halls, a little bit of flying (or rather, the ability to move by taking long, floating leaps that took me to the ceiling of the gym and auditorium). I recall meeting a few individuals, not sure if from high school or not, we were older and they had some struggles. And I remember it was the start of the year and I vowed to never miss a religion class.
Not sure what it all means, but it felt positive, as if I were making some changes, getting a chance to do things over again, correcting some past mistakes.
February 18, 2013
Last Night's Dream
A long and fairly exhausting weekend left me with a vivid dream last night. In the dream, I was in a new apartment in a big city (presumably NYC). It was a 1 bedroom, but was spacious - with a rather large and ornately furnished living room, a semi hidden dining area and big kitchen, there was a big bathtub (more of a small pool) in the living room.
Seemed like an artist lived there previously, I kept finding small pieces, postcards, signs in the place. I recall thinking that it was amazing that it was so affordable ($700) for just Elo and I, that I ought to have friends come stay over, that Elo would have to get used to going out in the city.
And the odd part, when I found the kitchen, there was a meal all cooked - as if the previous tenants had left in a rush.
One of those dreams that will sit with me all day....
Seemed like an artist lived there previously, I kept finding small pieces, postcards, signs in the place. I recall thinking that it was amazing that it was so affordable ($700) for just Elo and I, that I ought to have friends come stay over, that Elo would have to get used to going out in the city.
And the odd part, when I found the kitchen, there was a meal all cooked - as if the previous tenants had left in a rush.
One of those dreams that will sit with me all day....
May 24, 2012
Weird Dream
I rarely dream vividly and memorably, but I did last night (perhaps driven by some rather yummy fish tacos from the nearby No Name Tortilla Grill), and perhaps advised by the rather fluid layout of the "Best Exotic Marigold Hotel" (saw the movie yesterday)
In my dream, I was living in a second floor apartment in a big rambling house that was not designed as separate apartments. The kitchen (for instance) was huge and had multiple stoves. And there was a screen door separating my place from a common space adjacent to a group home for adults with some sort of disability (did not seem to be developmental, perhaps mental health issues).
I arrive back home to find my kitchen occupied by a handful of these group home folks, cooking my food in my kitchen. I remember one guy was frying up 6-8 eggs, someone else was making spaghetti. I kicked them all out, and closed / latched the screen door, and went down to talk to the group home staff about it. Later on, I find the screen has been cut / pushed in, the latches unlocked, they had been back in. One guy in particular seemed rather gleeful and obsessed with the project of invading my space. I think somewhere along the line I ended up tussling with him trying to get him to leave.
It was the kind of dream that stuck around; I woke during the night, turned on the radio for a bit, and when I dozed back asleep, the dream continued.
In my dream, I was living in a second floor apartment in a big rambling house that was not designed as separate apartments. The kitchen (for instance) was huge and had multiple stoves. And there was a screen door separating my place from a common space adjacent to a group home for adults with some sort of disability (did not seem to be developmental, perhaps mental health issues).
I arrive back home to find my kitchen occupied by a handful of these group home folks, cooking my food in my kitchen. I remember one guy was frying up 6-8 eggs, someone else was making spaghetti. I kicked them all out, and closed / latched the screen door, and went down to talk to the group home staff about it. Later on, I find the screen has been cut / pushed in, the latches unlocked, they had been back in. One guy in particular seemed rather gleeful and obsessed with the project of invading my space. I think somewhere along the line I ended up tussling with him trying to get him to leave.
It was the kind of dream that stuck around; I woke during the night, turned on the radio for a bit, and when I dozed back asleep, the dream continued.
September 30, 2011
Dog Dreams
I've been dreaming a lot recently. Unusual; I usually sleep like a rock, and if I dream, I'm not conscious of them. But lately, my subconscious seems to be trying to push to the surface.
Night before last, I was on a hospital gurney, heading into some sort of procedure (like an MRI or angiogram or something). Notable was the fact that my dog, Elo, was curled up under my arm on the gurney, and was going into the procedure room. Also that night, I dreamed I was riding my bike, and Elo was sitting on the bike rack at the back of the bike (completely unreal) - and I recall riding up and over a small hump / curb, getting some air, and checking to see if Elo was still seated securely. I woke up distinctly unsettled.
Last night, I dreamed I was at my old house in Waterbury, but Elo was with me. At one point, my neighbor Joyce (from my Hartford home) was trying to take Elo for a walk (I stopped her, afraid Elo would get loose) and as I was taking Elo into the house, she came up with a small thumb tack or dart - was somebody shooting at my dog? I noticed the woman (whose name was Mrs. Martinez, completely fictional) across the street quickly closing her blind. Turns out she had been shooting darts at Elo, because of his barking. She came over and gave me a little baggie with the darts in them (to show me they were harmless, I guess) and I got angry at her; called 9-1-1 to get the police to come out, but the phone was never answered.
Later, same dream, same locale, Elo's back leg fell off. Right below the bony "heel" on his leg; he was limping but not in a lot of pain. I called up a 24 Hour emergency vet - and while I was talking to the vet, I noticed he had lost the other back leg, but that he seemed to be growing new paws.
Finally, same dream, a guy shows up from a mortgage company - thought he was looking for me, but he was looking for the folks next door (when I lived in Waterbury, an old guy named Carl and his nephew). He and some colleagues were hanging around outside, and other colleagues showed up and they had a pie fight with large flat trays of what looked like meringue or shaving cream.
I've been feeling kind of crappy of late; perhaps the dreams are part of my body's healing or fighting off some infection. But....weird.
Night before last, I was on a hospital gurney, heading into some sort of procedure (like an MRI or angiogram or something). Notable was the fact that my dog, Elo, was curled up under my arm on the gurney, and was going into the procedure room. Also that night, I dreamed I was riding my bike, and Elo was sitting on the bike rack at the back of the bike (completely unreal) - and I recall riding up and over a small hump / curb, getting some air, and checking to see if Elo was still seated securely. I woke up distinctly unsettled.
Last night, I dreamed I was at my old house in Waterbury, but Elo was with me. At one point, my neighbor Joyce (from my Hartford home) was trying to take Elo for a walk (I stopped her, afraid Elo would get loose) and as I was taking Elo into the house, she came up with a small thumb tack or dart - was somebody shooting at my dog? I noticed the woman (whose name was Mrs. Martinez, completely fictional) across the street quickly closing her blind. Turns out she had been shooting darts at Elo, because of his barking. She came over and gave me a little baggie with the darts in them (to show me they were harmless, I guess) and I got angry at her; called 9-1-1 to get the police to come out, but the phone was never answered.
Later, same dream, same locale, Elo's back leg fell off. Right below the bony "heel" on his leg; he was limping but not in a lot of pain. I called up a 24 Hour emergency vet - and while I was talking to the vet, I noticed he had lost the other back leg, but that he seemed to be growing new paws.
Finally, same dream, a guy shows up from a mortgage company - thought he was looking for me, but he was looking for the folks next door (when I lived in Waterbury, an old guy named Carl and his nephew). He and some colleagues were hanging around outside, and other colleagues showed up and they had a pie fight with large flat trays of what looked like meringue or shaving cream.
I've been feeling kind of crappy of late; perhaps the dreams are part of my body's healing or fighting off some infection. But....weird.
September 13, 2011
Losing My Religion
Somewhere between savasana and home, I had the realization that I have been having a recurring dream. I dream of being in high school, in the middle of the term or semester. And I have been completely blowing off my religion classes (I went to a catholic high school, we had religion classes) - never showing up, not even on my schedule.
Of course, I have been without a formal religious belief for many years. In fact, if anything, I have developed a strong anti-religion bias what with the antics of the christian right and radical islam. It's gotten to the point where I avoid even ecumenical or vaguely religious intersections with other causes and orgs.
I spend a lot of time plugging away at spirituality - yoga, meditation, enlightenment intensives, retreats. I have a strong belief in something larger - the divine, a cosmic consciousness, a soul in the machine. But religion - no thanks.
Pondering what that dream might mean.....
Of course, I have been without a formal religious belief for many years. In fact, if anything, I have developed a strong anti-religion bias what with the antics of the christian right and radical islam. It's gotten to the point where I avoid even ecumenical or vaguely religious intersections with other causes and orgs.
I spend a lot of time plugging away at spirituality - yoga, meditation, enlightenment intensives, retreats. I have a strong belief in something larger - the divine, a cosmic consciousness, a soul in the machine. But religion - no thanks.
Pondering what that dream might mean.....
December 25, 2009
Worst Yoga Class Ever - Dream Edition
Xmas morning here. Up at my mom's in MA, and I awoke from a very vivid and remembered dream. Need to get it down and out of my system.
In the dream, I am subbing a yoga class for my teacher and mentor Barb, who owns my studio. The class is up in Boston (for some reason, she does not teach in Boston in real life) at a place I've never been to. And the class is oddly spread across 3 very large spaces on two levels (almost like a high loft, so its all open) - so to teach the class, I am constantly walking back and forth between studios as well as up and down stairs.
I have no headset or sound system so I am trying to be heard across all the spaces (not very successfully). Each studio has it's own sound system / stereo, and students have turned these on to a different CD in each space. So I am fighting that as well. And finally, the students in each space are set up in a large circle (not mat to mat as in a normal class).
So I teach the class(es), and it's going really poorly - I teach one room and as I walk to the next room they are doing something different. For some reason, something I am saying (not exactly sure what) is interpreted by the students to mean some completely unexpected (and unknown to me) dance that they all seem to know and do in sync, and I cannot figure out what posture or sanskrit word is triggering this. At one point, the students are complaining about the heat (Barb historically works with a very hot room), and we stop the class and get everyone who wants it cooler to go to the lower level (where it's cooler) and the rest to stay on the upper level; I also am running around closing windows (it's an old building, lot of those horizontal tilt out windows) which the students have opened when I am not in eyeshot.
Well, I look up and it's close to 8 pm (class started at 6) and I've barely gotten through a sun salutation, never got to savasana, so the class just ends. I call the students over and they are all surrounding me and I announce that they've just experienced "the worst yoga class I've ever taught, in fact the worst yoga class I've every witnessed" and they all break out into applause (presumably for me being honest and facing it). I kind of go through the circumstances with them (about the multi levels, the sound systems, the lack of a PA, etc.) but pretty much cop to being unprepared and unable to hold the space. I tell them they've earned karma points (payable by me) for sticking it out. A few of them stick around to brainstorm ways to make things better (like having a headset that plays on all the stereo's, and having one CD playing in all the studios).
As the dream ends, I am walking through the streets of Boston, calling Barb up on my cell phone to tell her how badly I messed up and asking advice regarding if / how I should talk to the owners of the studio in Boston.
So what does it mean?
I'm in the middle of a yoga teaching lull - I've been teaching 3 classes down at the studio but one has been cancelled (only getting a few students), and my Friday noon class is gone for 12/25 and 1/1. Meanwhile my Bristol Adult Ed class is off until the 2nd week in Jan. So I am down to one class a week for a few weeks. Am I recognizing some teaching burnout? Am I questioning my commitment to teaching? Or perhaps my qualifications to teach? Am I getting sloppy or unprepared for classes?
I am, at the same time, struggling to put together all the paperwork for my yoga teacher certification - due by year end. It's not really all that hard - a bunch of book reports (all but one already written) and class critiques (already completed) and some photocopying of class sequences and hunting down of some class sign-ins / rosters from my free teaching. Get it all assembled into a binder or booklet. Not exactly an insurmountable project, yet I have been procrastinating about it.
And I am also looking at a new endeavour - playing bass with an up til now folk/rock duo. Am I concerned about spreading myself too thin?
Lots to chew on. Just wanted to get it all down before I dropped back into sleep and forgot it all!
In the dream, I am subbing a yoga class for my teacher and mentor Barb, who owns my studio. The class is up in Boston (for some reason, she does not teach in Boston in real life) at a place I've never been to. And the class is oddly spread across 3 very large spaces on two levels (almost like a high loft, so its all open) - so to teach the class, I am constantly walking back and forth between studios as well as up and down stairs.
I have no headset or sound system so I am trying to be heard across all the spaces (not very successfully). Each studio has it's own sound system / stereo, and students have turned these on to a different CD in each space. So I am fighting that as well. And finally, the students in each space are set up in a large circle (not mat to mat as in a normal class).
So I teach the class(es), and it's going really poorly - I teach one room and as I walk to the next room they are doing something different. For some reason, something I am saying (not exactly sure what) is interpreted by the students to mean some completely unexpected (and unknown to me) dance that they all seem to know and do in sync, and I cannot figure out what posture or sanskrit word is triggering this. At one point, the students are complaining about the heat (Barb historically works with a very hot room), and we stop the class and get everyone who wants it cooler to go to the lower level (where it's cooler) and the rest to stay on the upper level; I also am running around closing windows (it's an old building, lot of those horizontal tilt out windows) which the students have opened when I am not in eyeshot.
Well, I look up and it's close to 8 pm (class started at 6) and I've barely gotten through a sun salutation, never got to savasana, so the class just ends. I call the students over and they are all surrounding me and I announce that they've just experienced "the worst yoga class I've ever taught, in fact the worst yoga class I've every witnessed" and they all break out into applause (presumably for me being honest and facing it). I kind of go through the circumstances with them (about the multi levels, the sound systems, the lack of a PA, etc.) but pretty much cop to being unprepared and unable to hold the space. I tell them they've earned karma points (payable by me) for sticking it out. A few of them stick around to brainstorm ways to make things better (like having a headset that plays on all the stereo's, and having one CD playing in all the studios).
As the dream ends, I am walking through the streets of Boston, calling Barb up on my cell phone to tell her how badly I messed up and asking advice regarding if / how I should talk to the owners of the studio in Boston.
So what does it mean?
I'm in the middle of a yoga teaching lull - I've been teaching 3 classes down at the studio but one has been cancelled (only getting a few students), and my Friday noon class is gone for 12/25 and 1/1. Meanwhile my Bristol Adult Ed class is off until the 2nd week in Jan. So I am down to one class a week for a few weeks. Am I recognizing some teaching burnout? Am I questioning my commitment to teaching? Or perhaps my qualifications to teach? Am I getting sloppy or unprepared for classes?
I am, at the same time, struggling to put together all the paperwork for my yoga teacher certification - due by year end. It's not really all that hard - a bunch of book reports (all but one already written) and class critiques (already completed) and some photocopying of class sequences and hunting down of some class sign-ins / rosters from my free teaching. Get it all assembled into a binder or booklet. Not exactly an insurmountable project, yet I have been procrastinating about it.
And I am also looking at a new endeavour - playing bass with an up til now folk/rock duo. Am I concerned about spreading myself too thin?
Lots to chew on. Just wanted to get it all down before I dropped back into sleep and forgot it all!
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