Tag Archives: dreams

Funny and AWESOME Dreams

Since I did a post a few weeks ago about a few horrible nightmares I’ve had, I thought it only right to balance it with the following post about some of the funniest or most wonderful dreams I’ve had.

Indeed, my brain does bless me with some vivid happier or funnier dreams on occasion, which are (thankfully) just as memorable (and just as emotional) as some of my nightmares have been. For example:

Suddenly, I’m a Judo Master

One night very recently, I dreamed that I was out on the town one evening with my boyfriend’s mother and a good friend of mine from high school, who had her new baby son with her. As we were walking back to our cars from the restaurant we had just left, three guys jumped out from an alleyway and tried to mug us.

We were all ready to give them all the money we had, until one of the muggers swiped at my friend’s son, trying to tear him from her arms. Then all heck broke loose, and the three of us started kicking butt. My boyfriend’s mom was swinging this giant purple pocketbook around hitting the guys upside their heads, and my friend was protecting her son in one arm and punching each of them in the gut super-fast with the other arm. And I was throwing the muggers around, knocking ’em into each other and into walls and stuff (kinda judo-ish, but not really).

After a few minutes of us whooping up on them, the guys ran off without our money, cussing and limping. The three of us high-fived, and I woke up. XD

…And Apparently I’m a Dance Teacher, Too

A few years ago I had a dream about being abducted by aliens. It was the whole typical setup–weird noise outside my house, I go out to see what it is, and I get yanked up into this very very bright light. But when I arrived in the spaceship, the aliens (looking just like the ones in the movies, little skinny greenish-white beings with big black eyes) didn’t know what to do with me. They just stood around and tried to talk to me, but I couldn’t understand them.

I’m not sure how or why this happened, but I started teaching them how to do the Funky Chicken. (They were hopeless students, by the way, all flailing arms and legs and no rhythm. Worse than Elaine off Seinfeld. LOL) And after we had finally successfully danced for a while, they let me go, and I woke up.

…Yeah, I have NO idea. But it did give me a good laugh upon waking! 😛

Getting Interviewed for Books I Ain’t Written Yet

A few months back, I dreamed I was on a talk show that seemed like a combination of Tavis Smiley, Charlie Rose, and North Carolina Bookwatch–it was definitely a public-television talk show, but I didn’t recognize the well-dressed older man that was the host, nor did I recognize the name of the show (which I promptly forgot after I woke up).

The host asked me about my novel SERIES (mind, my first novel isn’t even complete yet as of right now), and he asked me to answer critics’ comments about some of the harder truths I had depicted in my novels. I spoke from a literary-critic point of view myself, and talked about trying to capture some of what had gone on in real-world historical events within my fictional world.

After I had finished answering the questions, the host said he was really pleased with how I was willing to dissect my own books, and that he appreciated writers who took time to research to make a good book. Afterward, I went to a random book-signing outside the studio, and there were TONS of fans there–some were even dressed up like my main character! :O I woke up right in the middle of the book-signing, and for a few minutes I was thinking I had to get to another interview. LOL

The Random Rock Concert In the Middle of a Choral Concert

I dreamed a few nights ago about singing with my local Choral Society group. In the middle of the applause from the formal, sacred music we had just finished singing, our fairly straightlaced choral director turned around where he stood at the podium, as if to acknowledge the audience. But instead, he suddenly broke into the chorus of “Come On Feel The Noize” by Quiet Riot, headbanging and fist-pumping like the best 80’s hair band singer.

We, the choir, stood there kinda shocked for a few seconds, and then we randomly joined in singing with him. The audience went absolutely NUTS, jumping out of their seats, screaming and cheering, and forming a mosh pit below the sedately decorated stage. To add to the mood, somebody in the sound and light booth turned down the stage lights and turned on these lights that threw sparkling multicolored dashes of light all around the walls. And once we got done singing it once, we started it again–all a cappella, no instruments or anything. Random party in my head! (and yes, I did wake up headbanging along to it. XD)

And Finally: My Son (Who Isn’t Even Thought Of Yet) Walks to Daddy

(This one made me cry happy tears upon waking.)

I dream I am standing at a living room window, watching a few cars drive into the driveway, and I feel a little tug at my shirt hem. “Mommy, they here yet? They here yet?” says a little voice.

I lean down to this little boy–he’s about two–and say, “Yeah, they just came in. Want to go open the door for them?”

“Naaah,” he says, hugging my leg. He is suddenly very, very shy. I go over and open the front door, and several close friends come in, all excited to meet this little boy, who I now realize (within the dream) is my son. Even my boyfriend’s older brother comes to see him, and they all gather in the living room, wanting my son to show them how he’s learned to walk. But he won’t walk in front of them–he’s shy and a little nervous.

This whole time, I’m seeing how much he resembles my boyfriend–same dark, glossy hair, same facial structure, and same skinny little arms and legs. He’s so fragile-looking that I’m suddenly afraid to let him walk on his own, for fear he’ll fall and hurt himself. And while I’m pondering all this, our friends are encouraging him to walk over to them, and he keeps shaking his head…until he looks toward the kitchen doorway. His eyes light up, and he says, definitively, “DADA!”

Then, with very deliberate, slow steps, my son walks straight towards the kitchen doorway, straight toward my boyfriend, and hugs his leg as if he’ll never let his daddy go. My boyfriend sweeps him up into his arms, a loving smile lighting his face, and the likeness between father and son is uncanny–tears fill my eyes. Then, my little boy looks back toward the roomful of people (including me) and grins this really big, cheesy grin; it’s the first smile he’s given that reminds me of myself, and the dream ends there.

The Role of Good Dreams

Each of these dreams left me pumped, in a good mood, and ready to face the day, much more so than my nightmares. My nightmares just propelled me out of bed; my awesome dreams left me feeling so much more positive about my life. I think that’s one reason we have dreams like these–keep us happy and wanting to wake up and live again. At least, that’s what these five dreams (as well as all the other great ones I’ve had over the years) have done for me.

Have You Ever Had Dreams Like These?

Just wondering if these dreams of mine remind you of any you’ve had. Leave me a comment and tell me! 🙂

A “Tug” on My Brain: Intuition

Countless times I’ve experienced it, especially driving somewhere. For instance, I’ll be headed to town, and feel a “tug” to go a different route to town than usual (there are two basic ways to get to the closest town from my house). It could happen with any route, at any time. There appears to be no rhyme or reason to it–except, of course, that the times it happens corresponds exactly with accidents or other traffic issues happening on the road I didn’t take.

The first couple of times this happened, that I followed the “tug” and later found out about something awful I avoided, I brushed it off. Now that it’s happened more than 20 times in the last four years, I’ve started to wonder what exactly this strange intuition is.

“Tugs” In Other Areas of Life

Intuitive “tugs” like this have also popped up in non-driving situations, like thoughts of someone randomly popping to mind.

Example #1: The Old High School Acquaintance

I remember about six months ago, I randomly thought of a girl I hadn’t talked to since high school while I was out on an errand. “I haven’t seen her in a long time,” I thought. “Wonder how she’s doing?”

I later met a few other high school friends while out and about at one of the local big-box stores. As we chatted in line at the checkout, one of the girls said, “Oh, and did you hear about [the girl]’s father?”

“Huh? No, I hadn’t,” I replied. “What happened?”

“He got put in the hospital today, ’round lunchtime,” the other girl said. “Kidney stones or something. She’s really messed up over it.”

The odds of this being a coincidence felt pretty slim, even in our small town. Why would that particular person be in my thoughts, only to have other people mention her to me later, in connection with her father’s illness? It was a little rattling, to say the least. Now, if someone pops to mind, I immediately pray for them–who knows why they’ve popped to mind, but I’m covering my bases.

This random, unpredictable sense has aided me in traffic situations, health diagnoses, and even just occasional meetings with people. Some people just seem to exude their worry, and I find myself unconsciously responding to that, offering encouragement–like the couple I served at the calendar store during the holidays in 2009.

Example #2: The Couple at the Calendar Store

When this couple came in to shop, I could tell they were desperately worried about something, but I didn’t know what. I didn’t say anything to them at all until they came up to check out–they spent most of their time talking quietly and looking around. While I was running their purchases through, I made some offhand comment about my knee acting up (probably said something like “Good ol’ Arthur Itis is after me again” or something silly). They exchanged a look, and said “As young as you are, you have arthritis?”

“Most likely–runs in my family, and I’ve had a lot of injuries to it,” I replied.

Again, the slightly-surprised look. “Well, our son is having a lot of pain and swelling in his left knee, especially when he wakes up in the mornings. We’re actually over here shopping, waiting for him to get done with testing–we thought maybe he’d broken something.”

“Sounds like what I go through on many mornings with my own joints,” I told them. “If it isn’t broken, it might be arthritis. But I take Advil or Aleve, and try to rest the joint if I can, and that helps.” I could FEEL them relaxing, and they smiled for the first time since they came in. They seemed happier now that they had a possible explanation for what was happening to their son. I had not known of any illness beforehand, but it had just seemed like the right thing to say.

Intuition through Dreams: Premonitions

Intuition like this seems to even occur in dreams for me–one very disturbing (but awesome) dream experience happened about two years ago.

Example #3: The T-Intersection Dream

Back in the summer of 2010, I had a vivid dream that I was at a country T-intersection about 12 miles from home, at night. I was getting ready to turn left in the dream, turning to go home from that point. It struck me as odd, though–in the dream, the house across the road had odd, blue-icicle Christmas lights on its side porch, which made no sense because it was July when I had the dream.

In the dream, I looked back and forth, checking to see if it was clear for me to turn. (This particular intersection is very scary at night because the lay of the land makes it hard to see if people are coming, and since it’s near a busy highway, some people come busting through there at 50+ mph.) I began to turn, and all of a sudden, I saw a flash of bright blue-green paint, right before I T-boned the pickup truck that had come out of absolutely nowhere. The jarring impact, and the sound of tearing, screeching metal, stayed with me long after I woke, and I could not go back to sleep.

Near Christmas 2010, I found myself at that same intersection, late at night–it was about 11:30 on a Friday. I looked back and forth, and it looked clear; seemed I could get on my way with no worries. But I happened to glance ahead and see the house across the road–it looked the same as it had been in my dream. Even the blue-icicle lights were in the same position on the house as they had been, only decorating the side porch. I felt that now-familiar “tug” on my brain, and thought, “This looks a bit too much like my dream for my liking.” Paused in thought, I held the car still longer than I had in the dream.

Then a flash of bright blue-green paint whizzed by in my headlights, shocking me out of my dream-memory. A pickup truck, going about 20 miles over the speed limit, had passed me in the night–the exact same color and general make that I had seen in the dream nearly six months before. If I had not waited a few seconds more, reflecting on my dream, I would have T-boned him exactly as I had done in the dream. I have no doubt that this dream saved my life by making me more watchful and aware.

“Tugs” about People: Danger Sense/Character Judgment

I can credit these strange senses with other, more immediate needs of mine as well–sensing when a person may become dangerous, or sensing when someone is in sincere need of help.

Example #4: The Young Blond Guy

For instance, one afternoon I was pumping gas near my college campus; I’d already paid at the pump and was well on my way to a full tank. A young man, blond-haired and wearing a jean jacket and camouflage-patterned pants, pulled up at the pump behind me and got out, ostensibly walking into the gas station’s convenience store. But instead of walking with purpose, he cruised–sauntered–on by my car, oh-so-casually glancing in my backseat and at my purse. Then, he moved on, walking on into the store.

Once he was in the store, the “tug” was unmistakable and strong, the impulse even expressing itself in words: “Get out, get out of here right now. You are in danger.” I quit pumping gas, got my printed receipt, and fairly flew out of the parking lot, taking the long way back to campus in case he followed me. I didn’t like the way he’d looked at me, as if he were sizing me up, and casing my car. But I got back to my dorm safely, and, once inside, quickly forgot about the incident.

It wasn’t until the next day in class that I heard several students talking about the woman who had been robbed at gunpoint at a local gas station. “Where was that?” I asked.

“That station right at the corner of campus, near the tire place,” one of the other guys said. “Happened just after 3:30 yesterday afternoon. They’re still lookin’ for the guy, too–had shoulder-length blond hair, wore a denim jacket and camo pants.”

Though I said nothing, I was shocked. The clock on my car radio had read 3:22 when I had pulled out of the gas station parking lot like a bat out of hell. The young man I had seen, who had given me such a huge case of the creeps, was dressed and looked exactly like the description. It seemed my intuition had been right, and I had been totally correct to follow it.

Example #5: The Scared Mother-to-Be

There was also the case of the young woman who approached me at the local coffee shop one evening, needing a ride back to Charlotte, NC, about an hour’s drive away. Though I did not know her, I had an instant sense, a “tug,” that made me want to help her. She seemed very desperate and afraid.

Though the drive eventually took us nearly all the way back to my hometown, due to a disagreement with the boyfriend she was having me drive her to meet, I was able to talk to her as I drove, and I found out she was four months pregnant, had been excluded from her church’s activities for being a “bad example” to the youth, and was terribly frightened about what was going to happen to her. I suspected abuse on the part of the “boyfriend,” whose very presence set off the “danger alarm” in my head–I was just as glad she did not choose to go with him after all.

By the time I dropped her off at a family member’s house in a nearby city, I had encouraged her to talk to her family members and seek their help. I had also told her that a church which excludes its members is not doing the work of Christ, and that God most definitely had a plan for her and her child. Listening to her talk of her life, weeping, was very difficult, but I did my best to minister to her and keep her safe on the road.

My intuition had been right again; though I had not known her from Eve when I first met her, she was someone who sincerely needed help in two ways, and I was willing to give it because of the “tug” of intuition I had had beforehand.

Where Do These “Tugs” of Intuition Come From?

I honestly cannot give an answer about where this intuition comes from. I’ve watched all manner of “psychics” do their acts, have investigated all the paranormal things I could, and still there’s no real answer to where these senses come from, and why they seem to be so dead-on accurate all the time.

I know for a fact I can’t predict the future consistently, nor can I see dead people around the living or talk to ghosts. But whatever they are, they have only benefited me and others positively. I prefer to think of these “tugs” as handy “warnings,” if you will…wherever they come from, they’ve certainly kept me out of danger and made me more helpful to others.

Horror Movies Ain’t Got Nothing on My Imagination

I like to tell people that I’m not very interested in horror movies or literature, because I’ve got a whole horror-movie production studio in my subconscious.

Most people think it’s a joke…but they aren’t the ones with a horror movie going while they sleep, and no way to turn it off!

A Few Selections from My Gleefully Wicked Subconscious

  • The recurring dream featuring running through a very sticky substance, and KNOWING I have to run from something that’s going to eat me, but I’m stuck to the floor. My chest is heavy, and I can’t breathe at all–there’s a crushing pressure on my body that makes it nearly impossible to take in air. Oh, and did I mention I’m completely blind in this dream? (I hate hate hate this one–I always wake up feeling like I’ve been strangled!)
  • A flashback from teaching middle school, where I get arrested in the lunchroom for allowing the kids to go absolutely batpoo crazy, and the judge pretty much throws the book at me, telling me “a criminal like me should not be allowed back in the classroom for any reason.” His version of “throwing the book at me” is chopping my hands off and cutting out my voice box. (Aw, God, the sheer amount of blood, and knowing it was MINE…nastyyyyyy)
  • The one where I’m the servant of a minister and his kinda-creepy mother, and they ask me to come to the basement of the church after I finish work. There’s a barrel in the corner of the gray-brick room I arrive in, which looks to be filled with water…but when I look in it, there’s rotting flesh in there. A scream rips from me, and I wake up lying on the floor, watching the minister burn one of my leg bones on a makeshift altar. I realize that I’m now just a pile of fleshless bones on the floor–my flesh has been stripped from me and is in the barrel–but I can still feel everything he’s doing to that bone of mine! (I was literally screwed up for HOURS after waking up from this…THING)

And yes, these are all real dreams that I’ve had over the course of my lifetime. (The blind running/difficulty breathing dream has haunted me since childhood, at least since I was three.) My brain seems to be very good at giving me frights while I sleep–it’s like, “Hey, you’re sleeping–let’s make a really scary movie that you can’t wake up out of!” (I have had numerous instances of being unable to wake easily from these dreams, more than the pretty and lovely dreams I’m always jarred out of by the cursed alarm clock.)

Why These Dreams Equal No “Scream” or “Halloween” for Me

Couple this vivid imagination and wicked subconscious with a strong empathy for others’ suffering, plus a little bit of paranoia about experiencing pain, and you get exactly why I can’t sit through a horror movie without needing a barf bag or a sensory deprivation tank afterwards. I don’t like seeing great gouts of blood all over the screen, because I can all too easily visualize it as being mine. Seeing people get stabbed through the eye or having to run screaming from stuff is not my idea of fun…it’s too much like my own nightmares. Why pay for this when I can get it for free (admittedly, in an uncontrollable fashion, but still)?

Unpredictable Nightmares

The frustrating thing about my horror-movie dreams is that I can never predict when they’ll happen, but they’re always nerve-jarring when they do. I could have the most awesome day ever, come home, go to bed, and experience something like one of the three dreams I mentioned above. Or, I could have the most awful day of my life, come home and flop in bed only to have an amazingly wonderful dream.

Is this my subconscious’ way of giving balance to my life? “Oop, you’re too happy, let’s give you something to freak out about!” or “Whoa, you need a pick-me-up–here ya go!” Whatever it is, I guess this is another of my brain’s quirks…

For the Readers

Do you suffer from similar kinds of nightmares as I do, or have you ever had one that stuck with you for a long time after waking? Let me know in the comments!

Well, Have a Nap–Then Fire Your Cylinders!

[/shameless paraphrase of “End of the World” flash video]

Dreams as a Sleeping/More Creative Life

Dreams are powerful experiences, at least in my life. I often kid that I don’t read horror novels or watch scary movies because my nightmares are free (and forced on me). I’m sure Stephen King could have a field day with my subconscious’ meanderings; from horrible rites of death to gruesome imagery, my dreams often leave me terrified to go back to sleep, even at close to 30 years old. I could probably make money off these dreams if I wrote ’em down and made ’em into a book…but I’d probably go mad trying to write it all. LOL!

But as scary as my dreams can be sometimes, they also can be veritable reservoirs of creativity. During the night, your mind isn’t as constrained by what is “right” and “proper,” what is “beautiful” and “pleasing,” and sometimes you end up with powerful imagery and plotlines that are just crazy enough to work.

Creativity & Dreams through History

Many artists of every type have harvested their dreams for inspiration in their works. One of the more famous stories of a dream inspiring creativity is that of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, a poet of the Romantic era (1800s), who woke from an opium-induced dream and wrote one of his poetic masterworks, “Kubla Khan.”

We, too, can use dreams as a jumping-off point for our creativity (even without pharmaceutical help 😉 ); if we can allow ourselves to dream, we can allow ourselves to reach ideas we haven’t even TRIED to play with before.

Harvesting Creativity from Dreams

  1. First, you’ve got to have a really intense dream. Positive or negative, lovely or scary, whatever it is, usually the most intense dreams translate the best into waking creativity.
  2. When you wake, write down everything you remember from the crazy dream you experienced last night–don’t leave out any detail, as silly as it might seem!

    Don’t try to make sense of any of the images, or try to make it into a “sensible” story yet. If it happened in your dream, write it.

  3. Don’t let anything interrupt you, at all, till you’re finished. Coleridge, according to the popular story, answered the door in the middle of his poem, and when he returned to his desk, the dream had fully evaporated. “Kubla Khan” looks like a finished masterpiece, but in reality it was probably only a quarter complete.

    Whether this anecdote is true or not, dreams do tend to fade very quickly after waking. Don’t let this happen to you…capture as much of it as possible!

  4. Later in the day, go back and see what the meat of your dream is. Pick out imagery that really stood out to you; pick out characters that intrigued you, delighted you, even frightened you. Anything about the dream that really hit you, really made you FEEL and EXPERIENCE the dream, is worth thinking more about.
  5. Transform this raw material into any form of creativity you wish–a song, an instrument solo, a short story, a painting, a play, even a dance. Use those characters, that imagery, that feeling, whatever it was, to carry your idea forth in a way you may have never expected to do so.

Most Importantly, Have Fun!

Don’t worry about making this dream-creation “good” or “interesting to others”–primarily, enjoy your creative inspiration as your own, even if you weren’t aware that you were creating it! To embrace your creativity, your ability to MAKE cool stuff up, you first have to accept that you CAN do it…and your dreams give you the perfect license to do it.

Melodies from Dreams

I often dream music, or at least melodies. Many a night I’ve woken up and charged sleepily to the piano keyboard, to bang out a quick melody so I don’t forget it before the morning really comes. (Many a night I’ve also rolled over and gone back to sleep on a melody, thinking “Oh, this is too cool, I won’t forget it!”, only to struggle to recall even the smallest rhythm later that morning. Fail!) Either way it happens, it’s a wonderful way to wake up, with your brain bathing in song!

Once I wake up for the day, especially if the melody is still very fresh, I’ll usually end up putting chords or words with it so that I can more easily remember the melody. If I’m struggling to recall the melody, I’ll muse around at the keyboard instead, playing as much of it as I can remember until something triggers my brain to remember the rest of it. (Occasionally I’ve had the same melody appear twice in dreams, or a snippet of a dream will remind me of the melody–always a blessing!) And once I have the melody, or at least as much as I remember of it, I can then begin to craft more of the piece of music, sometimes weaving in other chord progressions I’ve created while awake, or sometimes pulling in other dreamed melodies as appropriate.

I find that the music I dream of, whether it becomes a fully-fledged piece of music immediately or remains an itty-bitty melody for a few weeks, is often more ethereal and beautiful than stuff I come up with while awake. I like to think my brain explores my dreams while I’m asleep and brings back a shred of those dreamed realms, in snatches of melody that float back with me as I wake. Or maybe that’s just my random imaginings… But wherever they come from, they are delightful inspiration, all too rare these days.

What about you, fellow musicians? Have you ever dreamed of a piece of music, or a melody?