“All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream”…Poe

Below are dreams taken from my dream journal. They can be found, along with others, at the following page on my website:


I was in a restaurant full of white-haired women and I was one of them! I had on a pink sweater and white slacks, my makeup and jewelry and my hair (white) was well done. I got up from my table, my coffee cup in hand and headed over to a table where two ladies were seated, deep in conversation.

They stopped talking and looked up at me expectantly.

I said, “Come here, dear.”

And a little girl about three years old came out from beneath the table where she had been playing with the mini-blind cords.

The woman said, “Oh, how cute! Your granddaughter?”

I replied, “No, that’s my daughter. I’m her mother.”

They looked quite shocked and one of them said, “Oh my, women our age don’t have babies, dear!”

I only remember snatches of this dream:

It’s a rodeo. I seem to be observing it while hovering above it. This is an unusual view for me.

A young woman is “demonstrating” the abilities of a “rescue horse”. She’s lying on the ground and the horse rolls over her, stopping just before it reaches her face.

It then gets up, walks around to the front of the woman. The woman reaches up, grabbing the horse’s tail in her hand. It walks out of the arena, dragging her gently along behind it.

In this dream, I actually don’t see any of the characters. There is an unusual light, dark, hazy, with a “glow” at the same time.

The land looks barren—all dirt, almost like desert or wasteland, not even a blade of grass. There is a high, flat ridge with a gorge behind it. Then there is another gorge and then another high flat ridge beyond it, where it dips down again. The landscape is surreal, almost computer generated.

I don’t know how I know, but there are two opposing armies camped here. One at the base of one ridge and another at the base of the other ridge.

There is a prisoner in the first camp. I don’t “see” this character either. Sometimes I sense him; sometimes I hear what he is thinking, and sometimes I think it might be myself!

This prisoner is going to escape from the camp he’s in, quietly, while everyone is sleeping, and work his way to the top of the first ridge—down into the gorge—to the top of the second ridge, and down again where his own people are camped.

All I ever see in this dream is the barren landscape.

We had ordered food from a fast food place and are walking through the kitchen to leave. It’s filthy, more like the kitchen in some medieval castle, except there are stainless steel counters throughout.

There are Cats everywhere—up on the counter tops, eating food lying about—yuk!

I say, “I can’t believe we got food here!”

There is one person back there…a tiny, very old woman with wild unkempt black and gray hair. She’s wearing a long lavender dress and house slippers on her feet. She’s slightly bent over and she’s talking intently to a large orange and white cat who is eating the remains of a hamburger on top of a table.

Some kind of animal ate a snake—a reptilian animal of some kind, I think. My grandmother (who is deceased in real life) was trying to “squeeze” the snake out of the other animal.

At one point the back end of the snake shot out of the animal’s mouth, surprising both of us! My grandmother said, “Oh, that’s too much snake for me!” But she continues to work to get the rest of the snake out.

Once it’s out, the little snake seems very tired and spent and limp. We put it in a small cage with a towel to lie on. I have to go somewhere and I’m very worried about leaving it alone. We decide to set the cage in a darkened hallway where it will be cool.

I’m working in the basement of my grandmother’s house, dusting, I think. I am somehow aware that there is something evil down there with me. This evil thing is going to do harm to a woman in the house unless I can figure out how to get rid of it before midnight.

As I’m looking through a Craft book, trying to find a way to banish this evil thing, the lights go out and the room is black.

I hear a rustling on the bed in the room. Something is there and I feel it’s the evil thing. Although I am afraid; I don’t run away. I make my way over to the bed, book still in hand, and jiggle the light until it comes on.

I find myself sitting on the bed with a huge gray and tan cat.

I am afraid that this cat is the really a demon, not a cat at all. It works its way around to the foot of the bed and starts to sharpen its claws.

As I’m looking at the cat, I see movement out of the corner of my eye– a leopard stealthily starting up the basement steps.

I think to myself—“Oh, it’s the leopard that is the demon and not the cat!”

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