20 Years Later Part 2

 For the first part of this post, please go to: 

I woke up Wednesday morning in shock as most of us did.  Was this a bad dream?  Did this really happen the way that it did?  Are thousands of people missing and dead?  Some of my thoughts were with the people of the wonderful organization that I worked with.  Even though the likelihood of them being in the towers or near the area were slim to none, I hoped that everyone was okay.  So, I decided to call them.  It was quite eerie.  I got the three tones at the beginning of the call where your call cannot be completed as dialed.  But instead of first saying, "Please try your call again later" it said, "Your call cannot be completed due to an emergency in the area."  I would try again several times over on Wednesday, and I got the same message.  It seems like everyone just sat and watched coverage of the search and recovery work.  It seemed like all any of us could do.  It was hard not to look away from it.  The day before, many television stations suspended their coverage due to the national emergency, and it seemed like a lot of it was out of respect.  I went to bed on Tuesday night needing to watch an episode of I Love Lucy because everything was so overwhelming.  But as soon as I got up, I needed to just tune back into the coverage, because there were so many answers that we all needed to know.  Were people being found?  At the time, no.  Frantic loved ones were on any station they could get with pictures of their family members who were missing.  I saw some posters where the people were from Cantor Fitzgerald, and they said they were on the upper floors.  Sadly, we all probably knew that they did not make it because it was above the impact zone.  The whole world stopped.  Sporting events were canceled, schools were revisiting safety issues.  There were many pressing questions: would this happen again?  What would be the targets?  It did not seem safe to gather in large groups when we did not know if there were more attacks planned.  The most surreal part was that air travel came to a complete halt in the United States.  The sky was so quiet.  I never in my life looked up and did not see any contrails.  There was just an eeriness about the whole thing.  Everything that was happening seemed more like the plot of some bad thriller rather than reality.  But it was reality, and I am not sure that anyone was prepared for it.  I tried a few times again on Wednesday and Thursday to get through to my organization, but I got the same message over and over again.

On Friday morning, around 9:30, I tried calling the organization again.  Finally, someone picked up the phone.  It was a newer worker, so I introduced myself and said, "I am so sorry about what happened."  No sooner did that come out of my mouth than I started sobbing.  All the emotions that I felt over those past few days had come to the surface.  The woman was very kind and told me that it was okay, that many others who worked with them called and said the same thing.  She was very comforting.  The woman informed me that each night, a group of the core workers were going to Ground Zero with food, blankets, and water for the first responders.  I felt a sense of peace, because I knew that those very special people would be able to show the first responders love and compassion.  Maybe they would just talk to them, maybe they didn't have to say anything.  But, they would be there meeting someone's need.  After I got off the phone, I watched a national memorial service from Washington, D.C.  I was an evangelical Christian at the time, and Billy Graham was preaching.  He said that where the people were was so much better than earth, we would not want them back.  I suppose at the time that I found solace in what he said, although what a horrible way for people to have to go there.  Even then, I had my doubts and questioned the goodness of "God."  I certainly questioned what happened that day, why so many good and innocent people had to perish.  I never was one to say unequivocally that God was always good and that you could never question.  But that's a whole other story.  I got an email sometime earlier that said a national memorial was going to happen that night at 7 p.m. local time.  People were encouraged to light a candle and stand on their front porch.  So, I did.  I looked up and down my block and several others were as well.  I remember a group of boys in a car going by, cheering and yelling how they loved our candles.  

The next few weeks and months even though painful seemed like some very rich times.  We got to the VERY best of our country, our people, and how much they could rise to the occasion.  I saw so much kindness extended to the victims' families, especially their children.  Athletes were inviting them to be their guests when sports resumed.  I will never forget when NASCAR resumed racing at Dover, Delaware.  Lee Greenwood came and sang God Bless The U.S.A. It was a very special moment.  And then there was the resuming of baseball in New York.  Mike Piazza famously hit a homerun in the Mets first game back and was very emotional.  Everyone needed to feel a sense of normalcy, we needed to be reminded of the good times and simpler things that made our country great.  I saw story after story of citizens reaching out to others, being good to the victims' families, and even strangers who were not affected.  I felt a sense of comfort among all of the sadness knowing that so many people were pulling together.  We really were a unified country.  I remember that even though I was far removed from the loss of a loved one, it was still hard to feel happy and cheerful during the holidays.  It did not feel festive when so many others were suffering.  For my birthday, I was given a beautiful picture of the Twin Towers.  The morning of Christmas, I looked at them and prayed for all of the victims' families.  The holidays passed into winter, and then the spring.  Cleanup of the World Trade Center site was finished ahead of time.  I remember watching the ceremony.  Even now, 20 years later, some victims' remains are being identified for the first time.  

Nobody will EVER forget 9/11 if they were alive that day and old enough to realize what happened.  It was so affecting to me because it affected the city which was my second home.  I often wondered if I had crossed someone on the street, or spoke to them, or maybe been in their presence in some way who lost their life.  Those of us who did not lose a loved one eventually moved on from the grief we felt.  However, I cannot imagine what it is like to have to live the rest of your life having your loved one perish in such a horrible way.  I realize that those people who lost their lives would want for their survivors to be able to live and have a full, rich life because they are not able to anymore.  But I just cannot fathom how that would be possible.  As for the larger questions, I look back at how unified we were and wonder how it all became so lost.  We all have our theories.  But I wish, like many millions of other Americans, that we would get back to that sense of unity.  And I genuinely hope that we do not have another event like that to force it to happen.  In many ways, COVID was that event, and we are not a united country any more.  

My wish is that for those who continue to be affected, both physically and emotionally, that they will be able to at least find peace and physical wellness.  If I could talk to them directly, I would assure them that they are certainly not forgotten, nor their loved ones.  Plenty of us still care, and we will ALWAYS remember.  

20 Years Later Part 1

 New York City was a place that appealed to me as a young child.  Even though I had yet to visit, its mystique in movies, television shows, and the news made it seem like a magical place.  In 9th grade, I finally got to go for our class trip.  The minute we crossed through the Lincoln Tunnel into the city, I could feel the city's energy.  It was nothing like I ever got to experience before.  It felt alive, and so did I.  Our first destination that day was to the World Trade Center.  I didn't know much about it, I was more familiar with the Empire State Building.  But I was told it had great views, and everyone seemed excited.  That included me, until I realized we would have to ride a large express elevator to the 107th floor.  I had an elevator phobia when I was younger, and when we got there, I started to panic.  The lobby of the South Tower was beautiful-very pristine, flags surrounding the courtyard.  I would watch as hurried people got on the elevators to ride to their offices.  It was quite a bustling place.  I decided that I would be fine there just observing the workers rather than taking that big elevator up 100 stories.  When I asked the teacher in charge, he said, "Absolutely not, I am not letting you by yourself in New York City."  Fine.  I asked my best friend to stay down with me, and she agreed.  When I approached him about it again, he bluntly responded, "You're both going."  So, I joined the rest of the group and was zoomed away in the large freight elevator.  It was amazing how quickly it moved. In a little over a minute, we were at the observation deck.  When I got out of the elevator, I was fine.  I walked over to those famous oblong windows and looked down below me.  I could see some of the bridges, and it really didn't seem that far up, all things considered.  My teacher made a point to come over and check on how I was doing.  Happy and smiling, I said I was enjoying myself.  "See?" he said with a knowing smile.  I will always be grateful to him for pushing me beyond what I thought were my limits.  I had a chance to be in that beautiful tower on a nice early June morning.  I would go back to NYC the following year for another trip to a Broadway show.  And when I graduated from high school, my real mission to the city began.  One week after I graduated, I took a trip with my church to an organization which worked with the homeless throughout the city.  They were aligned with different charitable organizations. We worked in soup kitchens in the day, both inside and outside, and at night we would go out to Manhattan and pass out food, water, and blankets to those who were living on the streets.  It may have been one of the most significant weeks of my life.  Not only did I have the chance to see beyond my middle class upbringing, I got to truly understand things like suffering, poverty, untreated mental health issues, addictions, and the ineffectiveness of our country to properly deal with those who were falling through the cracks.  I would go back many times after that until I started to experience some health problems which made it difficult for me to go.  I fell even more in love with the city and its people.  It was my home away from home.  Part of me was always there.  

On the night of September 10, I was having a conversation with a good friend of mine about anxiety and phobias. I told her that sometimes it didn't make sense to me because I was struggling with panic attacks at the time and that I had been to the top of the World Trade Center.  The next morning, I woke up right around the time the first plane had hit the North Tower.  I knew nothing about it and turned on the show I would always watch to start my day-Little House on the Prairie.  The phone began ringing and ringing, and I got a call from a relative in the medical profession saying what happened. The medical communities up and down the East Coast were already on alert because they were expecting a mass casualty event which might cause non-emergency patients to be fanned out to other hospitals along I-95.  I turned on NBC and saw both towers on fire. I just thought there were two unrelated fires.  Then, I heard the commentary that two planes had hit the towers and that it was a terrorist attack. Everything after that started to unfold part like the plot of a movie and equally as horrific. It seemed like chaos-rumors of planes going missing, our nation's capitol in an evacuation crisis, people on the streets of NYC staring in horror.  It was confirmed that another plane hit the Pentagon and yet another one was still missing.  It also seemed like we were moving into mass hysteria.  Locally, there were rumors of low-flying planes passing over parts of our county.  Nationally, there was speculation on what was happening and the newsmakers thought that this could be a coordinated attack that was going to continue well into the day.  I got a call from a friend of mine who was living in Houston at the time.  Their emergency service was headed to NASA.  After that, I called my friend who I spoke to the night before and told her what was happening.  She had no idea as she was working in a small church office, and all she had there was a small radio.  But she listened along until the wise reverend, who was now in his senior years and had seen a lot of life, came into the office.  He was burdened by what he had seen, and she got to have a meaningful conversation with him about what was happening.  I told her how fortunate she was to have someone that wise to somehow make sense of the thing that made no sense whatsoever.  I was still talking to family members at their respective offices, some who did not have access to a television.  All the while, I was watching as the Pentagon was on fire, the massive black smoke, ambulances and emergency personnel carrying people away.  The coverage would shift back to New York City, where everyone was racing to control the chaos.  Early on, you saw a lot of firefighters driving past the reporters.  There was a lot of information going around, loads of speculation, but the towers were still standing.  The discussion was how to safely evacuate the people.  

And then it happened.  Part of the South Tower toppled to the side and the rest of the tower collapsed.  I was stunned.  People were running, journalists were ducking the cloud of dust overtaking them, and people were re-emerging covered in layers of heavy dust, choking, injured, and completely worn out.  I saw people literally running for their lives.  It almost did not seem real.  As we were trying to process what had just happened, the news came that a plane crashed in suburban Pittsburgh.  I was very concerned because an entire part of my family lived in suburban Pittsburgh.  Were they safe?  By 10:05 a.m., everything seemed like a nightmare, and there was no sign of it stopping.  Thankfully, all flights were ordered grounded and none were allowed into the United States.  But we still didn't know a lot.  It was slowly starting to sink in that there was going to be massive loss of life, that good, innocent people were killed in barbaric fashion.  It was still hard to process.  I felt like I was in a Twilight Zone episode, it almost didn't seem real.  Not in our country.  As journalists were trying to merely keep up with the news, there was just a casual observation that based on what just happened, the North Tower might be in jeopardy of falling down as well.  The camera I was watching was focused on the North Tower from a few blocks away.  I thought that I was seeing the transmission pole at the top of the building starting to move, and then it stopped.  All of a sudden, I saw it shift and start to move down as the North Tower imploded.  I almost could not believe it.  I yelled out, "Oh my god, that one collapsed too!"  The situation went from chaos to grim.  It seemed to get very quiet, and I will never forget the words of a stunned Tom Brokaw.  "The World Trade Center is...no more."  He talked about how there would be a massive loss of life and wondered how it could be managed.  It was downright chilling.  As journalists continued to cover the situation as best as they could, you could hear these high-pitched whistles going off.  I wasn't sure what they were.  It was later explained that they were whistles issued to members of the FDNY.  The part was that was so haunting is that you could hear them as reporters navigated through the debris.  The people they were assigned to were not there.  

As the afternoon moved along, those of us outside of the affected areas sat in stunned silence.  We were angry, on the verge of tears, already ready to retaliate and bring to justice whoever did this.  Several groups claimed responsibility, but it was believed to the work of Osama bin Laden.  Frantic family members began asking if anyone had seen their relatives.  A massive evacuation of lower Manhattan was underway while brave members of the FDNY began to search among the rubble for any survivors.  Initially, it was believed there would be a slew of survivors; they were few and far between.  One hour turned into the next.  By evening, we were starting to learn about some of the people who lost their lives.  I was immediately drawn to the story of Father Mychal Judge, the FDNY chaplain who lost his life as he prayed for people inside the South Tower.  Then I learned that David Angell and his wife were aboard Flight 11.  David Angell was a talented writer from many hit shows and was currently working on my favorite sitcom Frasier.  I couldn't believe it.  The man responsible for helping us laugh a little bit each week and forget our troubles had such a violent death.  The widow of Anthony Perkins, Berry Berenson was also on Flight 11, as was former NHL player Ace Bailey.  Family members with pictures of their loved ones clamored for time, asking the public to call if they had any information on their whereabouts.  A wall was gathering with their photos as well.  I spoke a bit to my friend who I told just the night before about the World Trade Center.  She said that it spooked her that day and wondered if I had some kind of premonition or something.  I said no, and I desperately wished that it was the only conversation I would have about it.  

I went outside as I always did around 11 p.m.  September evenings are the perfect time to look at the sky-the nights are getting cooler, and that whole day was referred to in aviation as a "severe clear."  The night was just as clear as the day.  There was a small sliver of the moon, it was in a crescent phase.  I just sat and stared at it.  Our whole world had fallen apart.  Yet the moon was still there-it was a constant.  The whole world could be falling apart, yet we would always see the same moon and stars.  I suppose I looked to the sky for answers, but there were none.  It is ironic in that for anyone like myself who sat out that night, the sky was the thing that morning which played such a big role in the tragedy.  Innocent people traveling to see loved ones, going on class trips, traveling for business, people who just thought they would have a routine flight and would be picked up at the airport by their loved one, met their fate in such a cruel and agonizing way on board those planes.  I went back in and would try and fall asleep but like many, I couldn't.  

The second half of this reflection will continue in part 2.  

75 Years of Freddie Mercury

 Zanzibar in the 1940s-what do you think of?  If you are like me, you have a hard time.  At the time, it was a colony of Great Britain.  Its residents included Bomi and Jer Bulsara, Parsi transplants from India who relocated there for Bomi's work with the British Colonial Office.  On September 5, 1946, Jer gave birth to a son Farrokh. Farrokh spent a few years in Zanzibar before being sent to India to attend school.  Young Farrokh learned music at an early age, learning to play piano and even starting a band with his classmates at the age of twelve.  The Bulsaras would flee to England in 1964 as a result of an uprising in Zanzibar in which ethnic Indians were killed.  Farrokh enrolled at and graduated from art school in 1969.  He worked odd jobs such as being a baggage handler at Heathrow International Airport while also joining local bands.  One year after graduation he teamed up with Roger Taylor and Brian May in a group called Smile.  The following year, John Deacon joined the band, which changed its name to Queen.  Farrokh also changed his last name to Mercury.  The introverted, somewhat shy young man came alive onstage, with performances that some might call bombastic, or theatrical, or outrageous.  Farrokh, who long gave up his birth name for Freddie, pushed his bandmates to embrace the daring.  The band had modest success in its early days, but they were fortunate in that they were well-regarded critically and were generously given use of a studio to record their music.

In 1975, the band who enjoyed somewhat modest success burst onto the scene with a song that their own record company soured on.  Bohemian Rhapsody was based on music that Freddie created while still in college.  Bandmate Brian May was a fan of the concept and gave the go-ahead for the group to proceed.  It was a song which took three weeks to record, relying on overdubs of the individual members singing.  Despite the criticism from their own record label, Queen was confident in their product and began playing it on radio stations.  A star was born in the band, and particularly in Freddie Mercury.  He quickly became known for his showmanship-energetic performances, elaborate costuming, and a way to connect with his audience that few artists at that time had.  The quiet, laid back man off the stage became a larger than life performer.  Freddie was partnered with longtime girlfriend Mary Austin, but he purportedly always questioned his sexuality.  Eventually, Freddie decided to part with Mary as a romantic partner, though he still considered her his "wife" in later years.  When Freddie decided to explore his sexuality, he was reported to have attended many parties, clubs, etc. and also purportedly did a lot of drugs. AIDS was discovered in 1981 and was found to be spreading in the gay community. Unfortunately, that meant that anyone who was having sex was at a high risk of contracting the disease.  Based on the reports of Freddie's sexual life, he had many partners and was a prime candidate for the disease.

In 1987, Freddie's worst nightmare became true-he was formally diagnosed with AIDS.  It was reported that he had symptoms as early as 1982 and suspected that he had the illness before his actual diagnosis.  Freddie struggled emotionally with the diagnosis; he was very private about his health and was said to have grieved tremendously.  Still, he continued to work and remain an active part of Queen.  The band would record Freddie's final album in 1991.  That June, he became too weak to continue.  The last few months of Freddie's life, he was confined to his home.  Freddie reportedly lost his vision and was in tremendous pain.  On November 24, 1991 Freddie lost his battle and passed at his home, surrounded by those who loved him most, former partner Mary and good friend Dave Clark among them.  Freddie's death was significant in that he was the first major celebrity to die of AIDS related illness.  

As for me, I came of age musically towards the latter half of the 1980s.  Of course, I knew We Will Rock You as most people did who attended or watched a sporting event.  But Queen's music never really registered with me because by that time, some of their greatest hits and success were behind them.  Around the time of Freddie's passing, they became popular again with Wayne and Garth bashing their heads to Bohemian Rhapsody.  I never knew too much about Freddie personally, particularly his sexuality.  I remember distinctly that two of his other fellow Brits-Elton John and George Michael, were still in the closet.  However, there was very public speculation about their sexuality.  I vaguely remember at the time of Freddie's passing the discussion of his sexuality.  I think the general consensus was that nobody was "surprised" at his passing, but thankfully I do not remember much moral outrage.  Being gay was still very much scorned upon and judged, particularly in the United States, at that time.  I still do not remember a lot of condemnation.  Freddie was so well-respected for his artist, and for that I am grateful.  

When I became an adult, I grew to appreciate Freddie and his life.  What I love about him so much is his boldness and confidence onstage.  This otherwise quiet man had a side of him that not only came alive onstage, but thrived in a way that few others of his artists did.  Freddie knew exactly who that side of him was and allowed himself and his fans to experience every second of it.  He was an original and dared to show that  side of himself to massive audiences.  When it was announced that a movie about Freddie's life was being made, and that it would star Rami Malek, I couldn't have been more overjoyed.  Rami is one of my favorite actors from his Mr. Robot days, and every character he portrayed was to perfection.  Even though the movie was in many ways fictitious, Rami absolutely embraced the life and person of Freddie and won many rightfully deserved awards for it, including an Academy Award.  I could tell how much Rami respected Freddie, and you probably couldn't have picked a better person to portray him.

More importantly, I loved who Freddie Mercury was as a person.  There were so many facets to Freddie's gem.  I am attracted to people who know who they are, every bit of themselves, and Freddie personified that.  Off stage, Freddie was the sensitive person who was a cat father.  Freddie and Mary's relationship dared to explore the complex relationship of gay men and the women who love them for anyone who cared to pay attention.  I know from close friendships with gay men that they do love the women in their lives, and very deeply.  A lot of people do not understand that.  They do not understand that your "soulmate" does not necessarily have to be your romantic partner.  Freddie and Mary were wise enough to understand that.  Freddie also understood that while he was by nature an introvert, there was part of him that was a complete deity waiting to come out onstage.  He was wise and confident enough in himself to let that part of him shine. He was both a composer and interpreter of music.  Freddie understood exactly who he was and shared his full self with the whole world. I have always felt a kinship with Freddie because of that reason.  I am also an introvert who has many facets to me, and it is one of the things I appreciate most about myself.  

It was widely speculated that Freddie would have survived his diagnosis if the proper medicine was available to him at the time.  AIDS is not a death sentence in the 21st century, far from it.  For many of us, Freddie is frozen in time.  He will forever be the young man with so much energy, with the looks of many characters, moving across the stage and dazzling us with his lyrics, beautiful voice, and presence.  I have often wondered what life would have been like for Freddie if he had lived longer.  I suspect it would have been more of what he did best.  He never slowed down despite his diagnosis, and I think he would have still continued creating his music, toured, and blessed us with the gift that is Freddie Mercury.

Happy 75th birthday, beautiful and wise soul.  

The Other Worlds of Night part 2

In the first part of this post, I talked about my own experiences and began to explore different theories of dreaming.  Most dream theorists believe that dreams are either largely or all symbolic.  I agree that a lot of our dreams can be symbolic.  But I also believe, as some other dream theorists believe, that dreams serve to enlighten us and teach us things.  They can hold answers that we may not necessarily be apparent to us in our waking life.  Most dream theorists would tell you that dreams never tell you things you already know.  The reason why is that our dreams originate in our unconscious and subconscious states of mind.  Our unconscious is the part of our either knowledge or intuition that is not quite aware to us.  However, it holds a lot of clues to our understanding, about ourselves, our emotions, and situations in our lives.  Dreams are that almost magical bridge between our not knowing and knowing things.  I knew an individual who began to have reoccurring dreams about driving down their street and seeing a for sale sign on their home.  This person was also telling close friends that they noticed major changes in their spouse.  It was disclosed several months later that the spouse was having an extramarital affair.  The dreamer was aware on some level what was happening but just wasn't quite aware.  But they "knew" and their dream was one of the first voices to say something.  A major change was happening which did affect the happy home (or seemingly.)  After the affair was revealed, the dream made perfect sense to the dreamer.   Many people report having dreams like this. People are perceptive and may not know the truth of everything, but they are good at picking up on clues and things around them that do not seem right to them.  Dreams can hold the answers that elude them in waking life, or they can provide an answer where there does not seem to be one immediately available.   There is also the concept of a "precognitive" dream where dreamers will dream about events that occur in the future.  Infamously, Abraham Lincoln purportedly had a dream about his assassination around ten days before he was shot and killed.  Those to me are out of the realm of science and so I will not focus much on them.  But, I will not confirm or discount their existence.  A lot of dream work and interpretation cannot be measured in scientific terms.  The fact that we do dream and our brain activity can absolutely be confirmed.  So, I will be open to all people's experiences.

How can you use dreams in your favor?  Here are some helpful ideas:

1. Be open to the idea that your dreams are a part of you and exist to help you improve your life.  I have found that it is fascinating to explore this part of my life and appreciate everything that it does for me.  I strongly encourage anyone who might be on the fence, see it as insignificant, etc. to keep an open mind.  

2. Pay attention to your dreams and begin to give thought to them during your waking time.

3. Keep a journal.  Journals are a great way of helping you to understand your dreams.  Sometimes just putting them in written form can help you to understand what might not make sense when you think about them.  It is like when you were in school and had to make a presentation.  Maybe you knew in your head what you wanted to say.  But when it came out, it made sense to everyone you were trying to reach.  Dreams are the same way.

4.  Take a stab an interpreting your dreams.  When you do so, take a long look at your life and what is currently happening.  Are you worried that your job might be going away?  Maybe you lack closure from a failed relationship.  Is your child exhibiting behavioral changes that concern you but you can't put your finger on it?  Pay attention to the people and characters in your dream.  Is there a certain color that jumps out at you?  What about the place?  Is it familiar to you, or is it totally unfamiliar?  Is it a place you know but does not look the way that you know it to be?  

5. Ask for help or do further research if you are stymied by a dream.  There are a lot of great resources online that I am going to post, but those are just a few of many.  If something concerns you, your clergy member or a therapist may be able to help out.  Or, if you have a friend like me who studies dream interpretation, reach out and ask them.  I can confidently say that we all exist to help fellow dreamers.

I have only scratched the surface of this fascinating world of dreaming.  I might post more specific topics related to this in future posts.  But for now, happy dreaming!  I wish you the best in this wonderful unique world that we experience every night.

 For more information:

This site has a lot of everything from symbols, a dream dictionary, even forums to discuss dreams:

Your Online Source For Dream Interpretations (dreammoods.com)

A comprehensive look at color in dreams:

The Meaning of Colors: Color Symbolism in Our Dreams (journeyintodreams.com)

Here is an extremely comprehensive list of books about dreaming:

Resources - Professional Dream Interpretation LLC

This is a very comprehensive website devoted to all things about dream interpretation:

Dream Interpretation | Jungian Analysis

An interesting article on the difference between the U.S. and other cultures and how dreams are viewed:

Opinion | To Dream in Different Cultures - The New York Times (nytimes.com)

The Other Worlds of Night part 1

 I was walking down the alley as a child of around eight years of age on a warm, sunny afternoon.  The walk was very casual and uneventful.  I was looking into people's yards as I passed through.  Everyone had their doors open, and I could see different people's kitchens.  I looked into one kitchen, and there was a display of kitchen knives on a wooden block, hanging on the wall.  A man who seemed to be in his 50s saw me looking in, grabbed one of the knives and started chasing me down the alley.  I just outran him before I got to my yard and quickly shut the gate.  I was safe.  And obviously I am safe, because this was just a dream.  It was a reoccurring dream, actually, and I had this several times over throughout my childhood.  I suppose the die was cast with that.  I have always been interested in dreams, the analyzing of dreams, and dream work.  In fact, I participate in a group of wonderful ladies where we meet regularly and help each other and ourselves discover what our dreams mean to us.

Dreams are not just powerful to me.  They have been written about as long as human history has been recorded.  Every major religion has stories in their holy books about dreams, interpretations of dreams, and the role that they play in our lives.  Spirituality in its various forms also sees dreams as spiritual exercises given either by our conscious or some sort of external loving force for our good.  Ancient societies as well as modern indigenous groups have strong beliefs and practices regarding dreams.  Some of our most creative and influential minds have relied on things revealed to them in dreams.  For example, Albert Einstein dreamed about his Theory of Relativity and then explored it in waking life.  The rest is history.  Dreaming can be very simple, or it can be very complex.  Some people have the ability to "lucid dream"- dreaming while being aware that one is in a dream.  I have that ability and had my first lucid dream in June of 2018.  It was a dream where I was in an active shooting situation in a church.  Yes, weird why I would feel the need to stick with it, but I did.  I was aware that I was dreaming but I chose to stay with the dream until a telemarketer called me at around 8:45 a.m. and woke me up.  I have had numerous lucid dreams after that.  What is interesting about them is that I have also decided that I did not want to participate in the dream and wake up.  For example, I was walking down the hall of a hospital wearing a hospital gown and (thank god!) a robe.  A nurse showed me to a room with a sick older woman laying in the bed of the room that I was supposed to stay in as a patient.  I was aware of it and decided that I did not feel like continuing in a dream where I was sick.  Some people have written about the ability during lucid dreams to problem solve or direct the dream in the direction they want it to go.  I am not one of those people.  My abilities with lucid dreaming is just to be aware of the fact that I am dreaming and whether or not I stay with the dream and for how long.  

Sometimes people fear dreams because they are scary, as in the case of my childhood dream.  But, it is important to remember that they should not be considered as scary.  Most dream theorists, including pioneers like Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung, believe that dreams are largely symbolic.  Whereas we may be fearing that we are being chased by a criminal or a snake in a dream, we are not literally being chased by them.  Instead, we are being faced with a nefarious person or situation in our lives.  The snake may be a toxic job or coworker; the criminal chasing you might be a bad situation in your life.  It may be increasing debt, the deterioration of a relationship, or a medical issue which may be deteriorating.  Or, there might be other people in the dreams called "archetypes"- people who signify a general concept.  A warrior, the hero, a king or queen, a bully, a goddess, an idealized partner, all of these people you might dream about are reminiscent of tales you heard growing up, fables, mythology, or the like.  Someone you may know in waking life may remind you of a romantic partner, or a fearless soldier.  And, according to a lot of dream theorists like Carl Jung, that person is indeed yourself!  There is a belief that every individual character in a dream is a part of yourself or your subconscious or your personality.  

So, how can you know what your own dreams are trying to tell you?  They are definitely trying to tell you something, of that you can be certain.  Since that could be a very long answer, I am going to answer that in part 2 of this topic.  

The Wisdom of the Young

 All of us have met a variety of young people in our lives, whether it be classmates growing up, children who are now a part of our family, children and teenagers who are your neighbors, or attend the same church.  I was a child who was always very observant about the world around me.  That was true of many, many of my classmates, but I only realized it as an adult.  "Philip" was a student at a school I attended, around 9 years old.  Philip's father was an alcoholic.  He did not have a mother who lived with them.  How did I know that?  Because other students told the story about him.  There may have been other students with the same experiences, but Philip was labeled as a behavioral problem and thus more well-known among his peers.  I had enough interactions with Philip to realize that he was nowhere near as misbehaved as teachers made him out to be.  Maybe a bit of a trickster, but he never had serious anger issues.  I think perhaps he had ADHD.  At that young age, I did not understand what alcoholism was.  I thought of an alcoholic as a man laying in the streets passed out.  I did not realize that alcoholics were parents, teachers, co-workers, CEOs of corporations.  I used to feel bad for Philip because of his contstantly being subjected to discipline.  As an adult, I feel even worse for him that he had to live with a neglectful father, possibly abusive.  Philip certainly got to reprieve from his home life at school.  He never got a break, really.  Everywhere he was, there was a problem.  One of my classmates ran into him as an adult, and I am happy to say that he seems to have his life in order after such a tumultuous childhood.  

"Luke" was a classmate in high school.  When I first met him, I heard from several of his friends that he lived with a stepfather who was constantly verbally abusing him and occasionally punched him in the face.  Luke was angry and reactive.  In fact, I was a target of his anger, and sometimes he scared me.  I may have not known why he was so angry, but those around him did.  And those of his friends, for whatever reason, decided to share his story with those of us who were not Luke's friends.  Especially when I got to high school, I heard more and more of those stories.  My classmates were always very aware of the lives of their peers.  There were several students at my school whose grandparents were raising them because their parents had legal problems, unable to parent, etc.  Everyone seemed to know what the problems of their fellow classmates were.  Again, it did not strike me at the time.  Developmentally, none of us were able to fully conceptualize what all of these things meant.  But when I picked up my newspaper a few years after graduation and saw that Luke had committed an egregious murder, I was not at all surprised.  Completely heartbroken for his victim, yes.  Surprised, no.  I do not think anyone who knew Luke in high school was surprised, either.  

My schooling was a very up and down experience.  The high times were when I was a public school student.  The low times were when I was a student at a private school.  It just was a horrible experience from start to finish.  I had headaches contstantly, I felt tense, sometimes it was hard for me to even be hungry.  And I was anxious, although I didn't realize at the time.  But my body was telling me that something was wrong.  I approached my parents about leaving the private school because of the things that were happening there.  Unfortunately, they did not listen to me.  Part of that, I believe, is that like many adults, they did not recognize that young people can articulate for themselves and know what is best for them at times.  Of course, this is not talking about letting your child do dangerous things or something which would not be in their best interests.  This was me, as a young but perceptive individual, saying that I was suffering and needed to be removed from a situation.

When I was in college, I worked as a teacher in a preschool.  I worked in a classroom with later 3-year-olds and younger 4-year-olds.  I was warned about "Brandon" by the teachers.  He was a behavior problem, I was to really monitor his activities, they kept him on a very strict regimen, moreso than any other student.  And when I met him for the first time, Brandon did not disappoint. He came running into the classroom like a whirlwind.  The other teacher in the room, "Rebecca" immediately put him in time out.  I thought, what an introduction.  Truthfully, I was nowhere near as rattled by him running as Rebecca was.  Of course, it is not a good idea for a child to be running for safety reasons.  But that day, I immediately saw the dynamic between Brandon and Rebecca.  Everything he did, she kept him in a box.  Even if Brandon tried to speak to her, she was very dismissive, told him to sit down, etc.  The children had nap time in the afternoon, and Brandon had trouble falling asleep.  We mostly took our breaks during that time.  Sometimes I would see Brandon walk up to Rebecca and try and talk with her.  She would immediately tell him, "Sit down, go back your on your mat and go to sleep."  Brandon could never sleep.  When Rebecca was on her break and I was the only teacher in the classroom, Brandon would come up and talk to me.  You know what I did?  I listened to him.  He talked about how he was going to be an older brother, about his cat, and stories about home.  They weren't very profound conversations, but it was enough.  After I talked to him for just a few minutes, Brandon would go back and fall asleep and get the nap he needed.  As our life paths would have it, I reconnected with Brandon.  He did have ADHD but proudly overcame his challenges to graduate high school.  

All of these experiences made me realize two things.  First, children and teenagers are much more wise than we realize and give them credit for.  They know about the pains of their friends and classmates, even if they do not fully understand the ramifications.  In my case, I knew what was a bad situation.  I was able to articulate what was wrong in my school and how those problems were affecting me.  And that brings me to my second realization.  Parents and adults are entirely too dismissive of the young.  Sometimes they do not realize that their children are often as perceptive as they are and that they know what they are talking about.  Or, even more disheartening, they look at children like Philip and Brandon and label them as they see fit.  They're "trouble" and need to be reigned in.  They do not deserve to be listened to, they just need to be put in a box and told what to do.  Having these realizations make me much more sensitive than most when I listen to children and teenagers.  And I have been able to have many meaningful conversations with them as a result.  One of the more profound ones was when I encountered a teenage girl who found out she was pregnant.  I listened to her without judgement as she talked about how terrified she was to tell her parents.  She needed someone to listen who just listened and would not yell or threaten her.  I do not know what happened in her situation, but I can only hope for the best.  I hope she remembers that someone actually did listen and hear her fear when she needed it the most. 

I suspect that if you are reading this, you do have an interest in young people.  If you do not already have this realization about how wise young people are, please read this with an open mind.  Next time you encounter a child who might seem different that their peers, take the time to understand why.  Do not ever dismiss the "complaints" of a child.  Children do know and understand their world around them.  Sometimes they are even wiser than the adults around them.  I honor all of the wise young souls who I know, those who I do not know, and those with whom I will come in contact in the future.  I hear you and I see you.  You are wise.  

Plans, Reality, and The Unexpected

 A year ago, I was enjoying what I thought was going to be the last summer at my house.  Of course, we were all stuck at home, so I was spending a lot of time out in my yard.  My yard is my sanctuary.  I can sit out in the day and read and enjoy the nature; at night, I can sit out for hours and just look at the sky.  I will miss that, but it was time to be moving along.  My plans were that I was going to move sometime in the fall.  It is now summer 2021, and I am still here in my current home.  I am on some waiting lists for several apartment complexes in the area, but I am still not sure whether a home or apartment is right for me at this time in my life.  Some things are very much up in the air.  But I trust life enough that there is a new place for me, with new neighbors to meet, new experiences, and it will a place that meets my needs.  Why am I still here?  There is a complex answer for that.  Part of it is that with the pandemic, housing of various forms is not readily available.  The other part was that there were financial realities of the situation.  Last summer, I experienced a completely unexpected loss in my life.  I was not in any way expecting it, so I had to take the money I was saving towards the move and apply to expenses towards the loss.  I was also a bit overwhelmed and did not likely have the energy for such a big change after such an unexpected time of grief.  As fall turned into winter, I decided that I did not want to try and move when I would need to anticipate snow, ice storms, etc.  I said March I would be willing to move and start the process.  Whichever placed opened up, that was where I would go.  

Last year around this time, I checked my work email on a random Tuesday night because I had forgotten to order an accessory I needed for my laptop and needed to find out what to order.  I never in a million years expected the email that was waiting for me.  A longtime employee was leaving at the end of the week.  Did I want to take over the responsibilities of his job?  Hell yeah!  It was one of the crown glory positions.  I was pretty much managing one of the other accounts, and I enjoyed it.  However, their company was furloughing its employees due to the pandemic, and a lot of our work was drying up there.  The months of April and May were a bit lean, and so was my pay.  Problem solved!  I moved into the role very well.  I did it with my full attention and devotion from that day on.  At the end of last year, my company was anticipating a large new contract with a new company, and my boss wanted me to work on that when it started.  I was thoroughly enjoying what I was doing and did not want to move to the new account, but good luck telling your boss that.  To my own credit and abilities as a worker, my boss wanted someone experienced and who had good communication skills to be able to teach others what to do.  My responsibilities were given away as of March 1.  And there was a major problem-the new company and mine were not coming to a satisfactory agreement.  There was no contract.  My responsibilities were given away based on a contract which did not even exist.  I tried very hard to get even half of my responsibilities back, but my boss would not budge. I had a few things to do each week, and I mean a few.  My income was decreased over 75 percent.  Then things got ugly.  For privacy reasons, I will not get into it.  But, I learned that it was not a good place for me to be.  My boss was never a warm and fuzzy person, but I saw an even worse side.  I needed a new job.  And it could not have possibly come at a worse time with the summer coming up and really needing to get out of here.  Nothing was changing with the project until around a month ago.  The contract did go forward, and the new project began. I started on the new project because I still had not found a new job.  Any job is a good job when the bills need to be paid and you need every dollar coming in.  

A few weeks ago after having numerous training meetings for the new project, on a random afternoon, I got an email from my boss. If it was okay, I would be moved back to my old position.  Again, hell yeah!  I really missed it.  I know the job like the back of my hand, and I enjoyed the accounts I was working on.  I moved right back into it, and it was like no time had passed.  The reality, though, is that time had passed, and I still need a new job.  But, the crazy thing was, I thought I was moving on to a new job, not stalling where I am. I still do my job, but there is nothing left of me personally there.  When I move on from something emotionally, I never go back.  I am doing my duties but am still looking around for a new job.  Life had me back around the bend again, as it were.  

And that is the fascinating part of life.  Life is full of twists and turns.  My life has certainly had no shortage of challenges, and there was very rough part I hit at the end of 2015.  It got very narrow, and I knew that it was going to be a sink or swim time for me.  2016, I sunk.  The losses that I had at the end of 2015 were expected and not a shock, but they really left my life empty.  I had trouble going forward.  The holidays of 2016 in particular were rough.  I sat on Thanksgiving morning wondering how I even had the strength to get up and go to my family's celebration.  I did, and I always do.  I was still struggling well into 2017, and there were some more complex things that happened over that summer, none of which were positive.  At the end of 2017, I had the opportunity to hear a speaker and author who survived a near death experience.  I had to drag myself there that night, too.  His words resonated with me.  He discussed how when he was entering the death process that his whole life passed in front of him before his eyes.  He ended with, "We are all going to die sooner or later.  My hope for you is that when you get to that time and you see those things pass before your eyes, there are much more happier things than bad ones."  That night, I decided that I needed to somehow move on and give it one more shot.  I want to stress that I do not believe in that nonsense like "The Secret" and the New Age belief that when you put out intentions the universe lets everything line up in your favor.  But I will say that when I truly intended to move on, doors opened in my life like you would believe. And they all had one thing in common-they were totally unexpected.  And good.  The only bad unexpected in the past few years was the loss of last summer.  Everything else was good.  For example, a few months after that night, I got a call from a close relative on a random Monday morning.  They ran into another relative of mine who was a huge part of my life from the time I was a child.  There was some kind of feud and they did not speak for years.  That meant the rest of us were caught up in it as well.  On a Monday morning, they both ran into each other face-to-face at the grocery store.  Neither one could even determine why they stopped speaking.  They reconciled in the grocery store, on a random Monday morning.  Were they expecting that?  Probably not.  I sure as was not expecting to get a phone call with that story on a random Monday morning.  But I was very happy about it.  Now my long lost relative is once again a part of all of our lives, at family get togethers.  

I have had many other times like this in my life where just randomly, things happened. And other times, what seems lost in the moment or for a long time will come back around.  We just don't know when. Maybe I will share those stories some other time.  But for now, I will conclude with this.  Life is rather unexpected, but it is what makes things so much fun.  These past three and a half years have been totally not what I thought they would be.  They are actually much more interesting, happy, and full of new people and experiences than I would have believed possible.  I have adopted the life philosophy of "expect the unexpected."  On this day approaching mid-June, I am still at my current home and at my current job, but I expect both to change sometime within the next several months.  

So, what's next for me?  I really don't know!  But what do know is that I look forward to it, because the unexpected has been very good for me.  And I love new things and new experiences.  Stay tuned, I will surely talk about them all.