Lucid Dreams

Nothing external worth sharing from yesterday, a lot of legal reading, so let’s delve within.

I often refer to my life in NoCo as being comparable to life on mars. That is because, when I first arrived, I found it so different from the busy 24/7/365 life one experiences living and working in the “City that never sleeps.”

Now that I have acclimated to life here in Mayberry, and I use that term lovingly, I appreciate all that a slower paced life offers, especially to a slower paced me.

As you know, I maintained my East Coast circadian rhythm for many Colorado years.

I still wake up at approximately two each morning, and I’ll let the dogs out, maybe do a bit of grounding at the Old Man, making my neighbors wonder about me, but I don’t have that compulsion to get up and start my day, the way I did when I first arrived.

I can now force myself back to sleep. It takes a bit of tossing and turning, but the next thing I know, its four o’clock on my Alexa screen. This change from recent years could just be that I’m hurtling towards my 69th birthday this fall – making this my “Summer of 69” – which people forget actually means I will have completed 69 trips around the sun – and will be entering my 70th circumnavigation of Mother Gaia. Six complete decades of physical wear and tear requires more sleep to repair and recuperate.

I’ve been dreaming a lot more recently. Every night it seems. Often during this extra sleep period between 2 and 4 am. Sometimes the dreams are lucid – very real. The Avatar me is always on some quest, sometimes alone, sometimes with people I don’t know or recognize, heading somewhere, towards something, that the Avatar seems okay in pursuing, even at great risk, always with a dystopian setting, no sunny days of flying kites or chasing butterflies, no one to keep me company. An every man for himself feel to it. But my Controller me who seems to be watching the Avatar have his fun hasn’t a clue what is happening, but observes it all roll out patiently and cautiously until something happens where my Controller me stops the film and says to the Avatar, “okay, wake up, you are only dreaming, this doesn’t impact your real life,” and the three of us wake together with Smokey and Bandit pushing me off the bed and to my feet into final consciousness. I always wake up feeling like I’ve dodged a bullet. Not frightened, but relieved. Glad whatever mistake I just made or negative event that occurred didn’t follow me into real life. A reset. The feelings generated by the dream still wafting around me but the details slipping from my consciousness like mercury from your palm. Then it’s gone. This happens a lot lately. Kind of cool.

Funny, that’s the second time I’ve written the above paragraph. The first time it just disappeared from my screen and this blog site doesn’t work like Word where I can “undo” recover it. Maybe the Universe didn’t want me to share it. Maybe the Universe forgot I’m a thick Mick and as stubborn as my Mule, Claire, who does what he wants. Either way, there you are. TMI.

But this hopefully means that my subconscious mind is pushing me to write again.

I hope so. I miss writing each morning. Telling my stories to the darkness.

The blogging helps, but it is only a temporary fix.

Well, I have things to do and then legal work to address.

You fine, five readers get out there and take on the work week.

Monday is again in your rear view mirror. The rest of the week is cake.

And most of all, let us all make today a great one