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Dreams are kind of a weird thing.

We have them when we sleep and all too often forget them by the time we awake in the morning.

Sometimes they awaken us in the night because they are so darned scary we’re afraid to go back to sleep.

Sometimes they awaken us in the night and they’re so darned good we try to go back to sleep to get back to the story but alas, we are unable to traverse there again to recreate the magic moment.

Then there’s the recurring dream. The one that happens again and again in your sleep.

Until this week, I’ve only had one recurring dream. I’m driving in a convertible up a very steep bridge over a very large river and the slope becomes so steep I am desperately clinging to the steering wheel, fighting to not fall out of the back of the car and plummet to the raging waters below. Then I wake up.

I only had that recurring dream a few times many years ago. I never fell.

For the last two nights, oddly, I have had another recurring dream. It involves a man on a business trip. (It’s not me. I’m watching this dream like a movie.)

Mr. Businessman spies an alluring lady at the business conference. They catch eyes from across the room. She is carrying a bag. Not a fancy satchel bag, but a white, plastic shopping bag. (Actually, it’s the bag where I store my high school letter sweater that’s tucked in a dresser drawer. Dreams are weird that way.)

I woke up, took a drink of water, thought nothing of it, then went back to sleep. There they were again in the dream, not having made a connection yet, but still at that same business convention, he in the suit, she with the fancy bag.

Alarm chirped. Dream over. I jotted down some notes because it was so vivid, so surreal, I knew I’d forget it if I didn’t. What the heck was my letter sweater bag doing in this dream?

Next night, I fall asleep. The scene of the dream returns. Same alluring woman, same business man. This time the scene was what may be an after party at a bar.

She’s carrying the same bag and slips over to Mr. Businessman and surreptitiously shares the contents of the bag with the man. The plastic bag is filled with a big pile of gold chains, like the ones you wear as jewelry. All are different styles. All are connected together by the clasps at the end of their links. There are hundreds of them.

I woke up momentarily, then nodded off again and the dream came back. There was the business man and the alluring girl, fancy plastic shopping bag full of gold chains in hand. They were at a train station.

He was leaving. She wasn’t, but she handed him the bag saying simply, “I want you to have this.”

He resisted at first, then acquiesced and said, “May I give one to my wife?”

She replied, “That wasn’t what I had in mind, but sure.”

Alarm chirped. Dream over. But not before I dreamt it four times in succession in two nights. At this point, I don’t know what the dream means or what the man did with the chains or what the lady did have in mind for the bag o gold chains. But, if I find out in another dream one night, I’ll let you know.

FOOTNOTE: Why a cover photo of a cloud?

Dreams remind me of clouds. They are there in our lives to be sure, but they kind of hover out there in a different spatial reality where you know they exist, but you can’t quite reach out and touch them.

Sometimes you dream at night and sometimes you don’t. Sometimes there are clouds in the sky, and sometimes the sky is clear. You have no control over your dreams. Likewise, you have no control over the clouds.

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