Strange Dreams

I am usually pretty good at decifering the meaning of my dreams when I remember them, but I have had two in the last week that I can't put my finger on unless they are just a culmination of the books I've been reading and other media my eyes and ears have absorbed. Maybe you can help me out.

The first dream started inside a house I did not recognize. I must have been sitting on the floor or a very low couch because the big picture window to my right seemed above my head, yet I could still see out of it. There were pine trees and sky, nothing else and it seemed like a gray, dreary day. (I suppose I could connect that with the gloomy weather we've had lately.) The inside of the room was dark and the only other person I "sensed" being there was my father. He was also to the right of me, but I never saw or looked at him. It was quiet in the room and I felt like we were waiting for something. Then, I looked out the window again and there was an owl perched on the branch of the closest pine. He was huge and had very prominent brown feathers with a bright red breast. He looked right back at us while he perched. I pointed him out to my father, "Look at the owl!" as another one flew in and purched on a pine farther away. The owl closer to us started to fly away, but hovered at the top of the pine just like a humming bird. I could even see the buzzing, flittering action like a humming birds tail. That was it. The End

The second dream began inside a huge, old theater. The kind that should actually be spelled theatre because it has those antique, ornate, dark carved walls, with ceilings as tall as the sky and long velvet drapes hanging everywhere. I was seated on the right of the room, waiting for something to begin, although I have no idea what, when all of a sudden the lights went out. Everything was pitch black with only hazy light streaming in from some high (there's the high windows again) arched windows behind and to the left of me. All of a sudden, amongst whispering (nobody seemed to be making much noise) there was the rumbling of a train in the distance and then growing louder until it whizzed by those windows and finally made that peeling sound of metal grinding against metal as it stopped. That's when people started to worry. Everyone near me started talking about "the Hands, not the Hands," some of them even trying to crawl under seats and hide. Not me! I got out of there. Next thing I know, I'm in a dark, wet, street running away - the typical dark street and sidewalk you would see in some horror movie.

I guess I must have escaped and made it home because the next thing I know, it's the morning after and I'm sitting and talking to a guy who apparently knows how to ward of these "Hands" and protect myself. He showed me a garment that had some sort of talisman weaved into it, then he showed me something that caught my interest even more - jewelry. Each ring or bracelet was different. Intricate designs decorated each piece, carvings, crosses, some pieces had metal that was completely twisted into the most graceful shape that perfectly wrapped around your finger. He slipped one on his finger and said, "Here's how it works. When a Hand is near you, you must bind their arms in front of them and get as close as you can to their face. Then, when you are sure they can't move, you say the word of release. Each piece has a different release word. This particular one is hike." As he said the word, this tiny little creature with legs everywhere creeped out of the ring, searching, crawling up and down his arm and, finding nothing, vanished. I soon found out what that little bug was looking for. A Hand came crashing into the room, lunging for me and I immediately grabbed for another ring sitting on the table next to me. We struggled, and I remember thinking while I fought with him that he was very attractive. Finally pinning his arms, I leaned toward his face, released the grip of my right hand and brought it to his face saying, "Strike!" Another creature appeared from the ring and crawled onto the Hand's face immediately racing toward his forhead where suddenly a small opening was appearing as the Hand was writhing, crying out to let him go. The bug pushed into the opening and it closed up behind it. Then, with less than a small woosh, the Hand disappeared and a new ring pinged to the floor. I picked it up and stared, amazed. The guy that was there with me told me how well I did and that I would be a great fighter. I had similar run-in's with these "Hands" for the rest of the dream until I woke up.

Phew! So, do you think am I totally mad? What does it all mean? Is it just a random creation of my brain or is my subconscious trying to tell me something? I'd love to hear your interpretations. Maybe there are pieces of the dream that mean something and other "fillers" from current events. Maybe I've read one too many fantasy novels. Either way, they both stood out to me enough to question them. I try to write all of my dreams down when I remember them. In fact, my sister-in-law gave me a journal for Christmas two years ago that I use for that purpose. I love journals! But that's another blog...