I was with a toddler, trying to settle her down for a nap.  She was fussy and restless.  We lay on the floor with pillows and a blanket and books.  But the house was noisy and she couldn't stay down, was unhappy, jumped up and ran around.  Finally I got her settled down in a grown-up bed in a more quiet part of the house, and she started to fall asleep. But there were men in the house working, coming and going, and slamming doors and making noise, because either they were oblivious to her needs and my work, or they had no respect and didn't care.  So I scolded them.

I was on a beach, with several adults and at least one small child.  We entered the water all together, and began swimming.  Then the tide took us and swept us far out to sea.  But we were not afraid.  We rode the waves and played. I adapted to the rise and fall of the water, so that I could ride a wave to the crest and be thrown into the air, completely out of the water for a second,  until splashing down again.  And it was great fun, and my companions laughed with appreciation that I was such a good swimmer and could ride the waves so well.  Then I thought I saw a shadow under one of the swells behind us, voiced a concern regarding sharks.  One of the men wiggled his fingers against me playfully and teased me by saying, "Oooh, sharks!" Then we all landed easily on the far shore and, while one man stood apart, a little ahead of the rest of us, as if waiting to lead the way, we all stood still together, and prayed, giving thanks for our safe delivery.  We were all OK. 

I was on foot in a procession through a city park, walking beside two women on horseback.  It was pleasant to chat.  One of the women was from Australia.  Later I  remembered riding one of the horses, and how I had scratched its back with my fingers and understood that the horse really liked being scratched.  Then that horse and another were galloping  loose and people were running around trying to catch them.  I stood in front of the horses, and made motions with my hand, as if I was scratching, thinking that the horse I had ridden might remember and might come to me, but it didn't work.  Then I was looking at some kind of idyllic family scene - as if from a fifties TV show - and the camera shifted to the back door of the house, and the view was from outside, in the dark of night, looking in, into the lighted house, and the door was standing open and a commentator's voice announced something about "and now for the big bad wolf" and there was a sense of menace approaching, and I awakened afraid and didn't want to sleep any more.

I was in a large interior space that was my living room, but it was also some kind of public space, people came and went. There was a couch, and the problem was that the couch also was somehow an important monument of the Mayan civilization, but people weren’t recognizing that, and tended to toss their jackets on it as they moved into the room.  So we talked about how we could solve this problem, how we could maybe mark the monument/couch in some way to designate it as a place for reverence and respect and spiritual attention. It seemed like an important thing to do.  I began cleaning, removing debris, getting ready to sweep.  I vaguely recall there was a massive square stone on the floor, that was also the couch, or it somehow became the couch . . . . I can't quite remember how.   

My daughters and I were with a group of people getting ready to go skin diving. A big table was covered with teacups with men's names on them.  Everyone was busy, picking up cups and searching through them.  One of my daughters kept telling me to find cups with "Frank" written on them, and we quickly found several, fitted them over our mouths and noses.  They were apparently an important part of our underwater breathing apparatus.  My daughters eventually found the cups they needed and seemed satisfied.  But the first Frank cup I tried on seemed too small.  My face felt cramped.  So I tried on other cups until I found a larger cup that fit more comfortably.  Then I felt satisfied, and also a bit defiant and independent.