Tag: dreams

Flying and Letting Go

January 4th, 2026

I sometimes dream about flying. I guess a lot of people do that. I have heard that it is a common type of dream. It might be a different situation in my case in that there was a time when I actually did fly. I was an U.S. Army aviator back in the day. For five years I flew helicopters, initially Hueys (think of the movie Apocalypse Now) and later Black Hawks (the film Black Hawk Down comes to mind). I was never in combat, but I flew. It was often fun, and occasionally terrifying. I stopped being a pilot back in August of 1986. That was a long time ago, but apparently that role is still part of my life, or at least of my history.

My flying dreams are usually frustrating. I never actually get to fly. I am always preparing for a flight, sometimes on the verge of takeoff, but I never quite get into the air. Apparently, the problem is that the current version of myself is trying to be who I was forty years ago. In my dream I have a long beard, which I do now, but obviously did not have as an Army officer. In the dream I am not in uniform but should be. In the dream, somebody is giving me orders that I have no intention of following. It just never works out. I stay on the ground.

People ask me, “Do you miss flying?” the answer is: “Of course.” However, I know in my mind and my heart that flying is no longer part of life. That part of my story is done. It was wonderful while it lasted, but it’s over now, and I have many other things to do. I have other responsibilities. I am no longer a pilot. I can’t return to that identity. Even in my dreams, I know that I can’t go back.

I had a conversation yesterday, via Zoom, with a woman who is the guiding teacher for the Zen sangha to which I belong. She asked me questions about my life and I babbled on for a while. Then she spoke briefly about detachment and letting go. Zen is all about that. Zen is about being in the moment and not hanging on to things that are either lost in the past or hidden in the future. All there that exists is the present. The past is dead and the future a mystery.

The teacher gave me a subject on which to meditate. I am not very good at letting go of things, especially relationships. It is hard for me to stay in the moment, although our young grandson, Asher, does his best to keep me in the here and now. Caring fulltime for the little guy does not allow me much time to wallow in the past. That is a very good thing. In that respect, Asher is an excellent spiritual guide, and one who loves me, as I love him.

I write about Asher frequently. At this point, my life revolves around the boy. I have a friend, who reads my blog, and he once asked me what I will do when Asher is no longer in my life. The guiding teacher from the Zen sangha also touched on that. Will I be able to let go of Asher when he no longer needs my full attention? I don’t know. I will not know the answer to that question until the moment when he slips away from me (or I from him).

It is clear that someday Asher and I will separate. That is inevitable. That will hurt. The only question is how I will accept it.

He will be always in my dreams.

Five Years Old

December 2nd, 2025

I walked up the staircase to the kindergarten classroom. Martha was at the top of the stairs. She smiled at me and said,

“So, today is the big day! Asher was so excited coming in!”

I found our grandson, Asher, and my wife, Karin standing next to Asher’s school locker. Asher was changing into his indoor shoes, and Karin was exchanging a new set of Asher’s clothes for an older, now too small set that Asher kept in his locker in case he needed to change for some reason. Asher’s classmates were sitting or standing in the hallway waiting for Miss Sara to greet them and bring them into the classroom one by one. She does that with them every school day. It lets the child know that he or she is important to Miss Sara as an individual. Waldorf education puts on emphasis on rituals like that and today was no exception.

Miss Sara told Karin and me that she had set up chairs for us near to her seat. Asher was given a chair right next to Miss Sara today, and only for today. She invited the other children into the classroom, and they all sat in a circle with Miss Karina on a round carpet. Sara brought Asher into the room last of all.

He came in wearing a silk cape and a felted crown that was deep blue in color and studded with stars. She shepherded him up to the front of the room and had him sit next to her facing his classmates. She had a small table in front of her with a wooden platter that held five beeswax candles. She took a match and carefully lit each one. Asher sat in his chair and stared at his classmates.

Miss Sara told the class that today a special day, and she then slowly told them this story:

“Once upon a time, in a place both far away and close to us, there lived a heavenly child. This child worked in the House of the Sun and in the House of the Moon. He was happy in heaven, and he spent time with the angels.

One day, the clouds parted and the heavenly child saw below him a beautiful jewel in the dark sky. He said, ‘What is that? I want to go there!’

His angel replied, ‘That is the earth. You cannot go there yet.’

On another day, the clouds parted again, and the child saw the earth up close. He could see all the different colors and the trees and animals. He could see people. He saw a man and a woman, and he loved them. He said,

‘I want to go down there and be with that family!’

His angel told him, ‘Not yet. First you must work in the House of Dreams.’

So, the child worked in the House of Dreams, and he dreamt of the man and the woman. He also dreamt of grandparents who were full of love. In his dream he told them, ‘I want to be part of your family!’

Woman smiled at him, and the man nodded.

When the child left the House of Dreams, his angel said that he could go to the earth and join the family. The child walked across the rainbow bridge that stretched from heaven to earth. He hesitated for a moment. His angel told him,

‘Go across. I will be at your side.’ “

Miss Sara paused. Then she continued and told the children,

“On that day Asher was born. That was five years ago!”

She told Asher to cup his hands and close his eyes so that she could give him a gift. She dropped two small, highly polished stones into his palms. One was dark green and heart-shaped, and the other had bright, multicolored stripes.

She told him to blow out the candles on the wooden tray. It took him several tries, but he did so.

His classmates cheered.

Asher grinned.

I wept.

Autumn

August 31st, 2025

“Grandpa, when do I start school?”

Asher woke me up at 2:00 AM to ask me that question. He was lying in bed next to me. He had been restless for a few minutes prior to that. I roused myself long enough to answer,

“In three days.”

Asher begins kindergarten at the Waldorf school on Wednesday morning. For him it will be a seismic change in life. New schedule, new friends, a new teacher, a new environment. My wife can still remember her first day of school. She has a faded black and white photo from Germany with her smiling and holding her Schul Tute, a large cone with little gifts inside. I can’t remember my first day of kindergarten, but I can recall my first day at West Point, back in 1976. In some ways that sort of radical change could be similar to what Asher may experience. I moved a thousand miles from home and cut the connection with nearly everything I had done and learned in my first eighteen years of life. I entered a strange new world, and Asher will do much the same thing on Wednesday.

Asher laid his head on my shoulder. He twisted and turned until he made himself comfortable. Then he fell asleep again in the crux of my right arm.

I had an intense and vivid dream. It was from my time in the Army as an aviator. I was in an aircraft hangar and looking out at the sky. A storm was rapidly approaching. Heavy, swirling clouds darkened the horizon. Winds blew and whipped into the hangar. Large objects were thrown about. I dodged them as rain poured outside.

I woke up late this morning. Well, for me getting up at 6:21 AM qualifies as late. It was light already, and I didn’t get up in time to see the morning star. The sun shown through the trees. A heavy dew covered the grass in the yard, and drops of water dripped from the gutters. The kitchen window was open, and cold air blew into the house. It is still August, but it feels like autumn. A few of the trees already have leaves changing color. The goldenrod is in full bloom with tiny bright yellow flowers.

Things are changing, and they are changing quickly.

My wife went to a handicraft store yesterday. She came home a bag full of wool yarn.

She told me sheepishly, “I spent $200.”

I replied, “We have the money. Spend it if it keeps you happy and sane.”

As Asher approaches the beginning of his school year, Karin is delving more deeply into her fiber arts. She is weaving more, knitting more, spinning more. On Friday, she will go to the annual Wisconsin Sheep and Wool Festival. She assures me that she won’t spend as much. That doesn’t matter. It matters that she feeds her creativity. She will attend a class at the festival. She can buy whatever she needs while she is there. Once Asher is in kindergarten, Karin will have a small hole in her life where Asher used to be. She has to fill it. Karin loves to care for Asher. She should fill the hole with something else that she loves to do.

New things. Exciting things. Scary things. Fun things.

A change of seasons.