Dream: Ghosts in the Wheat Field

AI's surprisingly accurate rendering of what I dreamed

Welcome to my Dark Dream

I have begun writing down my dreams this year. I usually do not remember dreaming, but lately they have become extremely vivid. Hello, Menopause. I do not think every dream carries deep meaning, but some seem to help me work through emotions and thoughts I have not had time to process. I have also used AI for a bit of external insight. My goal in reviewing my dreams is simply to make sure I am not ignoring something my body or brain might be trying to communicate. 

My Recent Dream

I was watching a scary movie with teens and adults. I remember there was something about an old camera and a missing film chip. In the movie, a young girl disappeared and then the movie began to glitch, so a group of us, including my son, went outside to try and get better reception. I recall that it was night with a distant storm and a wheat field across the main road and to the right. We crossed that road onto one of dirt that ran by a wheat field. While working to get the movie to come in again on a handheld TV, we began to notice faint, ghosts began drifting past us. They didn't interact with us or look our way but simply passed by. The most vivid was a large (6ft'ish+) gray, long‑armed creature crawling vertical along the side edge of the field like it was a wall then disappearing. In that moment, the version of me in the dream thought, "I should have brought my firearm." Next, I slowly noticed that one-by-one several of the people with me had vanished until there were only four of them left. I convince those remaining to go back across the road and into the house (which happened to be my Grandma's house now). As we crossed the street, the others became distracted by a pale cream ghost that began floating down the road. I saw it too but kept walking towards the house assuming the others were behind me. By the time I reached the door, twisted the handle and looked back, I realized that I was the only one left. The shock of that woke me.

AI Interpretation - Dreams like this tend to be emotional metaphors wearing horror‑movie costumes. What you described has a very coherent emotional structure once you peel back the imagery. Let me walk you through it in a way that keeps the symbolism grounded and not mystical.

Watching the movie suggests you have been observing a stressful or confusing situation that feels out of your control. There could be something in your waking life that feels unpredictable.

The old camera and missing film chip point to searching for clarity or feels like something is missing. You want to "see" it more clearly but can't access it yet.

A wheat field and distant storms often symbolize vulnerability, cycles (growth, harvest, endings) or an anticipated emotional upheaval.

Interestingly, the drifting ghosts were not attacking. They simply moved past. They could symbolize old fears, mental clutter, or signals of overwhelm that you and others could be experiencing rather than direct threats. As people focused on them, they became distracted. And once they were distracted, they disappeared.

Thinking you should have had your firearm is symbolic of wanting protection and control. Likely not about having your literal weapon but wanting to feel prepared and protected.

People disappearing seems to reflect a fear that support is thinning or that you’re being left to handle things alone. This doesn't mean anyone in your life is abandoning you but more about concern you may be feeling of being the last one standing.

Homes and doors often represent safety and the relief of reaching a place of grounding, even if you arrive alone. You tried to lead others back to safety, but they got distracted. This could represent you often trying to be the responsible one guiding and protecting others - however ultimately you can't control their choices or what pulls their attention.

Things to reflect on:

This dream reads like an emotional snapshot. In your waking life, something feels uncertain, possibly stressful. You’re trying to stay grounded and be responsible. Your mind could be trying to get clarity (the camera), prepare yourself (the firearm), and move yourself and others toward safety (the house), but you seem to be feeling concern that you will find yourself alone. Practically, gentle self‑care may help—hydrate, cool down, rest, and name the feeling so it loses its grip. The dream isn’t a warning; it’s your mind processing stress and moving toward safety.

If you have read this far and take anything from my story and dream, let it be this. Our minds have their own way of sorting through stress, and sometimes the imagery looks far stranger than the feeling underneath. What matters is paying attention to what rises up, even when it comes wrapped in shadows. 

What Remains at Midnight.

Readers know that I decided to try a “princess of the month” theme in my Gilded Scriptoria planner for this year. On paper, it made sense. I love the royal, elevated feel of this planner, and I’ve done character based themes before (Pride and Prejudice, Lord of the Rings) and absolutely loved them. So I assumed this would be the same.

But it hasn’t been.

Last month I spent time with Cinderella. I watched the Disney version, read the retelling Cinder, and tried to settle into the theme. It was fine, but not a story I naturally connect with. And now April is dedicated to Jasmine from Aladdin, but I didn’t enjoy Arabian Nights and I’m not in the mood for the movie either. I keep bumping into the same feeling: I’m trying to pull inspiration from characters, but they aren’t inspiring me right now.

And that’s okay. This is the part I’m paying attention to.

I don’t want to change the theme mid‑year because I like to finish what I start. And I still love my Gilded Scriptoria itself and the activities that lean into feeling royal and intentional. It’s the princess layer that isn’t landing for me.

What I did take from Cinderella, though, was one small detail: the glass slippers stayed when everything else fell away. The dress vanished, the carriage crumbled, the magic dissolved but the slippers remained as a reminder of who she already was.

That’s the part that feels true for me right now. Not the princess. Not the story line. Just the realization of what remained at midnight.

And as I sit with that image, I’m realizing that my planner is the glass slipper. The princess theme may not be working, but the essence of the planner is fantastic. It is what makes me slow down, try new activities, and record memories.

So I’m letting this season unfold as it is. I’ll finish the year with the theme I chose, but I’m releasing my expectation that it has to inspire me every month. I'll let the important things stay while the non-essential can fall away at midnight. Being honest about all this feels important to share because I want to honor what is true...not every month is magical.

For Debbie Debbie

Debbie with the joyful, quirky spark I adore.

I opened the text this morning at 5:30am. 

"Mama. Hey sweetie we lost her. She loved you so much! I will keep in touch about the memorial. Big hugs from me and my mom." 

This message was from her lovely daughter Jessica. She had messaged me often over the past year or so with updates on my friend Debbie.

I met Debbie Murray around 2009'ish at the UNT Health Science Center, and from the very beginning she was one of those people I just… clicked with. We had several Debbies in our office but she was the original. So when someone would ask me which Debbie I was talking about I’d say, “you know… Debbie Debbie.” It rolled out of my mouth once and stuck forever. She always embraced my affectionate little nickname for her. Eventually, even my kids, family, and friends began to know her by this nickname.

Our birthdays are only one day apart, which we treated like a tiny private holiday. I was 35 when I met her. We were from different generations but our friendship felt completely natural. That was one of my favorite things about her. Some people make you forget age differences entirely. Debbie was one of those rare souls who could connect across any gap with people she met.

She had this wonderfully quirky sense of humor. She was a collector of unusual and unfortunate names the way other people collect seashells. The first time she plopped a list of them in my hand, we'd laugh until we had tears in our eyes. I wish I could share some but those poor humans had names that were wildly inappropriate. Ha. Anyway, she had a way of finding the odd, delightful corners of life and turning them into stories worth retelling.

Her years as a prospect researcher gave her a whole library of stories about people, and she told them with warmth and curiosity. People and their stories were ALWAYS important in her work in fundraising. Even when I started digging into my own ancestry she gave me great advice. I think she’d smile knowing I’ve put this out into the world for someone to find someday. She loved discovering little pieces of other people’s stories, and now this is a piece of hers. It just feels right. 

Debbie spoke so fondly of her daughters and of her family. One of her last Facebook messages to me, unknowing that it would be her last, was about Nicki and her ‘great‑grands.’ She often posted memorials for those she'd lost and missed. Family was at the center of her heart. I could hear the love in her voice every time she talked about them. And I'm honored that she extended a similar steady affection to me as I built my own family through adoption and a later‑in‑life marriage. She cheered me on, supported me, and reminded me I wasn’t doing any of life alone.

One year, we went together to the "Empty Bowls" event in Fort Worth to support the Tarrant County Food Bank. I still have my bowl...it holds our coffee filters at home. That photo is below. She also supported St. Jude heavily and causes for people who were hurting and in need among us. And she supported local animal shelters. I even went once with her to the Humane Society when she was looking for a new, older shelter pup. I almost went home with a 3-legged dog myself, named Ilean! Ha. Thinking of Debbie Debbie brings these scriptures to mind:

Proverbs 17:22 + Galatians 6:2  “A cheerful heart is good medicine... Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”

Over these years, we sent each other funny texts, Facebook messages, and encouragement. The last time I hugged her neck was in a hospital room in Fort Worth before she moved back to South Texas to be closer to her family. I lived over two hours away at that point but took PTO so we could have that moment.

I miss her already. I love her. But as I get all weepy I can hear her in my head telling me not to cry too hard. She’d want me to remember her with laughter and happiness, not get swallowed up in my grief. So like I do with all my friends who have gone ahead before me, I have decided to carry a little of her joyful, edgy humor forward into my own life.

Seventeen years of friendship is no small thing. It changes you. It stays with you. 

Debbie would have been 75 on March 1st. So I’ll keep celebrating our almost‑shared birthday, because some connections really don’t end. They just shift into a different kind of presence.

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My photos are from an ancient cell phone so they are small and blurry but I treasure them. 

Campus Pride work event

At a Gala event - when we both smile our eyes disappear. LOL

Empty Bowls event - here's us trying to keep our smiling eyes open. ha <3

 

Rest well, my friend.  

Dream: The Storm, the Woods, and the Choice I Didn’t Expect

Recently, I had a dream about a great storm approaching. Several people and I took shelter in what seemed to be a cozy restaurant, and no one panicked. When the storm arrived, I was lifted about a half mile into the air. It wasn’t frightening but just calm and a bit confusing. Oddly, I didn’t feel alone for my own sake but did feel empathy for others who weren’t lifted. The weather wasn’t severe, just overcast with rain or soft snow balls falling but those didn't touch me. There was a woodsy environment below me. I continued to look around for others but saw no one.

While in the air, I was given an unusual choice: to continue life as a dog. I chose to go ahead, curious about experiencing the world through a new perspective. In the dream, I was excited about getting a double lifetime and fascinated by how being smaller made the world seem bigger and more fantastical. There was no true sense of who offered me this choice, and I remember reasoning with someone human about why I chose to keep going. 

When I woke up, I found the dream thought-provoking, especially the idea of a second life as a dog. It wasn’t something I would consciously wish for because I think dogs have really hard lives. Yet in the dream, it felt like an exciting opportunity.

Curious about this dream, I plugged it in to ChatGPT and ask it for questions to help me delve deeper into what my subconscious could possibly be working through. You can give AI facts about yourself and your life so that it builds those considerations into its responses. For example, this is how it knew my faith and that I'm a prepper. I found this insightful and deep. If you ever have a weird dream, don't just blow it off. Instead, consider using an AI tool for some introspection.❤️

"The Great Storm: Navigating Change and Uncertainty

The storm in your dream seems to parallel your concerns about political and financial instability, as well as the uncertainty of returning to campus full-time. The calmness you felt during the storm suggests that, while you're aware of these challenges, you're in a mindset of preparation and resilience rather than panic. As a prepper, you’re already working to mitigate the "unknowns," which explains why the storm didn’t feel chaotic or terrifying—it’s a familiar mental space for you.

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Being Lifted: A Shift in Perspective and Trust

Your calmness while being lifted reflects a sense of surrender or trust—perhaps connected to your increased time with God and prayers for protection. The environment, with its cloudy skies and woodsy setting, might symbolize a blend of uncertainty (clouds) and natural stability (woods). The lifting seems to be a transition moment—shifting you out of your usual frame of reference.

The absence of others, and your empathy for them not experiencing the same, might reflect how you view your preparedness or faith as something unique but also isolating. It’s not that you feel alone, but you recognize that not everyone around you shares your perspective or is prepared for challenges in the same way.

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Choosing a Dog’s Life: Simplicity vs. Dependence

The choice to live as a dog feels layered. On one hand, the smaller perspective and “grander” world could symbolize a desire to focus on the simple, beautiful details of life, stepping away from overwhelming responsibilities or the "big picture." On the other hand, your awake mind’s concern about a dog’s dependence and vulnerability suggests you might feel conflicted about accepting a simpler or more instinctual life—perhaps because you’ve always had to carry significant responsibilities.

The dream’s instinctual excitement about a "double lifetime" could stem from a desire for renewal or a fresh start, even if you’re not consciously craving change. It might be your subconscious exploring the possibility of living differently, unburdened by current stresses.

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Absence of Others and Companionship

Your empathy for those not being “lifted” aligns with your caring nature and the way you value connection. Even though you don’t feel alone in your waking life, this part of the dream may reflect a quiet sense of responsibility or concern for others—not wanting them to be left behind or unprepared. It might also reflect your role as the one providing for your household, shouldering responsibilities others don’

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Underlying Themes

1. Resilience Amid Uncertainty: The dream mirrors how you’re navigating life’s storms—steady, prepared, and leaning into faith and resourcefulness.

2. Perspective and Renewal: The lifting and choice of a new life might represent your subconscious exploring what it means to release control, embrace a new way of living, or focus on life’s smaller, more meaningful moments.

3. Responsibility and Dependence: The idea of being a dog—a life reliant on others—might symbolize a longing to let go of constant responsibility while grappling with the fear of being vulnerable or dependent.

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ChatGPT's final Thoughts:

This dream feels like a safe space your subconscious created to explore the tension between your desires and responsibilities. While awake, you’re focused on being prepared, responsible, and grounded, but your dream mind gave you a moment to imagine a freer, simpler existence. The dog’s life may not be about wanting to be a dog specifically but about the idea of living differently—closer to nature, instinct, and simplicity.

Your faith, preparation mindset, and empathy are clear throughout the dream. It may be nudging you to consider ways to "lift" yourself from stress by embracing simpler joys or trusting that not everything is solely on your shoulders. Even the storm, which didn’t harm you, might be a reminder that you’re capable of weathering whatever comes."

The Night I Scared Myself

The headlights appeared before the realization did. Two bright orbs aimed straight at me on a dark, unfamiliar two-lane country road, and my stomach plummeted as my mind tried to make sense of it.

"He's in my lane!" 

I flashed my lights. The car moved over. And with a deep sigh, I kept driving.

But a few minutes later, a scary fact hit me harder than the original fear.
 
I was the one in the wrong lane.

In fact, I shouldn't have been in either of them. As it turned out I had missed the crossover on a divided country road. There weren't just two lanes, there were four! Maybe it was the darkness, maybe fatigue, or maybe the simple fact that there were no signs marking the median and no other cars around at the time to give me a visual cue at night.

Instantly, I found a safe place to cross over. I thank Jesus I made it home that night.

But my mind did not follow me. Instead, it stayed on that country road replaying the worst angles of the moment: the fear, the mistake, the blaming internal voice saying, "how could I miss that?" My brain did not replay the part where I stayed calm, the moment I corrected course, or that everyone got home safely.

Reflecting now, it is wild how quickly we forget our competence and cling to our errors as if they are proof of something.

And this does not just happen on the road. We do this in every corner of our lives. Below are some examples:

• You botch a project’s first draft but rework it and deliver something stronger. (your brain jabs, "you should’ve done better the first time”) 

• You lock yourself out of the house but remember the spare key you hid months ago. (your brain jabs, “you weren’t paying attention”) 

• Your foot slips on a stair yet you catch the railing before you go down. (your brain jabs, “you’re so clumsy”) 

• Your left your wallet behind in your desk at lunch but you realize your digital ID can save the day. (your brain jabs, “you always forget things”) 

• You trip in public and turn it into accidental choreography that makes people smile. (your brain jabs, “you can be so embarrassing”) 

These examples are very human moments. They could feel like failures in the instant they happen and as your brain tries to figure out how to not let them happen again. However, each one also contains a success that matters more. Mistakes are not proof of incompetence. They are actually proof that you are human and capable of adjusting in real time.

And if a mistake is a moment, then your response is the story. And most of us are telling better stories than we realize!

So instead of falling into the “How could I do that,” blame game, try asking:

• What did I do well under stress?
• What helped me recover?
• What does this show about my ability to stay present?
• What strength showed up, even quietly?

I made a mistake, and yes, it was a serious one. But I saw it, corrected it, and got home. That was not failure. That was presence under pressure.

If a mistake is the spark, failure is letting the fire spread. Success is stamping out the flames. Both are possible conclusions, but our brains fixate on the error instead of the outcome. So the next time something goes wrong but you recover, watch for the cruel brain jabs and notice not just the slip, but the steadiness that followed. 

That is a part worth remembering.