My next post was going to be about aging, but I had a remarkable dream last night or early this morning and I thought I would share it with you.

January 14, 2018

It was a workday, but for some reason, I had to drive all the way in to San Francisco to pick something up. My destination was a type of Chinese 7-Eleven. As I strolled through the aisles, I realized that I had forgotten what I came here for. I figured if I strolled long enough, I would remember.

Eventually I came to a back door. I opened it and descended a long set of stairs or ramp that lead into a large, dark, cavernous enclosure. There were ramps or stairs leading up out of the enclosure at various points along its circumfrence.

As I approached one of these ramps, I could see that it lead to a downtown BART station. I took a mental note of it. I then chose another ramp, and as I ascended, I saw a woman descend the same ramp with slightly frustrated or disappointed look in her eyes. As I neared the top of the ramp, I could see why. For some inexplicable reason, I had been transported not only through space, but back in time. I was in a TWA lounge at San Francisco International Airport circa 1975. The lounge was completely empty and the furniture was brand new, completely devoid of dust or deterioration. I needed to get out of there, so I descended that ramp, quickly. I had decided that this “ramp exploring”, while fascinating, was diverting me from my original task. I attempted to backtrack my way back to the Chinese 7-Eleven, when I ended up in a most unusual bookstore.

As I ascended the ramp and opened the back door, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was, in fact, a bookstore, in the present day. As I picked up the books, however, I noticed that each of them had a glossy finish and seemed to be reflecting a face that was not mine. They eyes were too large and slightly slanted. The head was narrower. I picked up other items and they all reflected back the same face. This cannot be, I said to myself.

It was at that point when I woke up. I took a few deep breaths and made some coffee. I couldn’t shake the strange visions loose. What does it all mean? I then visited a good friend of mine, who I knew to be particularly gifted and insightful. After I had finished relating the dream to her, she said “Your true identity hasn’t been known up until now. You were sent here to protect a small extraterrestrial child named [unpronounceable] .” She drew a picture of the child, which had large, slanted eyes and a pig-like nose. I could feel the innocence and vulnerability of this child. I knew that my friend was correct. I then asked her why the strange reflections in the bookstore. She said, simply, “because you are, on some level, an extraterrestrial yourself.” The realization hit me, hard. I got back into my car and drove through a dark forest, ruminating about these new realities that were so suddenly thrust upon me.

I then woke up for real.


  1. “An extraterrestrial yourself?” I’m not quite sure what that means, but it doesn’t come across as positive to me. E.T. was an extraterrestrial, so maybe its a special person who lives and loves, laughs and cries. Someone with a huge heart. And Todd has a big heart.

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