Morning of June 1, 1998. Monday. Reading time: 1 min 52 sec. Readability score: 52. Deliberately stepping into the dream space, I find it is a comfortably dark room that has walls, floor, and ceiling of gray stone. I am unaware of the presence of a door or doorway. What I first think is an Egyptian sarcophagus is present in the center of the room. It is mainly rectangular and lacking detail. In semi-lucidity, I realize it is a representation of the fact that I am asleep in bed. Moving closer, I see that the lid of the sarcophagus is like a stained glass window of a Christian church, although it portrays an unknown British king rather than a religious scene, the imagery of which resembles the king of diamonds in a deck of cards. A yellow light is discernible from under, shining through its semi-transparent sections despite the multi-colored stained glass, and I fall into it (deliberately, leaning forward) without fear, cracking it open and immediately being “back” in bed. Explanatory notes on dream modeling and processing: My physical body is asleep in bed, not moving, and that is the foundation (and trigger) of the rendering of the sarcophagus. I am aware of the cause while in my dream aside from the fact its foundation is semi-lucidly scripted. (In “Stargate,” the sarcophagus is used to restore the physical body to full health and that was my original intent here.) The details mainly stem from associations with two Alan Parsons Project albums, “Pyramid” and “Turn of a Friendly Card.” (On the cover of “Pyramid,” Alan Parsons is sitting up in bed in a room with an orange and yellow glow. “Turn of a Friendly Card” features the king of diamonds in stained glass.) The color yellow is a factor I have used all my life (in both infra-awareness and lucidity) to initiate emerging consciousness and dream state revivification. It is not a factor of absolute dream control in every case (only RAS mediation, which is unpredictable due to ultradian rhythm peaks and lows) and is typically more likely to bring about waking and preconscious manifestation than intended reinduction. Deliberately leaning and falling forward, or jumping from a window or cliff is a method I have used since childhood to intensify and sustain a dream, though it does not always work as it occasionally triggers VSC RAS modulation. In contrast, the breaking window is a metaphor for dream state cessation as in the 1971 TV movie, “The Deadly Dream.” Notes added Friday, 17 August 2018. As of this date, creating a large locked steel bank vault door that replaces the front door of a house, and rapidly flying towards it from a bedroom (to phase through it into whatever is beyond in the front yard) with total faith and confidence, is the most viable way I have found to vivify and sustain the dream state.
Morning of May 8, 2018. Tuesday. I allow the awareness of my physical body to become autosymbolic in the rendering of a silver van. I recognize the essence of water as dream state induction, the gentle beautiful rain splashing lightly on me at times from my left through the open window of the van. The van is driving itself without incident even though I am behind the steering wheel. Zsuzsanna is to my right in this dream (and I am sleeping more down on my stomach, so she is to my right side in reality, though I most often sleep on my left side). The van was meant to move through rain, which is the essence of well-being and healing factors, the brain and heart about 73% water at that. We go through a sparse forest of young trees; the trees on each side pass by in both directions. I do not reflect much upon such impossibility. We phase through a chain-link fence. I enjoy going down the escalator of Hinkler in the van, with brief puzzlement of what may or may not be a car wash as we go elsewhere. Other people are walking around, shopping. Miniature cars drive above me, on the ceiling, upside-down, their headlights creating a harmonious awareness. The van drives itself through a hall in an unknown building that is just big enough for it to move through. Then in a more augmented vestibular awareness, we fly far above a lake near early evening. Rain upon me in the dream state is so pleasing. Whatever vehicle my body becomes auto symbolically, car, van, airplane, boat, there is still flight potential.
Morning of March 1, 2017. Wednesday. I am sitting in an armchair. I recall that there had been cheerful interaction with my family at a previous point. However, the setting firstly seems to be my Cubitis bedroom. The armchair is against the west wall, at the south end of my room (where no armchair had ever been in real life). My room is somewhat dark. I begin to hear, seemingly from just outside the window, some sort of very unusual sound, almost like an electronic squeak (actually caused by subliminal awareness of a real environmental sound). I hear it a few times and eventually realize that it is someone in the front yard who is not supposed to be there. I leave my room and walk around to the front of the house through the living room to possibly catch the imposer. At this point, it is still seemingly modeled mostly after the Cubitis house. However, when I open the front door, the area is completely different and unfamiliar, though my dream self does not register it as such (as I erroneously “recognize” it as our present address). Contrary to the implied Cubitis setting, there is no carport. There is no driveway or highway beyond. Instead, there is a huge front yard, mostly with very tall grass other than where it is short from about ten feet out from the front of the house. It now seems to be morning and I notice a beautiful blue sky. I see a young unfamiliar male running through the front yard from my left (from where the noise was likely coming from). He seems to be very amused. He keeps running to the northwest, where there are more houses in both northerly rows and westerly rows. The house I am in seems somewhat isolated (mostly due to the huge front yard). I yell at him saying that I have weapons. He keeps running but I do not even think about chasing after him even though he seems to think I might while maintaining his seemingly cheerful countenance. Looking at the front yard at the tall grass that is farther out, I also notice a clear path of short grass that goes for a very long distance. I feel very cheerful and even lucky about this feature even though I am annoyed by the idea of having to mow the rest of the yard on each side of the long path. I reason that grass does not grow much over all the old established paths. In the distance is also a beautiful mountain. The waking transition is atypical here, though the first prompt (preconscious running off to my right) still oriented to my right as it most often is. It is atypical for the personified preconscious to run off rather than more directly initiate the waking dynamics. The path through the tall grass is a clue, especially regarding my clarity of it at this point (even though I remain in the doorway until waking, which is in itself a waking event as a door represents a potential shift in consciousness and often serves as the exit point of a dream). A mountain represents subliminal focus on the conscious self and the goal of waking from sleep. Still, had I stepped out from the doorway, this might have induced a lucid state as has occurred in many previous dreams.
Morning of November 5, 2013. Tuesday. I am in either St. Martin (relating to the Jimmy Buffet song “The Night I Painted The Sky”) or perhaps Brisbane in South Bank Parklands in another time, in the past, on Cracker Night, but which in real life no longer occurs due to health and safety issue. The first part of the Jimmy Buffet song goes, “I came from the north, Escaping convention, modern invention that won’t let me be, to the shores of St. Martin, with my fiction addiction, to restart the fire, a dreamer’s remedy”. The fireworks are bright but mostly hues of blue, white, and turquoise. Several times, they form a butterfly pattern, with sparks going out from the center, a pale glow forming the body, and two additional “rockets” streaking upwards near the top. This is apparently also an actual real-life event which I have not ever actually seen anywhere. I hear, seemingly from distant speakers, the original Bob Lind version of “Elusive Butterfly”, or at least I think I do. The song is a rare treasure in a world of mostly noise and meandering negativity. Even though it seems like a big event, only a few people seem to be in the immediate area, mostly couples. Still - there is loud yelling and cheering that seems to be coming from somewhere else. A man runs past me to my left, at least one larger spark falling behind him onto the ground. He seems a bit nervous. A mysterious girl, mostly of shadow, is at a fair distance, but still partially discernible. She appears to be near a refreshment stand. After a time, more sparks are falling, now and then, causing sizzling sounds to occur in a few locations but no impression of danger. The sparks that are falling are not sparks, but glowing beads. Apparently it is not true fireworks, but someone shooting small glowing beads into the air, seemingly from a boat halfway across the river. They must be magnetic, as they seem to either roll towards each other or move away from each other once they hit the ground. Other people appear and beads hit them now and then, but nothing dramatic happens. Eventually, the girl in shadow comes out and the beads start sticking to her dark blouse, forming a beautiful, glowing mosaic-like image (still of mostly blues, white, and turquoise). It makes a three-dimensional network of circulatory-like light and the wings move. Only one person (another girl in a small group) notices and says “oh, look at that”, pointing, but no one else notices, so they soon all walk off elsewhere. I am still aware of some fireworks in the sky, which is starting to make a buzzing hum rather than a crackling. One man still stands around looking a bit puzzled. “Oh, that’s my wife,” I say, walking to the “shadow girl”, and it is. Suddenly, a magnetic field visibly forms along the same trajectory as the falling sparks from the fireworks. However, it becomes very difficult to tell the difference between the “butterfly” and the magnetic field, even in what seems to be some sort of growing rhythmic movement that makes me feel very peaceful and comfortable. I sense youthful laughter and cheerfulness from a fair distance.
Morning of August 28, 1971. Saturday. I discover a seemingly prehistoric coral-like “garden” underground that I had dug out from our front yard and put in shallower cardboard boxes and tried to maintain in a few different areas of my room, mostly on my tables and dressers (perhaps one or more on my floor). These “plants” (including supposedly prehistoric sea fans) are all of various colors (each one only of one color), including Pepto Bismol pink (fairly common in childhood dreams), bright glowing yellows, and that brighter glow-in-the-dark green used most often for certain toy surprises in cereal. My prehistoric garden seems very special; beautiful and nostalgic for reasons I am not sure of. Each type of plant has its own specific color. There is also a purple one that sort of looks somewhat lightning-shaped, with a bumpy surface as well as orange sponge-like “rocks” but of which may grow larger over time. Some “plants” are more rock-like, sponge-like, or fern-like than others and some glow more than others (the purple ones glowing the least, the green ones the brightest, I think - almost in the proportionate manner of glow-in-the-dark colors in real life). I am very glad to have these special plants in my room. They comfort me and radiate a sense of peace. This is an interesting situation and one of my most comforting and deeply felt dreams of this time period. Coming from underground implies exploring more deeply into the unconscious realm or taking something (a gift) from the unconscious realm or perspective or mood of the unconscious self (the memories as such defining a more harmonious and joyful coalescence into whole consciousness), the “prehistoric garden” perhaps analogous to human DNA, yet the way the plants glow (and how they are stored - in plain cardboard boxes for the most part) implies the essence of the conscious self (and the light of day analogy). The light remains at a certain level however, which may be why my dream seems to last so long (seemingly all night), almost analogous to a reassuring nightlight.
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