Blue_Opossum

Friday, 18 October 2019

Reading time: 3 min 20 sec.



Here, I will explain the essential decoding of entries that will eventually include “bird resurrection” in the title. The original entries will remain in my online journal.

Something coming to life, reviving, or waking from sleep in the last part of a dream is simply the subliminal, liminal, or supraliminal anticipatory autosymbolism of waking up, the preconscious precursor of gaining control of the physical body and the emergence of consciousness and valid personal identity. That is what most final dream segments include (more so with instinctual and lucid modulation), though with an infinite variety of content. Ultimately, the most common indicator of this process for me is a bird of any number of species from dream to dream.

The foundation of this process has occurred every sleep cycle since early childhood, though I have only thus far included some of the more interesting dreaming experiences online.

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Qebehsenuef Canopic Jar (October 18, 2019). A mummified parrot in an Egyptian falcon canopic jar (Qebehsenuef) comes to life, and the bird vibrates in my hands with pleasing sensations.

The most recent mental activity before this had been in slow-wave sleep (virtual mummification). I am lucidly modulating liminal space (anticipating the drop, but it does not occur). I had intestinal pain before (and during) sleep. (A Qebehsenuef canopic jar holds the intestines.) Note that any container typically represents how the dream self cannot arouse the physical body until consciousness emergence.

Decayed Fence and Strange Weather (July 7, 2015). At the end of this dream, Ava Gardner is in a lacey black dress. She is on the floor near a couch on her elbows, with her knees up. As I grab her heels, she transforms into a Tweety Bird foil balloon of about three feet in length. I strike it against the floor while holding the bottom edge, but it remains as it is. (It was similar to “Unconvincing Resurrection” from October 18, 2016, when I tried to resurrect a dream character from his skull in a bucket of water, but out came a novelty balloon with a skeleton print.)

That dream segment (the last part of a much longer dream) is probably more ridiculous than most other examples. Balloons and birds both correlate with drop anticipation, though balloons additionally relate to a subliminal, liminal, or supraliminal focus on breathing while sleeping.

One Quail into Three (September 26, 2014). There is a tall thin paper sack with a rectangular bottom that contains a sickly quail on its side. There is a vivid vibration as I hold the paper bag. Eventually, there are inexplicably three quail in it, two healthy, one sickly. Zsuzsanna is about to sell the sack of quail to an unknown woman who arrives at our door (lesser wall mediation with doorway waking autosymbolism). I wake as she talks to her.

That dream indicates the same process and with the same modulation as the first example, though instinctually rather than lucidly. However, enigmatic space (not a dreaming process) also became a factor here. Years later, in real life, our oldest daughter took an interest in raising quail (with Zsuzsanna helping her). When selling a few in town, the buyer complained about one of them being unhealthy, though it was not; it only had one feather out of place. Thus, my dream’s scenario was also literal, but years before real-life correlation. (One quail of a small hatching as here died in another instance.)

Baby Bird (May 4, 2014). We have a baby bird (possibly a wild finch) that fell out of its nest and is living inside my makeshift terrarium outside. It is weak and sickly, seemingly injured. By feeding it small pieces of rubber cut from a bicycle inner tube, it grows and becomes healthier in a short time. Later, after feeding it potato chips, it ceases to exist.

That dream might seem bizarre to people who do not understand the co-occurrence of dreaming and waking processes. Bicycles are a more grounded form of vestibular correlation anticipation than flight is (with less expectation of the drop), so this is instinctual modulation to correlate emerging physical preparedness as much dream content is. Next, come potato chips. As they crumble easily, I associate them with the dream state losing cohesion (and the bird and anticipatory factors dissipate as a result).

The Hummingbird Power (January 2, 2007). In this dream, a hummingbird had gotten into our house, and I do not want it to become weak over time or injure itself. Holding it creates an extreme sense of compressed weight as well as pleasing powerful vibrations. Although it seems to have gotten squashed when I absentmindedly close our front door, it seems invulnerable and flies back into our house for a time.

Ceramic Chicken (from 1963) is one of my oldest validated dreams from before I could write. A statue coming to life is the anticipation of waking (cortical arousal).

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Hopefully, this entry should serve as a partial foundation for idiot-proofing my online dream journal when it comes to this type of content.

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Morning of September 15, 2017. Friday.



I am in a library that is not very well-defined and in fact seems to be “blank” on two sides. I am with two unfamiliar people, a younger male and younger female. They seem puzzled about where they are. A door is partly open behind us.

An unfamiliar older male appears in front of us (though more as if there the whole time). He makes a remark about “holding the door” so that we can leave the dream (though I am not fully lucid). “This is the waking transition,” he says. “Only this and nothing more.” (This is a line from Edgar Allan Poe’s poem “The Raven”.)

Four miniature birds quickly protrude from between his lips. The little birds are in a two by two arrangement (that is, two rows of two). I recognize the one on the upper left as a miniature blue crowned pigeon. (All four exotic birds are of a different species.) The impression is created that the man’s “tongue” (somehow made of the four birds) is pointing to the door on the opposite side of the room to show us the way out.

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Despite my waking symbolism being of the same basic patterns for over fifty years, it is always quite different in how it is specifically rendered. This dream combines doorway waking symbolism (of the threshold type - meaning threshold of real-time level of consciousness) with return flight waking symbolism.

Doorway waking symbolism is when RAS designates the potential exit point of the dream state as a doorway. (The reticular activating system or RAS is a set of connected nuclei that is responsible for regulating wakefulness and sleep-wake transition and is behind the formation of waking symbolism as such, often in my case by way of the personified preconscious, which is usually unrelated to real life, other than sometimes triggered by environmental noise or change in perceived light through the veil of sleep, but in my case, often linked to the transpersonal Source with prescience.)

Return flight waking symbolism (inherent to the dream state itself based on being unconscious - even used as such in comic strips and movies by showing birds flying around someone’s head when knocked out) occurs in over twenty percent of my non-lucid dreams, and has for over fifty years. This is also based on RAS due to the biological dynamics of the inner ear often triggering a falling sensation upon the return to wakeful consciousness. This is automatically unconsciously associated with birds, airplanes, flying under one’s own power, UFOs, and other flight symbols.

A library typically represents having more of the conscious self identity present within the dream state (due to the growing neural energy required to read and better understand text).

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Morning of April 26, 2017. Wednesday.



There were previous scenes at a different level of consciousness, but I more vividly find myself walking in an unfamiliar area. It seems as if it might be some sort of low-set bridge. I am not focused on where I am going. It may be to the shopping mall. There are no buildings around. There is a large expanse of water to my left. It is daylight out though I am not sure of the implied time. It may be morning.

Eventually, I notice one other person about half-a-block’s distance ahead of me. Getting closer, I see that it is my wife Zsuzsanna’s sister Judy. She seems wary at first, until she realizes who I am, but keeps walking.

My attention falls on the water. There are a large number of birds that are mostly all the same, mostly a mix of dark gray, black, white, and blue. Some of them are on the surface of the water, somewhat duck-like (though I am not sure what kind of a bird they are). About an equal number of birds, I can see under the water, their heads upward just to the underside of the surface. This imagery continues as I walk at least the equivalent of two city blocks. I find it curious, even somewhat peculiar, but it is a beautiful scene. The birds under the water do not move that much but may be feeding on the same food source that the birds above the water are looking for or eating. Thus, there is a vague sense of ambiguity.

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This is a curious liminal space transition (especially as I seem to be walking on some sort of bridge) that mixes water induction (with subliminal awareness of being asleep) and the anticipatory (yet also subliminal) consciousness shift symbol (the birds). I find it interesting how nearly identical imagery seems to be rendered in each area of the water as I walk along.

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Morning of May 5, 2015. Tuesday.



There is some sort of small rectangular container (not that deep and perhaps large enough to store four to six stacks of playing cards) on a desk in our (last) house on Barolin Street which seems to be for commercial endeavors yet not directly connected with us in any way - which of course seems a bit odd in afterthought - as if a part of our house just incidentally happens to be open to the general public for no particular reason (sparsely recurring concept but more common over ten years ago). Supposedly, it is some sort of lottery where a person buys a card - which I think could cost as much as twenty dollars (or perhaps less) and apparently circles one word in each of three columns, such as “bill” or “beak” in one column, which I see fairly clearly - though it also seemingly has features like a scratch-off ticket. It seems the words you circle have something to do with exponentially increasing your winnings if only the right one is circled in each column. We do not make any kind of a profit for hosting this lottery as far as I know (and I am not sure who the setup actually belongs to), and no other person comes into our house to buy one of the cards at any point, so all in all, the scenario makes little sense. We actually “buy” a couple cards (I am not sure how the money transfers) and I look at them more closely but we do not win anything (yet) as far as I know. The front of the cards have different closeup bird scenes and the back has the scratch-off and circling area. The upper half of the back is yellow. The word-circling area is near the middle.

Later on, I start to think that we could just take some of the cards and see if they are winners (as there is no one else around to see what we are doing in our own home). At one point, I find a smaller series of cards under one stack that is slightly different and I start to think about why that is. These other cards are mostly the same in design but are a little thicker, have a glossier surface, and are orange on the upper half of the back instead of yellow. For a short time, I wonder if they are counterfeits (possibly made in China). However, it may also be that they are just a different run or later printing. Still, I only keep several of the other type to check for winning ones. (Here, I will mention that there is no in-dream back story or memory of how the lottery came to be set up in our home in this way, and the puzzle about the other type and where they came from is not solved.)

It eventually seems that about five or six of the cards we take (out of about a dozen or more) are winners, though a few are of only a smaller value. However, I then start to worry that they will know whether or not a person actually bought them by way of an automatic checking of some sort of identification code that is only recorded and stored when a card is legitimately purchased from the right source. I am not certain of this, but I start to think that I may not do this, thinking of putting them back. (This idea of just taking something that is already in our house though linked to a commercial business that is not related to us is something I vaguely recall dreaming of in the past, but not with the specifics at this time.)

Morning of April 13, 2014. Sunday.



In my dream, there are birds talking outside, but it does not seem that unusual at all (as parrots and other species do “talk” after all). These are possibly some sort of large parrot. They are in the trees on the opposite side of the street from our present home. It seems very important to write down the six or seven phrases they are speaking over a longer time period, but I forget most of the phrases except for one. This last one is “sung” in a sort of monotone, which is “Get a raven”, said with each syllable emphasized equally (and note that my family and I did look after a raven for a few weeks a few years ago). I tell my wife Zsuzsanna what the birds are saying (trying to imitate the “croaky” sound somewhat), but then I realize it seems rather strange to claim that birds are speaking English and thus get pulled out of my dream, forgetting what I felt was more interesting than that last phrase.

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I am adding the “dream journal synchronicity” tag (tumblr and a couple other sites that allow longer tags as such) because of this entry posted after mine: The Amazing Talking Birds

October 19th, 1968 - In real life, we had visited an old married couple that day. I did not record their names (would have to look at certain old letters which I do not have access to right now) and I personally only traveled there with my father (or remember it as such) one time, possibly connected to the Love family but I am not sure. I think the area was near or at Quail Hollow. At any rate, they had two small owls living in the eaves of their porch - they seemed to find two sections of a concrete block at the top of one section to be a good place to play peak-a-boo from. I thought it was kind of nice to have a pair of owls in one’s home. Looking back now, I do not recall what they themselves thought. I later dream of wandering alone at night through mostly shoulder-high grasses and cornfields (recurring as a younger child) and near an occasional tree. I seem to be focused on finding the owls. I mostly only see shadows and engage in “shadow-play” on a tree for a short time. (As stated before, I believe that one’s shadow in a dream represents their waking self, especially in lucid dreams - plenty of overwhelming evidence I had recorded for that.) I am fully lucid eventually, but still in a state of wandering about.

This brings me to the now. (November 11, 2013. Monday) A large number of sandpipers and curlews gather in a dance of life. It is almost like a ritual. They give tribute to the predators in awe of their power perhaps, but they do it out of a genuine natural instinctive rhythm of a sort, not just as a sacrifice to the naturally more-intelligent, more-powerful hunter-type nor as a consuming fear they may be eaten. This seems to create a harmony of sorts, a temporary truce with the “lower” curlew and sandpiper forms, but which all are needed in the “chain of life” so to speak.

There becomes a point where the timid curlews, when back to back in pairs, are completely safe. Dancing back to back, they fool the ones who seek them - to instigate harm to them - by appearing as a completely different form…the great horned owl…or perhaps a “new” creature even more mythical and mysterious.

UPDATE:

SEVEN BILLION people on the planet and only a very small handful with regular dream journals within the total of ALL the dream journal sites on the entire Internet. After I posted this one (also posted here: http://dreamcatcher.net/blueopossum/15096 )…

Two other people (out of the seven billion on the planet) posted owl-related dreams on that site (even the same kind in one, a great horned owl), shortly after my post (one being apparently pre-dated, as it appears after mine), both with photographic imagery:

http://dreamcatcher.net/ixchel/15104

http://dreamcatcher.net/meghan_oona/15110

You can tell by the number in the URL how close together these were posted and both after mine.

Morning of July 27, 1996. Saturday.



In my dream, I own some sort of large unusual aquarium (similar to the one my brother had in real life in La Crosse at one time). My mother and oldest sister Marilyn are present in addition to my wife Zsuzsanna. After a time, an unexplainable event occurs. There is some sort of miniature “storm” or whirlpool-like event in the aquarium that is apparently being caused by some sort of unknown event occurring elsewhere (and from where, is unknown).

There is one fish in the aquarium (I am uncertain of the species) and this fish swims at an angle as far away from the turbulent water as possible. The fish remains uninjured and apparently safe thus far.

After time passes, though, the aquarium falls apart and all the water flows out (waking point). There are no longer any fish, but there are now two multicolored birds that seem to be male and female. They are either lorikeets or resplendent quetzals (or a composite of both). (My present guess in March 2015 is that they were quetzals, or composite of quetzal and hummingbird, as this is a recurring dream element for me).

The more dreams I review over a lifetime, the more the decoding comes out. Assuming these two birds were quetzals (though the entry image is of lorikeets), they would simply represent my wife and I as “ascended” on at least one in-dream level (looking back on my dream from “Soul’s Union of the Quetzal and the Silver Sebright Bantam” from March 30, 1986, where I have enhanced the imagery from that entry to be nearly identical to my dream).

That March 30th Easter dream always seemed like a metaphorical ascension type, and if such is the case, this dream probably relates the solitary fish as an isolated aspect of myself deliberately avoiding the union (or Merkaba) for whatever reason (likely as the fish is on its own), and that this July 27th dream touches this period to where we now have the birds to represent us at one level. It seems fairly straightforward and obvious at this point (August 9, 2015).

Morning of July 6, 1985. Saturday.



Probably one of the most unusual clearer dreams I have had involved thinking I had awakened (in a very vivid “realistic” false awakening), only to find myself in persistent sleep paralysis (where I believe I actually did open my eyes at times). A box of Kraft macaroni and cheese (single serving) danced around in the air, screaming “Eat me! Eat me!” in a rather high-pitched raspy voice and it was shaking about like a loud rattle in my ears and face.

I feel great discomfort yet also feel the mildly pleasant body-wide tingling. I try to cover my head but it does not work very well. It seems to torment me for several minutes. As I finally begin to wake more fully, I notice a smaller moving silver engraving (like a photographic negative) of a heron and a bittern dressed up like elderly gentlemen (though the birds incorrectly rendered as being around the same size), with one in a top hat and the other in a derby, and with canes and fancy shoes, in a position moving away from near my door (King Street boarding house - the L-shaped room), on a table. Although they are implied to be walking westward, the imagery mostly remains in one area, as if I am seeing it on some sort of implied projection (as if on an unseen television otherwise).

As soon as I woke up, I went into the kitchen and cooked and ate that last box of macaroni and cheese. (Well…what would you have done?) I was not “starving” but I had regularly been eating a lot less at the time. I do get a vague impression at one point that the birds may be coming back from “celebrating the Fourth of July” in a partial or subtle anthropomorphic manner.

I have finally decoded the macaroni and spaghetti symbolism, I believe. It relates directly to the energies of the human brain (as a bowl of cooked macaroni and cheese resembles the brain to some extent). The box (in its potential but not utilized form) was trying to get me to appreciate the nature of using my brain in my state of sleep paralysis and the two birds represented my conscious and subconscious finding freedom in “walking together”.

Morning of February 14, 1982. Sunday.



This is one of those “riding around in a car while relatives look for something” dreams, more common when I was much younger. I am with my brother-in-law Bob though at another point seem to be with someone else who is driving (possibly brother-in-law Mel and my sister Carol). I am in the back seat on the right side for the most part and my dream wavers between being alert and feeling a bit “off”.

There is a strong focus on finding a “bird cemetery” that takes up exactly one city block, or so it seems. However, over time, I get a very eerie feeling that something is not quite right. Time does not seem to pass normally as if I am living within some sort of looped or repeating situation. It does not come to my awareness at all that there are no bird cemeteries as such, and such an idea does not even seem strange to me in-dream. In fact, I get the impression that most bird cemeteries are probably a little bigger than many human cemeteries. At one point, it seems we pass the same bird cemetery several times (even though we do not make any turns, it seems) but do not stop because, for some reason, it is not the right one (the one we apparently are actually going to stop and visit). I see more and more bird cemeteries that seem similar or are somehow the “same” one and begin to recognize that there are hardly any other landmarks or areas with normal buildings (so that perhaps the “same” one-block bird cemetery is to be seen for three blocks in a row, that is, three instances of it). My uncomfortable awareness that I am stuck in some sort of “loop” remains until I wake as well as some sort of other unnamed but eerie association I cannot quite put words to (though my dream is too emotionless otherwise to be nightmarish).

This dream possibly came from (or was influenced by) the line “the mockingbird still singing o'er her grave”, as I get a vague impression that many of the birds are probably mockingbirds, shrikes, and starlings - this in turn possibly layered with the otherwise unrelated novel title “To Kill a Mockingbird”.

Update (July 2, 2015): I should probably add in this online entry that when I was very young, I very much thought that the line “the mockingbird still singing o'er her grave” was about the ghost of a mockingbird singing over her own grave. This is probably important regarding this particular dream’s distortion, as it was also a song my father sang (and he died on the fourteenth of February in 1979).

Morning of June 7, 1981. Sunday.



There is a great battle between a hummingbird and a mockingbird near a fence on the “edge of time” or near where nothing else exists, as if it means the fate of mankind. I hear a voice say “the hummingbird rivals the mockingbird”. It also appears in print like some sort of important adage.

This dream combines a couple unusual associations related to the “song” of both birds. There is an old joke about the hummingbird “humming” - “because it doesn’t know the words” and a mockingbird “mocks” the songs of other birds, apparently.

Additionally, there may be a play on “hummock” - a general geological term referring to a small knoll or mound above ground as a subtle link to a grave - or to human mortality.

Morning of August 1, 1965. Sunday.



This was a sparsely recurring early childhood dream. Like a lot of my early childhood dreams, I was not aware of my parents being in the immediate area (and I do not feel close to any implied family home) even though it seems very late at night. I do not really feel in danger or lost even though I am not sure of the area - probably La Crosse (possibly somewhere near Rose Street) or perhaps a part of Minnesota. I also feel quite a bit older in my dream for some reason, so perhaps I do not feel threatened as such.

The main idea is related to going near a closed used car lot (again, always very late at night). There is some confusion related to the strung pennants across two sides of the corner business. At one point, I am fairly certain that kites had been caught up in the area and entangled in the string with the pennants, especially the kite tails. In another version of this dream, there is a concern related to mostly small birds (swallows or sparrows?) somehow becoming entangled and an uncertainty of whether I am looking at hanging (dead) birds or the small pennants at any given time, which seem to be of an almost identical shape from some angles. The flapping sound (of the many pennants) at times makes me think that perhaps a live bird (or several live birds) is being trapped somewhere though I cannot see any live ones. No other person is ever around. The sound is not that frequent or discernible.