Blue_Opossum

Morning of December 19, 2017. Tuesday.



This dream occurred during the time we had been trying to sleep, early in the morning, with the roofers having worked on our house in reality, but during their break and when we fell asleep.

In my dream, there is a scene where one of the roofers is actually in our house and I see that he is watching Zsuzsanna sleep. I am not lucid. This annoys me very much, but he soon leaves. Meanwhile, I notice strange features hanging from the ceiling, about three feet from the floor. There are four of them, defining a square’s vertices. They look like vertically flat objects, seemingly made of material such as vinyl, but with the look of a chest of drawers. I do not consider this feature strange even though most of my conscious self identity is extant.

Later, I am looking through our clerestory windows and see two roofers (each one’s face through a different window, the first and third from the left). A lot of black smoke is coming from the first roof tier to the left. Apparently, it is coming from a power tool, but I am vaguely considered that it may be toxic. The other male is looking on. Both look at us at times. This has the essence of a false awakening, and the roofers are starting to make noise in real life by this point.

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This is a typical intruder dream triggered by real environmental sounds and vaguely perceived “intruders” at the time. However, they did not actually come into our house or watch us through our clerestory windows, as this is just the RAS (reticular activating system) mode that functions as such when one is unconscious. (Understanding dreams is not difficult despite most people bizarrely having no clue as to what a dream actually is). I am not lucid in this particular case. Chase dreams are of the same nature, also rendered by way of RAS, which renders the personified preconscious to alert the dreamer into waking, because waking is a biological necessity. It is that simple. (Some people do have too much stress, though, and as such, would likely rather to continue to sleep, which RAS simply will not allow out of biological need.)

Additionally, looking through a window represents the waking space (that is, the liminal space between dreaming and waking). The black smoke (a real-time symbol) symbolizes the nature of being asleep (and has occurred in other dreams as such, including a few positive, even blissful dreams). The unusual hanging features likely relate to the fact I am not “on the ground”. That is, it is a dream state indicator similar to that of “The Hanging Doll” in that it symbolizes my physical body being in bed, though is also linked to my dream’s distorted perception of the four roofers, and their temporary status of being on our home’s roof (as four “floating chests” that have very limited storage for “a longer stay”). I have always found it utterly bizarre that people do not seem to understand that what is going on in a dream is based on being in the dream state itself. How could so many people not be aware of something so obvious?

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The roofers in real life extended and built over our second-tiered roof (pretty much destroying the purpose of a clerestory roof) so that it now blocks the clerestory windows and only ugly rafters are visible. One even said he would come around and board them up from inside. Zsuzsanna told him no, but for people to even do things like this and suggest things like this means that something is apparently “missing” from their mind, an inability to think or understand anything (too much alcohol perhaps? In the DNA?). Zsuzsanna and I have conversations often about what is “missing” from so-called normal people.

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Morning of March 4, 2017. Saturday.



I am on the Loomis Street porch and there are soon a number of unfamiliar people, most of whom are closer to the porch door. We are on the north end of the porch. There is a point at which one of the others talks about smoking. There are a few different types of plants in small transparent plastic bags and I am not certain if some are meant to contain marijuana or tobacco but I assume they may have marijuana. I also have a braided section of sweetgrass. I light it and deliberately breathe in the smoke for some reason.

An unknown girl wants me to roll a cigarette and seems to think I have better tobacco or marijuana than her. I tell her that I do not have any papers. After a pause, I ask her if I can use one of hers. I go over and see that there is a large sheet of thin paper she has on her lap (which is atop a book), a little bigger than a sheet of notebook paper. It seems unlikely that someone would roll such a large cigarette. I reason that doing so would require a number of folds before rolling. I ask her if I should use only half the paper by tearing it across the width and she says no with a tone of annoyance in her voice.

I take it to the other side of the porch (the right of the living room entrance) and put it on top of a closed turntable that is sitting on a high-set table. I then ask her if she wants to do it. She gets up, seemingly somewhat annoyed. She takes out a large plastic bag and begins to drop a large amount of dried leaves on the paper. Pieces are falling everywhere, much of it outside of the paper. My dream becomes a little more vivid at this point.

My mother (appearing for the first time in this dream) looks out through the doorway as if puzzled by what is going on and asks her what she is doing. I also ask her what she is doing since I get the impression she is wasting much of it as only some is going onto the paper, much of it going over the table and floor.

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Understanding dream dynamics:

• Although my mother was the one to wake me to get up for school for so many years, she does not usually appear as the emergent consciousness factor (or even the preconscious) in the final moments of a dream (threshold dream type - that is, when the waking metaphor is rendered as someone or something appearing in a doorway).
• The porch setting is usually only rendered at a specific level of consciousness in the final dream of a sleep cycle, as it links to a specific form of liminal space (both in dreams and in reality). This has been the case since early childhood.
• There have been a number of other dreams where smoke has appeared on a porch (not always the same source). Although smoke is a coalescence factor, it seems a no-brainer that it is associated with fire (which represents neuronal activity).
• Doing something in a dream that one would not do in real life is evidence of instinctual dreaming (and non-lucid dream control). (For example, I would never associate with drug users in real life.)

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Morning of December 19, 2015. Saturday.



In my very vivid dream, my family and I are back living on Barolin Street (the large house no longer there in reality, having been moved). It seems to be late at night and I am on our front porch with a young version of my brother Earl (deceased) and his last wife Cindy. I am nearest the front entrance, Cindy being to my right, and Earl being to her right. We are all seated on small kitchen chairs. My brother and his wife are facing an electronics setup though I am more to the side of it, what is seemingly a cassette deck to record their conversation and possibly singing. This cassette deck is sitting on a larger feature, which is some sort of computer. There is also apparently a radio. (This is probably associated with a recording which Earl and his first wife Beverly created at North Monroe Street in 1967 with a guitarist of the region, Don Keys, including their singing and his own double-tracked guitar parts on reel-to-reel, which was transferred to cassette copies.) This is where I had a setup in real life prior to our moving, though not exactly as in my dream.

Over time, the face of the vertical-load cassette deck seems detached and loose and is out by about half an inch. I also notice that the front of the computer tower is slightly protruding with a gap. Eventually, I feel a bit of heat and smoke begins to come out.

There is a temporary strange shifting of the situation, like an offset dream within a dream but oddly just as vivid (without a seeming consciousness shift, which is atypical of dreams within dreams). I am then on the far right of the setup and my oldest son, seeming only about twelve years old again, is to my left. I am telling him that he should sit back from the smoke as the smoke seems possibly toxic if too much is breathed in, though at this point, it seems a “normal” part of the recording process and to be expected of the electronic equipment (even though in the main scenario it is not considered as such at all).

Then, I am shifted back into the previous scenario again, exactly the same as it was. I do not really pay any notice to my having shifted into the offset dream but continue trying to work out what is going on with the equipment. The smoke is not that thick but seems to annoy my brother and his wife and becomes more problematic. It mostly drifts northward through our porch.

My brother Earl shows me his wife’s bracelet, which had been sitting atop the cassette deck. “Look,” he says to me, “it’s melted”. He seems slightly annoyed but not angry. His wife Cindy looks on without emotion.

I then notice that my black wallet (of synthetic plastic) had also been atop the cassette deck and has partly melted. It has even come apart into two sections, all of the contents having been singed. I am only slightly concerned. I am not sure if we will continue to work in a session regarding what we had been doing (recording from the radio or Earl singing with his wife).

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Because a cassette deck has two cylindrical rotating features (and especially being a machine), it is obvious now that it is a subtle metaphorical form of the Merkaba. Frankly, I cannot imagine how I have missed this all this time - talk about being “slow”. (In fact, this setting reflects when I experienced it the strongest when wide awake, complete with the intense cilia-like imagery. This also means that I will be able to get additional clues out of a number of past dreams that I had not fully decoded yet.)

The cassette deck being the (partnered) Merkaba is even more obvious with the additional elements which validate this likelihood. Firstly, the melted bracelet is that which symbolizes lack of bondage to something mundanely habitual; in other words, it augments spiritual freedom (or not being “chained” by society’s limited understanding and unrewarding material pursuits). (A melted bracelet equates a removed handcuff.) Secondly, the melted wallet means dynamic spiritual freedom in another way, in the sense of the melted identification card - that is, losing static and mundane associations with any previous presumed identity - or being free of non-dynamic restrictions caused by being “labelled” by either government or consensus or even a particular individual.

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In another way, it could also be a reminder of the ephemerality of the Merkaba. (Certainly, something melting does not always have this association. For example, I have two well-documented dreams of melted bicycles, both having been preceded by having a small amount of alcohol in real life. It is clear to me that, as a bicycle represents both cellular processes and the ability to define travel through “narrower paths” - as well as yet another form of the partnered Merkaba evidenced by the two rotating wheels - that alcohol interferes with cellular processes - “melting” or killing brain cells - and interferes with intended steering or desired direction as well as spiritual relationships.)

Smoke often represents real-time communications with consensus consciousness and (potential) changes of thinking in the dreamer (or the “burning” or dissolving of previous ideas or circumstances). In this case, aspects may be “toxic” because of the limiting nature of some levels of collective consciousness; that is, people who refuse to move on by holding labels over a person or circumstance; they are mentally “stuck” on one time period (or fixed memory) and one illusory facade without the ability to understand transience or natural change, as even rocks are transitory.

Why was my brother Earl rendered in this situation? Since childhood, I always referred to him as the “doubting Thomas” of my family, so at one level, he is the “skeptic” within my consciousness.

Some people have the idea that “being free of restraint” (melted bracelet) and “losing invariable identification” (melted wallet) can only be of negative implications, when that depends on the circumstances. My experiences with the Merkaba tell me that something outside of myself is needed to balance my place in the universe (in other words, my soulmate). My wife Zsuzsanna and I had also made cassettes of our singing together, mostly when we lived on Gellibrand Street in Clayfield. There are sometimes many layers to consider in a particular dream, depending on its type. This one seems to have more actual meaning than usual (though not just because it was vivid and non-lucid).

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Morning of October 24, 2015. Saturday.



I am seemingly about sixteen years old again and back in Florida in my backyard in Cubitis. My mother (July 14, 1916-October 2, 2002) is in our house, in our living room. I am looking east at a rather narrow diagonal trail of black smoke that otherwise resembles the pattern of a contrail (though is touching the ground). Additionally, there is a thicker column of smoke rising up near a farmhouse, though the farmhouse itself appears to be mostly undamaged.

About three times, I try to get my mother’s attention as she is sitting near the open windows in the south area of the living room. I want her to understand that a missile came down in the distance. I drawl the word rather loudly, pronouncing it MISS-sigh-ul. Still, I am not sure of the circumstances as I do not recall seeing it hit, though I do expect another one soon, yet this does not occur at any point. I do not feel threatened or in danger; I just want to inform people of what is going on. I wait for signs of explosions in the distance.

Instead, a young male figure in black who is wearing a top hat walks from the area and eventually becomes more visible and discernible as he approaches our backyard. He is reminiscent of a young David Cassidy (but with the essence of a “dark magician”). He has a slightly menacing appearance. A narrow perfectly vertical tall column of black smoke rises from his top hat as he approaches (possibly a play on chimney pot hat or stove pipe hat).

Soon, the situation changes. I am in a mostly empty room (seemingly partly modeled after my father’s original room in Cubitis - but this is only a subtle impression) where there are two annoying male human heads attached to a long mostly horizontal stream of dark gray smoke. They seem aggressive and dominating. The faces are approaching me but I easily knock them back mentally (and with a hand motion) and “flatten” them. At one point, each is like a long series of two-dimensional cutouts of faces (somewhat caterpillar-like) that are thrown back onto the wall by my will, each expressing a slightly different visage of worried surprise.

Later, my dream becomes even more surreal. There are some sort of possibly alien beings (though they look human) attempting to control everyone in a town. However, I am able to mentally cause these threatening beings to hallucinate and perceive things in ways that cause them to fail in their intended conquest (including scampering chipmunks and menacing low-flying kites). This happens twice (possibly one is a dream “reset”). They do become aware of what I am doing but act as if they are curious about my ability rather than annoyed or angered. They leave with no success of even one attempt to conquer even one person.

Finally, a “bad” or demon-like male (though mostly of normal human appearance) is easily thrown out of an underground chamber by a slight focus of my will and “replaced” by a (unknown) dark-haired young girl with leather “letter X” patterns in her apparel (over chest, legs, and arms, somewhat shoelace-like). She is followed through the doorway to my right by small iridescent butterflies, some sort of abstract “creatures” crawling on the wall (which look like paired human fingers moving along somewhat beetle-like) and other small, bizarre, and surreal but living forms. I am aware of other benevolent entities coming to “take control” of all apparently negative realms, which then creates a youthful and pleasant energy everywhere. (More and more, I notice how dreams seem to color a person’s mood and level of energy.)

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Morning of August 15, 1967. Tuesday. (Daughter Amelia’s birthday in 1998.) Rough overhead “map” now included. Confusion stems from the fact that Amelia is supposedly in the airplane as well as on the ground with me (though on one level it may be her spirit on the ground with me rather than her implied physical form otherwise “duplicated” in the airplane) and we are facing away from the event even though it is also “clear” that we are watching it somehow.



I dreamt of being in my yard with Amelia Earhart. This is in the southern part of my yard at North Monroe Street in Florida. We are facing directly to the south even though the plane seems to need to be viewed north of us, but it seems as if I am (while disembodied) viewing the scene at one point from south of where I (physical form) am standing, my “real” incorporeal self looking northward and seeing myself (that is, my “real” incorporeal me - and my actual view - is facing the other dream-rendering of me in my physical form) and the plane is gong down to the left from my “real” view - yet she acknowledges this as if facing the event (rather than it being behind her as it is in my dream view). Amelia stands on my “other self’s” right. An old-fashioned Lockheed plane is going down diagonally in the sky as if in distress, with sparse smoke trailing behind it somewhat. I am somehow aware that she is my mother, even though I am informed by her that she is my daughter, which creates an intense puzzlement in the dream state, as it was also as if she was watching her own plane (with her own self in it) burning out and falling from the sky (with the likelihood of crashing somewhere in the distance). She is telling me how she crashed (or possibly only landed roughly without that much damage) on an island and something about the Japanese possibly shooting her down. There is an unusual mood that she may have been my “real mother” (possibly implied by the idea that on this date Will Rogers, a relative on my mother’s side, died in an airplane crash with Wiley Post, the first pilot to fly solo around the world and Amelia wanted to be the first woman to do this). Near the end, the imagery of Amelia and myself takes on a sort of grainy monotone appearance.

In real life, before we met, Zsuzsanna and I had decided our first daughter (if we had one) would be called “Amelia”, but not because of my dream (and it was in fact the name Zsuzsanna already chose and gave me over the telephone before she knew of “my” Amelia and dream history). At any rate, the August 15th marker regarding the foreshadowing of my daughter’s birth exists every year from earliest childhood up to the time she was born, as do most precognitive markers and is something I have never seen other people honestly address (other than with shortsighted denial and no viable understanding of dreams).

For a closer look at this dream and its real (native) meaning (as well as lifelong markers that many dreams have as well as unexplainable synchronicity related in the next paragraph), it is a very basic and very common (for me) “failed flight” waking transition; that is, something falling from the sky as representing the dreamer waking up (a subtle variation of the primary biological waking mechanism sometimes inclusive of a falling sensation and a hypnic jerk). The airplane (which most often represents a deeper potential of the dream state) is on fire because fire also represents light of day and dawning consciousness in this case. “Failed flight” does not typically mean anything negative as it simply means naturally waking from the “flight” (and “displacement”) of a dream (and this same waking transition can be seen in tens of thousands of other dreams, including those with meteors which is directly analogous to this dream’s content as well).

Additional layers and long-term markers: Wiley Post and Will Rogers (my mother’s cousin) died on this date in a plane crash (and information on my family connections, father as well as mother, can be found in books such as “The Papers of Will Rogers: From vaudeville to Broadway” and “Cowgirls of the Rodeo”). That does not invalidate the synchronicity with our daughter’s birth date; in fact, it confirms it since there are over fifty other date-relevant markers for her birth, most prior to my meeting Zsuzsanna.