• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    Blue_Opossum

    1. Fallen Sky

      by , 09-05-2018 at 06:57 AM
      Morning of September 5, 2018. Wednesday.

      Reading time: 2 min 55 sec. Readability score: 69.



      In the first part of my dream, I non-lucidly get out of bed to go into a different room (indicating my subliminal awareness of being in the dream state). My discernment is ambiguous. I am aware of Zsuzsanna, but there also seem to be a few unknown people sleeping in the immediate area, yet I do not perceive them as intruders.

      My dream self perceives the unfamiliar setting as our present home. I am looking at a different bed in a well-lit room. Two Ragdoll cats are sleeping near its corner near where the walls meet. One is ours; the other belongs to Zsuzsanna’s sister. I think to myself that these cats are finally used to each other. The darker one gets up and moves to the opposite end of the bed.

      I notice my youngest daughter on the floor. She is only about one year old. At first, I am concerned. I go to her, but she seems okay. I notice a few unusually-colored veins on her face, mostly bluish, but she is cheerful. I ask the cats if she had fallen off the bed, actually expecting a vocal answer, but there is no reply. Still, it does not seem to be the case. (Cats are typically a “witness” to the liminality of the dream state for several reasons.)

      My dream fades, though I eventually enter another one. This time I am in Cubitis in the living room, though I do not recall that I had not lived there since 1978. It seems to be morning now.

      I go to a fictitious entrance in the middle of the east living room wall. Farther to the east, from the doorway, I see that clouds are close to the ground, creating a virtual horizon at about where the railroad tracks would have been. I consider this incredibly strange. My youngest daughter is present again, though now about three years old. I tell her, “Look, the sky has fallen.” I do not believe that the sky has “fallen.” I only say this to create a story-like interest for her. She seems cheerful and wants to see. Still, I perceive something weird is going on (the typical subliminal awareness I am dreaming, yet without triggering lucidity or even non-lucid control mode).

      I am aware of my father being in the southwest bedroom. (I do not recall that he had died when I was in my teens, long before I came to Australia or married. I have no recall of having had a mother. What my non-lucid dream self recalls and does not from dream to dream is never consistent and rarely makes any sense.) Suddenly, through the curtains, I am aware that the area where the clouds had been is now blue sky and it is suddenly much brighter, like a curtain suddenly lifting from the false horizon. However, I am aware that this means that all the clouds in the region had suddenly come together to compress and go higher in the sky to form a tornado. It will likely come straight towards our home.

      Something unusual happens, as a thread of subliminal recall of recently working on a compilation of January 1970 dreams becomes the non-lucid focus. It changes the outcome of this dream even though the autosymbolism is inherently of the same waking process, relating to vestibular system correlation.

      It causes my dream to non-lucidly transform into identical content from January 1970, with the same outcome and mood. Instead of a threat, the scenario resets to where I am looking at the “same” cluster of clouds near the ground. An angel (with large white wings) appears in the distance, hovering in the air in a standing position. She is wearing white and will probably give me a gift.

      Instead of a tornado being the more dominant precursor for VSC (its processing based on ultradian rhythm), it shifts to the less-aggressive angel and bird forms (similar to dreams as “King of the Birds” from January 1971). A dove flies quickly to me, into my hands, giving me the strong impression that the angel had transformed into it. As I look down, as it settles into the palms of my hands while facing right, it is almost like a fuzzy pastel painting of peace and beauty as I slowly wake. (This is virtually identical to the January 1970 dream at age nine.)


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      non-lucid