Blue_Opossum

Morning of January 30, 2016. Saturday.



This dream mostly involved a focus on “forcing” energy from my hands. Typically, the energies that flow from my hands in dreams where I heal people is a sort of blue lightning. In real life, I had discussed this with other posters on the dream journal website who had the same experiences. It was interesting that directing blue lightning from one’s hands is not that rare a dream event with certain dreamers.

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This dream does not feature the blue lightning but instead has a sort of “hissing” emerging from the palms of my hands. The force seems less automatic than with the blue lightning dreams; that is, I sort of mentally initiate the sound and implication. My wife Zsuzsanna and our children and I are present as we are now. My mother-in-law and Zsuzsanna’s youngest sister are also present. The setting is completely unknown. It seems to be an unfamiliar residence my mother-in-law lives in near a rural area. There seems to be a backstory of her having to move out soon. There are many small items everywhere in her house, including a miniature yellow rubber duck on her kitchen table.

The situations where I mentally force my hands to “activate” certain inherent energies create a sound that is similar to that of a garden hose. Perhaps this is a play on rainfall due to a very intense period of thunder and lightning in reality here yesterday (which knocked our power out for several hours) - and it is interesting that lightning and rain go together and my blue lightning is replaced by the “sound of rain” (again, in a situation that does not involve healing). I do not seem as confident here as with previous dreams of various forms of energies from my hands and I do not seem to have a specific reason for doing it. Curiously, my mother-in-law and her youngest daughter do not act aggressively and obsessively as they do in real life. The energies that flow upward from the palms of my hands seem like small and long transparent cylinders of very pale silver light, almost like a “raining upwards” effect but no feeling of wetness or impression of water. These scenes take place outside at night (or just before dawn) in a rural park-like area.

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Morning of July 8, 1973. Sunday.



[I willfully enter into what I consider may be my last dream of the morning. I maintain my lucidity, perhaps only losing a thread or two of my conscious self identity. The essence of my neural activity becomes the more tangible form of water, as it most often does, and the water expands to form a lake. I welcome the presence of female genitalia, and it is rendered as a canoe, which floats on the shimmering lake in mid-afternoon].

I look upon Lake Katherine. The area seems more rural than it is in reality. I gaze upon the beauty of the reflected trees, downwardly mirrored in the lake’s surface around its perimeter.

[I desire female company and physical pleasure, so I choose to become fully integrated within my dream self’s imaginary body.]

I am sitting in the canoe facing my dark-haired green-eyed gypsy dream girl. We begin to become intimate. My sense of touch is augmented. We mostly kiss for several minutes.

[I am enjoying my dream very much. My dream girl is passive and welcoming. I begin to become distracted by some sort of ambiance that extends beyond my will. It sounds somewhat like hissing.]

A large green sea serpent rises up out of the water on my left in somewhat of an “S” shape, hissing at us. It is not that close to the canoe but displaying at least ten feet of its body from the lake’s surface to the top of its head.

[The preconscious is warning me that I need to leave my dream even though I do not want to. Still, the preconscious’s lake denizen is rather silly-looking, modeled after the one in the Carl Barks “No Such Varmint” Donald Duck comic book story, though slightly more realistic and menacing, though I do not feel that threatened because I am lucid.]

I want to be more intimate with my dream girl but upon touching her, the tangibility of her forearm seems to dissipate. My dream world starts to dissolve.

[I float horizontally and upwards, my back downwards, in the higher mental realm of dissipating liminal space, annoyed by my dream being over. I can still hear the hissing to my left. The hissing turns out to be the real sound of the garden hose as my mother is watering the front flower box in real life at this time, some of the water spraying onto my closed jalousie windows.]

My spoiled dream is of no consequence. I married my dark-haired green-eyed gypsy dream girl on April 9, 1994.