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    1. Being a Paragraph in my Bed

      by , 10-06-2017 at 04:06 PM
      Morning of October 6, 2017. Friday.



      Something has happened to my physical form, but possibly only as I am “sleeping”.

      I think of myself as a paragraph of writing, in the form of a hazy cloud of about four feet long, hovering a few inches above our bed. Being a paragraph incarnate makes me feel somewhat vulnerable. I am aware of Zsuzsanna sleeping om my left, but my viewpoint is curiously from somewhere in the center of our bed at times.

      Other than being only a hazy cluster of “words” hovering a short distance above our bed, there is a perception of having an additional “shell” at times, or some sort of armor, but which comes and goes. There is no viable perception of having a physical body. I vaguely remember an affirmation (“I am of the healing powers of Universal Mind”) but I do not fully grasp or sustain it.

      I turn in my “sleep”. It is like a twisting that “rolls” from “head” to “foot” when I do. It occurs about four times. I am aware that having transformed into the form of a paragraph relates to my illness (food poisoning). I only feel slightly ill in the dream state.

      Before I am fully awake, I start to realize aspects of this abstract dream’s source. It is quite old and it has been years since this memory was more present. Years ago, in an animated version (shown on television a few times) of “A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court”, there was a scene where a boy informed the main character that he was a page. The Connecticut Yankee responded by saying something like “A page? You’re no more than a paragraph.” Additionally, having the “armor” around my cloudy form relates to the (King Arthur) knight association with the story. The perceived “suit of armor” is obviously a biological symbol of wishing to be protected from the norovirus. The rest, including “being a paragraph”, is incidental to this association with the Mark Twain story, which I had not thought about for a long time.



      Since early childhood, my non-lucid dreams, other than prescient or precognitive threads, have often resolved themselves in meaning in a form of light hypnopompic thinking (as well as reveal source patterns that created my dream in the first place), which is often carried directly into conscious afterthought (although this process is occasionally “replaced” by a false awakening where I am writing down my dream or talking about it with someone else). In a way, this has always been like having two dreams in succession, the original dream (often surreal or at least unusual and illogical) and the decoding of its meaning while waking or in a different (much lighter) level of unconsciousness. (It was not until I was about seventeen years old that I started to come to terms with the fact that most people were apparently not like this.)


      Categories
      non-lucid
    2. Loomis Street Door Mishap

      by , 09-01-2015 at 10:38 AM
      Morning of September 1, 2015. Tuesday.



      My wife and children and I are living on Loomis Street, it seems (though my wife and children have never been to America). At least that is where my entire dream takes place; in the front part of the house. However, the house is mirrored from north to south - the first distortion of the Loomis Street house in this particular way that I remember. It does not trigger any degree of lucidity that the house is mirrored from my right to my left as such. My family seems to at least partly be living in the first small bedroom.

      My sister Marilyn makes an appearance as she was perhaps in the early 1970s (before I even moved back to Wisconsin). She seems healthy and happy. She goes to open her bedroom door and the door mostly falls off the hinges but is still partly attached at the top. She is annoyed and mentions something about how she wanted to listen to Neil Diamond with her door closed (apparently so as not to bother others, including her sickly husband). (This is odd, as she had never listened to Neil Diamond in real life regardless of her huge record, reel to reel, and cassette tape collection.)

      I go over and make the offer to fix it, but her husband Bob suddenly shows up as if having just arrived (possibly dropped off by his relatives or perhaps my sister Carol - this is not certain). He insists that he can do it. He looks very ill and begins at the top of the door frame. The hinges are not as they would be in reality. Each of the two hinges in the door frame (the ones that came loose) is held by two silver sets of nuts and bolts, the bolts facing outward from the door frame. He begins to work on the top nut by tightening it with his hands. The other nut below that is there but very loose. The other two nuts (for the bottom hinge) are somehow somewhere in that bedroom on the other side of the door (which is not logical, as the nuts would have rolled into the living room relating to how the door mostly came off, not the other direction). Just as he is tightening the top nut, he drops his left arm (the hinges are on the left side of the door from the living room perspective). He then seems to go into some sort of pseudo-ritualistic trance. I notice that there are dark reddish circles around his eyes and he is wearing no shirt. (He is just in his underwear.) He had arrived in only his underwear and had apparently been in the hospital for a week or more.

      He just stands there looking very ill. He starts chanting “Have a headache…don’t care…have a headache…don’t care…” (which seems to mean he does not care about anything in life, even continuing to fix the hinges). I get the strong impression that he is very close to death. I decide that I will manually tighten the other nuts myself, but just as I contemplate tightening the bottom nut of the top hinge, my dream fades.

      Zsuzsanna woke with a slight headache and a bit of nausea so it is possible our empathetic link projected into a different dream character (as this has happened before) - even though her character in my dream seemed healthy and happy. In fact, this metaphor (a door not being on all the hinges) does seem to have something to do with empathetic links that need to be strengthened for the health or vitality of both (including at different levels of thought). A door itself is a point between two rooms and often takes a dreamer into different levels of consciousness or awareness.

      Precognition unveils. Right after my wife had the television on (and just as I was ready to post this), the first thing she hears is “Neil Diamond…(pause)…No, it wasn’t Neil Diamond”. My wife just smiled at me and said “You’re funny”. Of course, this is a natural event via the Source, like digesting food, not an active “ability” for the most part (at least in this particular case).

      Updated 09-01-2015 at 01:33 PM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid
    3. Venomous Cat Encounter on Loomis Street

      by , 11-24-2014 at 05:24 PM
      Morning of November 24, 2014. Monday.



      I am back at my older sister Marilyn’s house in La Crosse and trying to get her to appear by calling out to her to show herself (having the understanding that she had died yet also still potentially present in certain supraconscious dream realms, perhaps). I am semi-lucid in an atypical way; not in a more coherent sense. In one sense, it is vaguely like some sort of soliloquy-like seance. Over time, my sister does not walk from the other room as I expect her to even though I vaguely sense her presence on the other side of the darkened doorway. I am trying not to project my frustration as there is a growing realization she does not exist anymore, yet at the same time I sense her unwillingness to come out. However, there is no stronger focus on mortality by that point. (I have had very similar dream scenes in the past but usually tulpa-based, not related to real people either living or deceased.)

      Eventually, three cats enter the house somehow (possibly through the open front door). One of the cats seems to be one which my family presently has (though had supposedly died in my dream’s back story weeks before). It is Franco, a black and white male cat. The other two cats are more like miniature leopards in one way but still with domestic cat attributes including the body proportions. From here, my dream goes into some distorted scenes where my perception is badly skewed.

      I falsely “remember” that these were my sister’s two cats. Somehow (also an in-dream false memory) they died around the same time she did, which is supposedly related to something unexplainable (relative to “mutual deaths” which stems from real-life ideas of the past where a sister’s neighbor died and then their otherwise healthy spouse died shortly thereafter, supposedly out of grief). However, at the same time, there is a highly ambiguous idea that they are still alive (but Franco had been partly made sick by them as well) and had caused sickness in other people (in turn causing their death) by biting or scratching them (again, a false memory as the other people reflected upon other than my sister are still alive). Again, this is directly related to the two “leopard cats” (possible association with leprosy as well as the pet hybrid bobcat attack I experienced in my youth). They are not very aggressive (they seem to be mostly just playful though do attempt to “hunt” based on my body’s movement), but I want to completely avoid contact with them as they are seemingly venomous. I am aware of mild pressure on my body at times but I do not seem to actually be bitten at any point. (This seems partially related to a “struggle” with the bed sheet and an attempt to get my real physical body into a more comfortable position.)

      I go to the couch, slowly going back into a semi-lucid state, and am on my knees on the floor at that point, my head near the seat of the couch. However, there is not that much coherence even though my general awareness is slowly sharpening. I then go into an odd state that is quite rare, where I attempt to “spit out” my dream while still in it before I fully wake. It takes about three attempts in making sure my dream’s environment does not “enter” my waking essence (the opposite of healing dreams where I intentionally carry facets of my dream’s energy into waking life). I do not seem to recall reading about this sort of dream experience, other than some supposed healers in real life spitting out the essence of what they supposedly take out of their patients. On another note, this dream setting near the couch is the exact spot of one of the only times in my life I have been ill in this manner in real life (from one of the only times in my life that I drank alcohol).

      Updated 09-10-2015 at 10:56 AM by 1390

      Categories
      lucid
    4. Not a Leprechaun (precognitive)

      by , 10-07-2014 at 04:07 PM
      Morning of October 7, 2014. Tuesday.



      I am living with my family in an unfamiliar setting. It does not seem to be a composite of (or have features of) any known locations. Assuming the main wall which I am near at the beginning of the dream is oriented south (which feels right related to where I live now), there is a hall that goes to the south in the southeast corner of the room and a large bed comes out from the middle south-side wall. It may have a frame rather than just being on a box-spring mattress but this is not clear - it is fairly low to the floor. Just east of the bed (south wall) is at least one large brown wooden wardrobe, similar to one we actually have. I am not clear on any other layout other than the room I am in though it seems there may be a large kitchen to the west via a doorway in the northwest corner of this room.

      My youngest son is present when I look up and see a small person on top of the wardrobe sitting on his knees and looking down at us warily. It is a male but I am not sure of the age, possibly a young boy, but he seems like a weary old man in some ways. He is only about a foot and a half tall at the most. He is wearing a drab and baggy mossy green jumpsuit with a hood that covers most of his head except for a small region of his face. I say to my son, “Oh look, it’s a leprechaun”. I ask him if he is hungry and he nods tentatively. I reason that a rat or two may have stolen his last meal, which was probably only a bread crumb.

      I reach up and take him down with a hand on each hip, trying not to hurt him. I stand him on the floor near my son and continue to say “Look…it’s a leprechaun”. My son seems interested in seeing this “magical creature” in our house. After a time, I realize that it is probably not a leprechaun but just a homeless man that had found his way into the house and had been hiding in the walls for a time. This seems a fairly common occurrence. I tell him that I am sorry for calling him a leprechaun but that my son likes leprechauns (false in-dream memory). He does not seem to mind and then seems more like a boy with a disease that is linked to why he is so small. He seems a bit unsteady so I place him in the bed because he says he has a medipack of food he needs for nourishment. He needs to place it directly into his stomach which is fitted through a tube on his side.

      After several minutes pass, I look around and see a young plain-looking girl with shoulder-length straight blonde hair. She is looking around the corner of the edge of the hall. She does not seem familiar in any way but I seem to understand that she is the boy’s sister. I say, “oh, hello” and she leaves after smiling a short time.

      Soon after this, an older male walks partly into the room and I realize that we are being visited by possibly a friend of a member of my wife’s family in Brisbane. He does not look familiar in any way, either. I tell him that his son is having a meal and resting. I also tell him about a couple recent encounters with similar miniature people (except that one was only about six inches high) that were homeless (false memories, of course). He talks about how unfortunate it is that some people with this disease do not have homes or proper care and walks back to apparently the living room of this unknown house.

      I go to take the boy from the bed (he seems very listless and possibly ill at this point) because a mess is being made from the food pack because of a leak. I ask him if he can stand after standing him up on the floor because he seems a bit wobbly and I am not sure if he can walk very far. The food is like some sort of green mush, like mashed peas or porridge but quite runny. A lot of green goo is running over the bed and dripping down the side onto the floor. This is quite annoying and messy but I do not want to show any anger. Instead, I mention to myself that I will have to get a towel and clean it up. I am kind of glad that the people are only visiting and will not be here very often.

      My youngest son (who I was showing the rather ominous in afterthought “leprechaun” to in this dream) went to the hospital a day after this dream (has not been in several years) with some sort of totally unexpected unknown stomach virus. He seems to be doing better. Thus the typical layer of precognition (which I even sensed in-dream this time but did not want to).

      Also, something I had left out from the original entry involved a play on “leprechaun” being like “leper-con” (relative to the disease.

      Updated 09-20-2015 at 11:08 AM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid , memorable