• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views

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    1. Bed, Sheets, Blankets, and Pillows (Dream Journal Reference)

      by , 02-01-2018 at 02:51 PM
      Afternoon of February 1, 2018. Thursday.

      It begins like this. A person gets undressed for bed. Perhaps he or she sits or lies in bed for a time, while undressed, before going to sleep. Perhaps they watch television or talk on the telephone while undressed in bed in their preparation to go to sleep. They might think about recent social encounters as they sit or lie in bed, while preparing for sleep, while undressed. Later, they might have a dream of being undressed, perhaps in public, and then after waking, wonder “what it could mean”. Still, it is neither my place nor purpose to make light of society’s unfathomable buffoonery and shortsightedness in my public dream journal.

      This entry focuses mainly on first-level dream state indicators. In this case, beds, bed sheets, and pillows are the focus as a reference entry to link (viable dream journal websites only, as on other sites it will just remain as a singular post).

      Because dream state indicators of this nature occur in over twenty percent of my dreams, which I consider as quite natural and obvious, I have created this no-brainer reference entry for people who might otherwise puzzle over what this or that means in my dream journal. Still, there are specific threads of meaning depending on when and how a dream state indicator is rendered, especially if it is separate from other elements. (For example, although I often fly with a bed sheet as a “cloak” or “cape”, a bed as a flight symbol is uncommon.)

      A bed could easily serve as either induction symbolism or waking transition symbolism. I do not consider it as pure autosymbolism since I relate autosymbolism as non-literal factors within the dream state (even though liminal space symbolism is analogically literal to real-life liminal space settings). For example, a bed in a parking lot (as I have actually dreamt a few times) would be a dream state indicator rendered into liminal space autosymbolism, even though this is a form of composite redundancy, where both factors, bed and parking lot, are indicative of being between dreaming and waking.

      When I was very young, I used to see dream state indicators as a minimal form of RAS mediation (even serving to subliminally ground me to my real environment) to remind my dream self that my physical body is unconscious. In a way, that is still true, though I tend to see it more as a biological factor that carries over into the dream state, as impressions of one’s real environment often carry over into the dream state, especially the tactile nature of pillows and bed sheets. Even so, it could also just be a residual subliminal memory of having fallen asleep (assuming a deeper state of unconsciousness where environmental factors are not as influential).

      I have often used a bed sheet or blanket to cover my body (when otherwise nude) in both lucid and non-lucid flying dreams (and certainly not because of modesty, as who cares about modesty in the dream state, but because of the realism of certain environmental factors in dreams, such as twigs and roof features). This validates that my dream self is aware of the status of my physical body, at least to a degree. Of course, in lucid dreams I do this on purpose, though in non-lucid dreams, it is a carryover factor, unrelated to waking life since the carryover is by habit of dream state awareness, not waking life focus. (One would assume this as obvious, but as I have learned, especially since 2013, empty-headedness, especially when it comes to understanding the dream state, is a dominant factor in many people.)

      Pillows are in contrast to bed sheets as a dream state indicator in some dreams due to their association with vivid hypnagogia in childhood dreams. I saw pillows, mainly only those of one pale color, as a sort of hypnagogic “television” (even before I ever watched much television in reality.) By shifting my dream self’s gaze from pillow imagery to my dream’s much larger environment, I could vivify my dream and in contrast, by pulling the dream content in my dream’s larger environment “back” into my dream’s pillow, an implied threat becoming smaller and two-dimensional, restricted to the surface of my pillowcase, it became far less of an implied threat. This may be why I have rarely ever had significant nightmares other than singular examples when biologically premonitory.

      Beds in unusual locations are as so, because a dream state indicator is typically unrelated to the rest of a dream’s content other than in the redundant example given above; bed in parking lot; though a bed in a lake is induction symbolism (as water is autosymbolism for entry into the dream state, and as a result, even a glass of water splashed in the face can vivify a dream).

      There are times when dream state indicators of this kind are prescient, for example, in foreshadowing an illness. This includes cloaked figures (though not always) as a bed sheet or blanket association. There were two recent dreams about two of our sons, both related to them being in bed and somewhat tired, and both prior to a serious (though short-term) illness. One of these dreams included a cloaked figure of our youngest son’s height. However, such dreams also have a specific mood, which I hope to learn to hone in on to a more viable extent. Additionally, actually being tired in a dream (not necessarily being in bed) is an entirely different concept than just being in bed or seeing a bed incidentally, and usually indicates actual physical tiredness (at least for me).

      side notes
    2. Oliver’s Terrarium, Mail-Order Pills, Dream Sign Attack

      by , 10-17-2016 at 11:12 AM
      Morning of October 17, 2016. Monday.

      The time seems to be early afternoon in all the outdoor scenes. In the first scene I am in our residence but I am not sure where it is implied to be. Our youngest son Oliver has a large terrarium that extends from floor to ceiling though it looks like an aviary. It is directly in the corner of the left side of the room, about two and a half feet square. He seems cheerful. Zsuzsanna is concerned about him seeing the turtle he had brought home the day before. I look in and notice that the turtle seems propped against the back of the cage on the right. It is on its right side and a bite had seemingly been taken out of it, shell and all, probably by another animal in the cage. I am not sure what to do with it but Oliver does not notice.

      My attention falls on weird animals in the cage. There are a few spiders with black disk-like bodies, the bodies of which are almost as big as my fist, though their legs are nearly three feet long. The legs are thin and closely paired so that it looks like they have four legs instead of eight. One seems positioned head down, its legs on two different large branches so that I mostly view it from the top of its body. I look to the right side and notice that the cage, at least on that side, is designed more like the front of a jail cell with the bars sparse enough for any of the animals to easily leave the cage. The side facing me does not seem of this appearance. I comment on how they could get out, but it does not bother me that much.

      In the second scene, the personified preconscious appears as an unknown male of about my age and is presently sitting in another area of the room, though does not yet attain a more dominant presence. I watch three mole crickets crawling about on a pillow. Two are their natural color but the smallest of the three, in the middle, is pure white. I reflect on the idea of them possibly crawling on a person in their sleep, but there is not that much concern. A mole cricket is a tertiary dream sign that symbolizes going deeper into sleep in real-time, two of them symbolizing Zsuzsanna and I but the white one in the middle representing moon induction (circadian rhythms factor) and shared dreaming on the spiritual level as analogous to the Blue Pearl event (inviolable telepathy between soulmates, specifically twin flames as Zsuzsanna and I are).

      The personified preconscious points to an unrealistically large detached crab spider head facing us from the right side of a pillow across the room on a bed perpendicular to the bed I had been looking at near the center of the room. “Something should be done about that head on the pillow,” he says. Despite this incredibly obvious dream sign of him directly exposing his role as the personified preconscious, my dream self remains completely clueless and no lucidity is triggered.

      In the next scene, we end up in a small dimly lit room which has the essence of liminal space (even though I am not near waking yet). He sits on a wooden chair while I seem to sit cross-legged on the floor. I am facing him as he talks about money but he seems sarcastic about a certain business I do not know the name of (although he had apparently said it a few times but my dream self remains unaware of some of what he says). He seems to mimic advertisements and promotional gimmicks. “Make lots of money,” he says, mocking the original supposed speaker and waving his arms around seemingly in frustration. “Have you heard of Amway?” I ask him after watching and listening to his routine for several minutes. He glares at me as if I am unbelievably stupid and had not heard a word he had said, as Amway is apparently what he had been talking about all that time. I feel embarrassed but try to explain that I had heard him, though my pretense is not very convincing.

      In the next scene I find myself near an intersection having apparently mowed our front lawn recently. My (fictional) house is on the street that is perpendicular from where I am standing near a bus stop. I contemplate how I have to mow this whole area, but after a short time, I realize that it is not my responsibility and the city council will do it at a later date. Despite being near the bus stop, I am not interested in (subliminally) shifting consciousness. However, five young people get off. They do not regard me at this time.

      Despite my cursory faux memory and brief acknowledgement of my dream house (which seems vaguely based on the Loomis Street house though the rest of the area is not as such), I soon go into the backyard of our present house, though the gate is on the wrong side; at the north end of the fence near the southwest corner of our house instead of the south end near the northwest corner of our shed. A young unfamiliar black woman, who seems to be a teacher, is there with Zsuzsanna. Zsuzsanna has seemingly been given something that was stealthily taken from the personified preconscious. It seems conspiratorial. There are apparently two batches of mail-order pills. I take the two packages from Zsuzsanna’s left hand. One of them is a C4 manila envelope (yellow) padded with bubble-wrap and the other is a white C8 envelope with lesser bubble wrap. I open the larger package to find that it contains several cylindrical prescription bottles of pills of some kind. (None of us take prescription pills in real life.) There is also a receipt. I look at it and read it closely. “These pills cost eighty-six dollars a fortnight,” I say, seeing the total price listed as $86.00 under $79.95 and the shipping and handling fee of $6.05. “It's eighty-six.”

      I fail to recall that eighty-six is the number implemented when the personified preconscious gives up on my non-lucid dream self (having “eighty-sixed me”), thus no coalescence, implicit or not, at the waking stage. This is validated by the fact it comes in the mail, which represents communication between dream self and whole conscious self identity.

      The preconscious essence flows into the five children (and I do not focus on the fact that we have five children although these children are unfamiliar) who had gotten off the bus earlier and so naturally they approach our home to impose upon us to try to get me to either wake or become lucid. Zsuzsanna and I are sitting on chairs outside of our fence, our backs to it, our youngest daughter and youngest son sitting between us (which is not something we had ever actually done). A boy somehow throws a large mattress fairly high into the air above our heads (probably subliminally associated with our youngest son now sleeping on the top bunk of a bunk bed), but it misses us in coming down, landing immediately to Zsuzsanna’s right. I get the impression that he had been trying to throw the mattress over our fence (beyond liminal space and out of the immediate level of consciousness). I still do not grasp such an obvious dream sign. “Are you trying to kill someone…such as a baby?” I yell angrily at the boy.

      The entire orientation soon changes without a clue on my part. We are now all in our backyard on our side of the fence yet the five children (who must have teleported with us) are now leaving through the gate, the boy somehow carrying the mattress again (which does not at all resolve logically from a conscious viewpoint since he is seemingly carrying it on his right side as he would a textbook). I am so angry that I decide to follow them. As soon as I step outside of the gate, my consciousness shifts into the waking stage and I realize I had been had.
    3. Miniature Wolves

      by , 01-15-2016 at 07:15 AM
      Morning of January 15, 2016. Friday.

      This dream was really odd in what I first thought was random distortion, though I soon began to grasp at least three layers of meaning in a fairly short time, one layer (the most likely, I think) which I will share here.

      I am making love to Zsuzsanna in an unknown and unfamiliar setting - what seems to be a fancy hotel room. The made bed (closer to the cater-cornered door than where we are) has its headboard against the wall. I am directly on the right side of it on my back on the carpeted floor, facing the opposite direction of the headboard (with my feet closest to the table and lamp near the wall). Zsuzsanna is on top, first facing one direction than facing the other (in two different events - the sense of touch and localized awareness of heat being very elevated).

      I am becoming more and more aware (though not lucid) and soon notice several miniature wolves (slightly smaller than a cat) running around in midair (at about shoulder height), one directly above the pillow. These wolves are not threatening in any way, just mildly distracting. I start to wonder how many there are or if they will become less chaotic (for example, to form a straight line somewhere).

      My reasoning was almost stumped until my interpretation ability flowed naturally. What do people supposedly do when they want to sleep? Count sheep, of course…miniature imaginary sheep that hop over the would-be sleeper and his pillow and are sometimes imagined as floating in the air. This is inverted on possibly two levels. Instead of counting sheep, I am already in the dream state, so the “opposite” form appears - wolves. They are also not lined up to count, implying the dream continuing without waking (though they still may imply the waking mechanism since dreams often implement opposite “what if” ideas). There may also be an association with sheep as related to the popular non-word “sheeple” to describe unaware people. Wolves imply freedom and intelligence over the unaware conformist. However, something being in mid-air, I happen to know (by being directly told in the dream state) that it may sometimes mean “not getting enough support”, which may relate to my perception of much of humanity as not being very aware - or even interested in their own mind and dream states.