• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




    View RSS Feed

    Blue_Opossum

    1. Sand that comes and goes on Stadcor Street, Slug and a Snail

      by , 04-02-2018 at 10:50 AM
      Morning of April 2, 2018. Monday.



      This dream renders a unique setting as always, a setting that has never featured in this specific way in any previous dream, which is a process to prevent associations with waking life to prevent false memory. In this case, it is primarily the Stadcor Street house in Brisbane (where we have not lived in years). However, upon seeing Zsuzsanna in the final segment, it is like the northeast room of the King Street mansion, where I have not been since the 1990s (and where Zsuzsanna has never been, never having been to America). Even so, it is on the opposite side of where the Stadcor Street bedroom actually was in respect to my dream’s layout. Additionally, my current conscious self identity is only partly extant.

      I go to look in the backyard for some reason. It seems to be late morning. I am aware that an unusual wind from the east (my right in my dream’s view) has brought a lot of fine white sand into our backyard. There are many shallow recesses in the yard that contain this fine white sand. I start to consider how unusual a feature this is. I study the area for several minutes. Looking off to my left, just beyond the driveway, I see a low embankment. Two very large turnip plants are growing. Only one has a visible turnip slightly above the ground. I consider if I should pull them up, as they seem fully grown, but I start to focus on the main backyard again.

      I notice an area of ground to my left where I realize the whiteness of the sand in that part of the yard may be caused by sunbeams. The area has a silvery glow. Still, the other areas really do contain the unusual fine sand. I decide to go into the house to tell Zsuzsanna about it and to describe the unusual wind that brought the sand into our backyard.

      When in the bedroom, I see Zsuzsanna sitting on the bed, facing me as I stand nearby. The closet of the northeast King Street mansion bedroom is visible near the end of the bed (though I am uncertain of whether it is the head or foot of the bed). As I stand, looking into the closet, I notice a very large slug crawling slowly up the wall. Its view is partly blocked for a time. I watch its optical and sensory tentacles move about. I continue to gaze at it as I also pull a snail from my right arm that had somehow also gotten stuck on my shirt sleeve, somehow making the shirt sleeve also stick to me. This event is distorted, as the shirt seems to have been hanging on a hook on the wall, with me not wearing it at the time and yet somehow also wearing it at the same time (a typical dream event that is impossible to resolve in conscious afterthought).

      There is a brief offset dream where I go back to the backyard and discover that the ground is now only with normal-colored dirt in the recesses. I am somewhat puzzled. I consider how short a time period that the event must have taken place for no traces of the other sand to remain.



      This is a sustained dream segment that is otherwise based on water lowering waking symbolism from an earlier dream. A short time ago, I happened to read the following: “Dreaming of sand may represent the border between the conscious (beach/land) and unconscious (ocean/water) minds.” I found this astounding because it is extremely rare to read anything about dreams from any public source that has an iota of truth on any level. However, it is more about the liminal space between dream self and conscious self, unrelated to waking life itself.

      This dream mostly centers around sleep recognition waking symbolism, which is somewhat of a misnomer as the inference is literal, not symbolic, and based on a subliminal realization that I am actually in bed and asleep. Obviously, the bed confirms this. Additionally, the turnips are autosymbolism for Zsuzsanna and I sleeping. Additionally, the snail and the slug are associated with moving slowly, a play on being sluggish or asleep. The confusion with the shirt relates to the fact that I am not dressed when I sleep.

      Once again, this dream had a prescient thread as many of my dreams do at one point or another (sometimes covering many years in advance which is inherently unfathomable), which is sometimes very frustrating as it often serves no useful purpose other than to convince me that most human minds work in a completely different way than mine. Another poster on the Dreamscloud website had posted an image of a slug (the image repeated three times) just before I was finishing this entry, despite the recognized autosymbolism of a slug representing vague threads of my conscious self identity (in being mostly inactive) in REM sleep.