• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views

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    1. Rows of Tornadoes and a Motherboard Sky

      by , 11-27-2019 at 06:22 AM
      Morning of November 27, 2019. Wednesday.

      Dream #: 19,336-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min.

      In this dream, Zsuzsanna and I are living in the Cubitis house (a one-floor single-family home) in Florida, though the layout is different. There is a storm approaching from the west. When I look outside, I see it is night. A few equidistant rows of tornadoes are coming down on the other side of the highway, directly above the orange grove. Nothing happens, as they disappear before reaching the front yard.

      I go around the side of the house that now features the south side of the Loomis Street house (a two-storey residence for two families) in Wisconsin (which is facing north, the opposite direction it should be by compass direction in respect to its integration with the Cubitis house in this new amalgam). People I do not know are living here. I tell them how the tornadoes disappeared after crossing to our side of the highway.

      Later, I am standing in the front yard, looking up. The entire sky looks like a giant motherboard, though there are pairs of what look like satellite dishes and observatories (directed downward). I am puzzled and start to think about how people could have made something so big and so high, and I have a vague wariness about its architectural stability, though I am mostly unconcerned. The Cubitis house now seems like a skyscraper (holding up part of the motherboard sky) and where an orange grove should be is another high building holding it up on the other side, though most of it is expansive.
    2. Of Roof Space, Indoor Rain, and Shouting Palm Trees

      by , 12-04-2018 at 07:44 AM
      Morning of December 4, 2018. Tuesday.

      Dream #: 18,978-02. Reading time: 3 min 20 sec. Readability score: 62.

      At the beginning of my non-lucid dream, I am with an unfamiliar woman (of perhaps twenty) in a fictitious room of the Barolin Street house that is implied to be between the main bedroom and the lounge room. There is no furniture in the room. Despite my lack of viable dream state awareness, I am subliminally aware that I am dreaming.

      My dream self believes that we are awake but that I am ritually inducing the dream state. We are lying on the wooden floor. I am aware of Zsuzsanna being nearby, yet I also do not see the unfamiliar woman as an imposter or trespasser. (This is because she is supposed to be the usual Naiad and melatonin mediator, modeled after a young Zsuzsanna, but because I am not viably lucid, the situation is distorted and integrated with other dreaming processes.) I am teaching her how to enter the dream state by creating the illusion of water as autosymbolic of natural melatonin and as defining illusory physicality within sleep. I cause the floor to transform into shallow water (the typical beginning of dream state entry since early childhood), and we float around for a short time even though it only seems about four inches deep. There is an awareness that I am entering the dream state (even though I am already dreaming). I consider that if the water becomes very deep as we go farther into the dream state, sharks might eventually appear below us, but there is no continuity of perceived threat.

      From here, I enter a more vivid dream segment. There are no thoughts about the unfamiliar woman, who has vanished, or of the previous exercise. Zsuzsanna and our two youngest children are present. There is no longer any association with dream entry or being in the dream state. There is a storm approaching from the south. I look out from the lounge room and see odd clouds, one of them shaped like a top. Despite the several big fluffy clouds being white, they supposedly are storm clouds. I try to create a tornado from the one that looks like a top. Soon, there is a loud crash, and something, perhaps a large tree branch (though I do not see it) comes through the roof above the hallway, leaving an irregular hole. Rain comes in. Zsuzsanna and I look at the damage. I deliberately stand under the rain coming through the ceiling. I feel cool and refreshed, and my dream becomes much more vivid. (I have used water to vivify and sustain my dreams since early childhood.)

      In the next scene, I walk around observing water flowing down the walls from the edges of the ceiling. There is a plastic storage box on a high shelf that I feel concern about getting wet, as it may contain textbooks or my dream journals. However, it does not seem that the water is anywhere but on the walls. Through the windows, I look at the cluster of white clouds again and notice more that are shaped like tops, though I try to imagine more than there are.

      Zsuzsanna and our two youngest children look outside and up from (fictitious) lounge room windows at the south end of the room. It seems to be nighttime now. Near our house are two tall palm trees (not a real-life feature). The palm trees start to move in the wind and soon bow down near the windows and, at first, “roar” at us. Loud human voices, somewhat electronic, come from atop them. I find it curious but not unusual.

      Upon going outside, I see that Isaiah Washington (from “The 100”) is inside a space (as if I am viewing the imagery with x-ray vision) in the fetal position near the bottom of one of the palm trees. He is speaking into a microphone. He loudly and cheerfully states, “This is sector seven.” It seems that another male (though I do not see him) is inside the other palm tree. The loud voices are coming from loudspeakers atop the palm trees.

      The neurological function of the preconscious simulacrum (Isaiah Washington in this case) is to guide the dream self back into wakefulness (which is known as RAS or reticular activating system mediation or modulation depending on the mode of the dream self) - and enigmatic space typically results in an avatar with authority (fictitious or not) as in this case. The fetal position implies being “reborn” into waking life. The bowing palm trees are the association with a form of vestibular system correlation, the emerging awareness (vestibular precursor) of the return to viable physicality upon waking (as the dream self does not correctly discern the physical body until RAS and the vestibular system kicks in, which often results in flying or falling, bicycle riding, using stairs, and so on). It follows the usual autosymbolism-driven formats, in the same order, that my dreams have for over fifty years, though the processes are always unique and intriguing in their rendering.

    3. The Roof is off Again

      by , 07-17-2018 at 01:08 PM
      Morning of July 17, 2018. Tuesday.

      In my dream, the setting is an isolated version of our present home, with the erroneous factor of being in a large field. The roof is different from what it is in reality and is more like the roof of the Cubitis house. We have neighbors who live nearby, but not as in a typical suburban area.

      It seems to be late morning in my dream. Threads of my conscious self identity are scant, but I am aware of my marriage and family.

      Vestibular system correlation begins in the form of the approaching winds of a storm. Zsuzsanna and I are outside. I see a tornado. It is not a threat and seems unusually thin. I non-lucidly mediate the weather without my dream self becoming lucid.

      As time passes, there are a few more tornadoes. One of them moves toward our house. As I anticipated, one of the tornadoes turns, moving into our house, tearing the roof off, but not doing any other damage.

      “Oh no, not again,” I say, without much emotion or excitement. (This is a reference to the natural disaster that we survived in November of last year.)

      There are several large sections of boards scattered about the yard. (I do not see steel roof sheeting as in reality.) There are also sections of tar paper (which I have not seen in real life since the 1970s).

      An unknown Hispanic male, apparently our closest neighbor, comes over to look at the damage. He exhibits a cheerful and helpful attitude. My dream self automatically correlates with the factor of non-lucid dream control (with no discernible trigger) and I start to realize that I can will the roof to become whole again. Pieces of the roof fly up and go back onto our house so that the roof is complete. At one point, I hold onto small rods that are part of the foundation of the house and wiggle them around as the top of the house rebuilds itself. (This is an attempt to reinduce my dream or to get more sleep, as it represents the vertical pipe of the outdoor faucet near the front of our house in reality.) I wake shortly after this. There is no exploration of indoors in this dream. It all takes place outdoors.

      Readability score: 73 (likely to be understood by a reader who has at least a 7th-grade education).

    4. Tornado!

      by , 05-06-2018 at 09:52 AM
      Morning of September 13, 1970. Sunday.

      Preparatory RAS mediation begins as a result of liminal anticipation of vestibular system correlation, taking autosymbolic form as my dream. This is one of my favorite dreams from childhood.

      In my dream’s backstory, a tornado is approaching the town of Arcadia from the south. I do not perceive it as a potential threat to my home in Cubitis, which is about five miles north of Arcadia. It seems to remain late morning throughout my dream.

      An unknown dark-haired male of about thirty has a small information station set up as a public service, which mostly only features an elevated podium and a large easel to his left (my right in viewing the scene from my room’s west jalousie windows). The location is in the same area in front of Kenny and Karen’s home, at the end of their driveway, where Highway Seventeen runs perpendicularly to it. This is where we had waited for the school bus during some semesters. There are about a dozen people, all adults, standing and facing west. The man (facing my direction with his head and shoulders about three feet above the heads of the small group he is speaking to) is showing and discussing the details of a “tornado” of which the easel is displaying, but the image of which is solely a series of sparsely drawn black horizontal lines on a plain white background, each line being longer from bottom to top. I am only vaguely puzzled by how this arrangement of lines does not really look like a tornado other than as a suggestion of a tornado’s general shape. I remain in my room as this presentation continues on the other side of the highway.

      My focus eventually shifts to Brenda (schoolmate, neighbor, and close friend), and this thought creates a new setting. I am then in my primary school’s playground in morning daylight. The tornado is arriving from the southwest, somehow without any implication of wind, though still perceived as a danger to my schoolmates, yet not me. I am on the south side of the hexagonal merry-go-round and I perceive that I need to save my schoolmates.

      I take hold of a metal bar of the merry-go-round and begin running in a circle to counteract the tornado, by turning the merry-go-round in the opposite direction of which the tornado is spinning. At this point, despite my young age, I am vaguely aware of “vestibular system equilibrium”, though I am only liminally lucid.

      In knowing the cause of the autosymbolism of this dream, my dream self experienced liminal dream control and modulation over the transpersonal band of the preconscious, which as a result, softened the waking experience rather than resulting in a hypnopompic waking start such as a falling sensation, hypnopompic kick, or a more dramatic rendering of dream self cessation as is quite common and is otherwise just a biological factor of the waking transition. The main purpose of a dream is to resolve the waking stage itself and to correlate the illusory dream self with the conscious self identity.

      What are reasons for some of the other autosymbolism of which did not seem to be a result of the vestibular system correlation in the final scene? The “teacher” discussing the “anatomy” of a tornado was in a location where I usually wait for the bus to go to school. I do not go to school on Sunday, so this rendering of the personified unconscious seemed like a logical choice to establish this status, especially as the viewpoint was from my bed (bed dream state indicator). (I still ended up in my school’s playground in the last scene, though, by liminal choice.) As I was the liminal essence of the dream state itself, there was no perceived threat (against me), even by a tornado.

      On a spiritual level, I was also creating the model of a Merkaba, which I will not go into here as it would require too many additional paragraphs. Aside from the typical vestibular system correlation of the dream state itself, I additionally consider this dream as having a prescient marker due to the date (Zsuzsanna’s birthday), my rescue of her validated “stand-in” (Brenda), and the Merkaba model.

    5. Invisible Tornado

      by , 05-05-2018 at 08:50 AM
      Morning of July 27, 1974. Saturday.

      In my dream, I am in the southwest bedroom of my home in Cubitis in late morning and looking out our jalousie windows (south wall) toward the southwest. I am aware of my mother sitting in the room, more to my left and behind me as I stand close to the windows. She is possibly sewing. There is a backstory; by way of a radio broadcast, the radio also behind me and to my left; of a storm or tornado (actually recalled as a “tornado watch” being in effect) of which is approaching from the southwest. My anticipation of its approach increases, yet I am not frightened or even concerned.

      When the “tornado” arrives, it is completely invisible. There is no visible evidence of wind outside despite my understanding that the tornado is present. All I see and vividly feel is our house lifting up gently from the ground and floating north for several feet, with no discernible damage to the structure of the house. My physical location by the windows is never disrupted in any way.

      I feel somewhat amused, even relaxed, and consider that this is the last part of the storm as the house continues to float in the air about three feet above the ground. Lisa’s house remains as it was.

      Explaining the meaning of a tornado in a dream as autosymbolism for vestibular system correlation: I am aware of liminally controlling my dream, though without lucidity, even though vestibular system correlation occurs in the majority of my dreams (both lucidly and non-lucidly) at one point or another. Ultimately, this dream is not very different than lucid flying dreams. Last review on: Saturday, 5 May 2018.

      Tags: tornado
    6. Sideways Tornado

      by , 04-09-2018 at 10:09 AM
      Morning of April 9, 2018. Monday.

      My family and I as we appear now are living in Cubitis (where I have not lived since 1978; Zsuzsanna and our children have never been to America). However, the house’s essence is like our present home in real life. For example, the ceiling is similar to our present one in being narrow boards rather than white tiles. Marilyn (older half-sister on my mother’s side, died 2014) appears as she did in the 1960s (when we lived on Rose Street).

      In the first part of my dream, there is unfamiliar furniture in most of the rooms. I notice that a number of black and white photographs are on the floor, many of which are from the 1960s and feature my father and his other sons (my half-brothers). There is a lot of clutter in one area. This dream has an unusual offset dream of which returns to my original awareness in the first dream. It is something about one of my brothers (on my father’s side) wearing an iron mask, but it is more like a fictional scene from “The Man in the Iron Mask” (the 1998 movie) as regarding events from the 1970s involving his wife. The reason behind this (which I am not aware of in my dream) is the similarity of names, Leonard (my brother) and Leonardo (DiCaprio, the actor). Ultimately, this is just my dream making random false associations as is very often the case. This part reminds me somewhat of the Stadcor Street house before returning to the Cubitis living room.

      Marilyn is looking out the east windows of the living room. It seems to be late afternoon. She says, “The weather is getting really strange today.”

      I notice a tornado that is oriented horizontally in the sky and consider that it will move over the house just enough to possibly do some minor damage.

      When I go to the doorway of my Cubitis bedroom (on the opposite side of the house), I see part of the ceiling being torn off, more to my right. This makes no sense, because as I watch a section of the ceiling being lifted into the air and moving away to the west, into the sky, I also see that most of the tin roof is still present (of which had been above the ceiling and fairly close over it). I have a vague concern about the photographs becoming wet, but there is no rain yet. I also do not notice that the overall appearance of the room is completely different than from the first part of my dream.

      Orchestral music, as if from the ending of a movie, begins to play. (Curiously, this has happened in a number of my dreams, usually only during the last scene.) It fills the environment but I do not consider it as unusual or needing a source.

      “Make sure you keep Baby (our youngest daughter) close to you,” I advise Zsuzsanna and wake after saying this.

      Updated 11-27-2019 at 11:20 AM by 1390

      Tags: tornado
    7. Eating a Tornado in Arcadia

      by , 08-06-2017 at 02:06 PM
      Morning of August 6, 2017. Sunday.

      I am wandering about in Arcadia, looking for someone or something. I am in a state of instinctual dream control, without lucidity.

      I am certain that I am looking at a rendering of a real location in Arcadia, as if I was assuming to be looking at a full scale model. It is the south area of Tinsley’s IGA as it was in the early 1970s. Even though I am certain that what I am looking at is “perfect”, there is a line of post office boxes extending out through the parking lot from the building. This post office wall is missing the post office box doors so as one can look directly through the structure. It does not seem wrong to me at all despite the odd distortion.

      My mind wanders to thoughts of former schoolmates and neighbors, but there is not much cohesiveness.

      Looking through a restaurant window, I notice a female of about thirty sitting at a round table. I am certain this is my former neighbor. Also present is an unfamiliar male and young boy who I think might be her husband and son. She notices me and comes out to the front of the restaurant. When I talk to her, she says she does not know me. She says, “My name is Angel”. I start to consider that she had changed her name so as never to be associated with me later on in life, which does not really bother me (even though I do not yet have any viable current conscious self memory).

      An unknown young male is soon present and says, “Your obsessions with each other in youth no longer have any purpose.”

      Somewhat annoyed by this imposing stranger, I vertically twirl my middle finger. Over time, a white tornado descends into the parking lot, coming down directly upon me, but posing no threat. (I watch it form from the beginning, as clouds begin to slowly spiral in the sky above.) Other people are tossed out of its path and yet I find it amusing that others might think it could pose a threat and I consider they are jumping out of the way on purpose without realizing what it really is. I then allow the tip of the tornado to enter my mouth.

      “Don’t eat that,” advises someone a few minutes later. The tornado remains white and fluffy. I continue to remain in the area, not remotely impressed by the essence of the tornado, realizing that I create the patterns of weather. (Again, no lucidity is present - only subliminal threads of knowing I am the creator of it, yet not realizing or remembering what a dream is.)

      I eat a lot of the tornado as its form continues downward, and it has a mix of bread and mild chocolate flavor. Again, someone else says that I should not be eating the tornado. I notice that some of what I had been eating is more like a cottony rope and I spit some of it out. I decide that I may not eat any more even though I was going to just to annoy any strangers who thought I should not.

      Alec Baldwin, the actor, probably about forty, comes along and looks down cheerfully at the remains of the tornado. “I’ll eat that,” he happily says. I embrace my wife Zsuzsanna and we walk off together, though I still do not catch on that I am in the dream state even after eating most of a tornado.

      Updated 09-08-2019 at 09:40 AM by 1390

    8. Beautiful Tornadoes

      by , 04-30-2015 at 10:30 AM
      Morning of April 30, 2015. Thursday.

      This was an extraordinarily beautiful dream in every way even though it was about numerous tornadoes. The mood and essence of the imagery was near-ecstatic and the vividness was of the type where it seemed like a real environment in almost every way. It even colored my mood to where I feel a residual joyous nature and optimism.

      In the first part of my dream, my family and I are living back on Barolin Street. We have different neighbors (the houses also being closer together than in reality) and across and parallel to the street is only a set of elevated railroad tracks about as high as a one-storey house and about fifteen feet from the street (the rest of the area being just grass). At first, there is a point where I marvel at the wind and its sound. It is a very strange and eerie sound but I am not concerned and in fact feel quite joyous when walking into the living room where my family is. I notice the neighbor’s curtains are blowing nearly horizontally out at least one open window. (I am mostly only aware of the neighbors to the north.)

      Looking outside from the front porch later to check on the weather, I look to the south and see a few very light gray tornadoes forming. They are rather small and thin and soon seem detached from the clouds above them and seem both transparent and shiny. They follow a path on the other side of our street, moving in our direction. I start telling my family about the tornadoes but they do not seem as if they will cause much damage or go directly near our house (even though one clips the porch later in my dream). Even the wind they produce is not really that strong even though the sound is clear and loud. An unknown person (not a neighbor) sees me on the porch and as we talk, he says they are crayolas and not tornadoes and therefore supposedly not nearly as dangerous. However, large tornadoes do seem to be forming and going by us on the opposite side of the street. The imagery is mysterious and beautiful and it seems to be nighttime at this point.

      A neighbor comes over and begins talking with me about the unusual weather (he seems concerned about what to do) and I mention that there are more tornadoes coming. He seems a bit confused and slightly annoyed and says that he is from New York and had not lived in Australia very long. It seems odd to me that he does not know at all what tornadoes are or what they look like. Although he is friendly, he seems a bit frustrated with our communications over time, not seeming to know anything at all about the region or the culture.

      At one point, I notice what looks somewhat like a white squarish airplane on the ground across the street (more to the north) and point it out to him. I notice and describe the yellow and black diagonal lines on each side of the back area. About six or seven men are around it, seemingly picking supplies up from the ground and checking the vehicle. I soon realize that it may not be an airplane but some sort of rescue truck that went off the road. The imagery seems rather ambiguous. More tornadoes pass. One of them goes right across the front of the porch but does no damage.

      For several minutes, the weather seems to calm a bit, but then I see another tornado moving alongside the elevated railroad tracks (but still touching ground) and making a loud clacking by pulling at the railroad ties and overall structure, much like the sound of a train moving over the tracks. This seems amusing to me and I even mention this to the neighbor. (I have heard in real life that a tornado sounds like an approaching train.) When I look out again later, I notice that a train has been derailed and is very close to our porch, the yellow caboose (hanging at about a twenty-degree angle) seeming suspended on a portion of ruined railing and debris to the left of the porch door. This part of my dream changes though, as it is not there later on. (I get the impression that I will mentally throw it to the other side of the street though I am not yet lucid.) An ambulance goes north at one point, very clearly and loudly.

      At one point, I notice a female and about four or five of her younger children, who are apparently trying to escape by going north of the main tornadoes. At one point, they are lying over the street (heads mostly to the north) on their stomachs but not badly injured. I converse with the mother about what is going on and if they will be needing any help. It seems they will be okay. More tornadoes are coming, all of them beautiful and with almost “musical” howling.

      I watch for what seems like a very long time. Even though I thought it had been nighttime at most points, the sky is eventually blue with white clouds to both the north and the south and it then seems to be “suddenly” late morning. However, weird dark clouds, almost like hands and fingers (each finger being a thin tornado, growing longer and sometimes at an odd angle), quickly form out of nowhere and the sky goes very dark again. This seems very strange and beautiful to me, but I start talking about how this cannot be normal weather.

      At this point, the neighbors to the north (the unknown male I had talked to earlier, now with his wife and at least three children) come out and we all eventually go into my backyard for some reason, probably over concerns of our houses being destroyed. The male asks me why my wife and I had impersonated him when they had first moved in, seeming a bit amused but also frustrated (and slightly condescending in a religious or moral sense) about our behavior towards him. I have some sort of false memory to my dream’s back story (which had not actually occurred to my knowledge) that we had mimicked things he said in the manner he said them. The idea of saying “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery” to soothe his possible dislike of my family comes to mind, but I do not say it aloud.

      In the last scene, I finally start to become lucid. I start to say aloud in my dream that it is a dream because the sky, as well as the weather in general, could not be like this in reality. I look to the south and see the dark clouds forming a penguin shape as if someone was making a crayon drawing in the sky. Other unusual cloud patterns occur, mostly to the southeast. “This is a dream,” I say to the other male’s wife. For a short time, her body becomes invisible as she is walking while her head floats along in midair. My family remains of normal appearance as we are walking around while I point out the impossibilities of the patterns in the sky.

      Even though I am lucid at this point and my dream remains as vivid as it had been since the start, it is not a full lucidity, but skewed with faulty reasoning. I know for certain that I am in a dream yet also have this clear idea that everyone else (equally “real” as I am in my dream) is in the “same” dream. Right at the mental threshold of the contemplation of turning this into an erotic adventure, I wake instantly, probably because my dream had already been extremely long at this point. Still, upon waking, I feel joyous, healthy, and energized.

      Again, this dream has the sky becoming as if someone is coloring in a penguin. One of the photographs my sister sent recently (with no way of me knowing ahead of time that she would send me anything) is an old photograph which has me coloring in a penguin in a coloring book as a boy (which had been taken by my mother and sent to her at that time).

      Updated 08-19-2016 at 10:07 AM by 1390

    9. Tornado Encounter (La Crosse) vestibular-cerebral

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

      Dream #: 17,507-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min.

      My dream starts with a vague backstory of anger in a grocery store or other business. I am unsure of what had occurred. An unknown man with whom I seem to have been annoyed comes out to shake his fist at me. I fly away to relax. I rise slowly, gaining more speed as I fly above the streets.

      I land in Northside La Crosse, within a few blocks south of the Loomis Street house. A tornado approaches from the northwest. I walk into a narrow alley with tall buildings adjacent to each side (a fictitious setting). The twister seems sentient as it turns to approach my location, but I feel unthreatened. It cannot come into the narrow alley. The wind is strong but does not harm me. I stand near the end of the alleyway, enjoying the realistic sensations. It eventually “decides” to leave the area to move west up the street. (I am instinctually aware I am controlling it.)

      I decide to check up on my relatives who live in the area without recall that most of them had died. The street is instead a bridge of about ten feet high. I walk across it to instinctually vivify my imaginary physicality. What looks like huge cooked spaghetti strands, about the size of sections of garden hose, cover the lawns. They are supposedly the physical remnants of the tornado.

      Before full wakefulness, I recall a comic book story (possibly from “Spooky The Tuff Little Ghost”) featuring a tornado made of spaghetti.

      Updated 06-14-2020 at 05:41 PM by 1390

    10. Tornado Portal (Subtle Merkaba Prophecy)

      by , 04-09-1984 at 10:09 AM
      Morning of April 9, 1984. Monday.

      I was in bed, listening to The Alan Parsons Project’s “Tales of Mystery and Imagination: Edgar Allan Poe”. I imagined the imagery and detail. It was one of my favorite cassettes of the time, along with their “I Robot” album.

      In one vivid dream of the “mystery girl”, the petite Persian Hungarian gypsy girl from Australia (with a curious mixed accent) with the beautiful green eyes and dark curly hair, there is a storm coming; a large tornado. This, for whatever reason, does not concern me all that much.

      As the tornado gets closer, I do feel a slight wariness. The tornado is the lower half of the Merkaba in dreams, and at other levels, is the unknown future or “destiny” if you will. On another level it is the energies of the supraconscious (Universal Mind) in connecting with other levels of consciousness as perceived by the conscious mind; that is, other “realms” of mind and supraconscious exchanging energies as a new force as with a cold front meeting a warm front in causing wind and stormy weather. As I am at least partly lucid, I am not worried about being killed. Once I step into the tornado I see a beautiful young girl and recognize her as my “dream girl”. She leans back on a bed and as I approach her (in this case, I somehow see myself approaching her) there is a sense of wholeness. It is almost as if I rose above the tornado and looked down into it, where everything was clear and blue, a circular portal; an image of fulfillment.

      In a dream within a dream, I am seemingly Edgar Allan Poe in a way. My dream journals are so extensive that I have indexes within indexes, often copied to new journals with additional important observations and notes added. A raven wants to be fed stale undercooked hamburger, which it seems to like more than bologna or canned fish. I seem to receive a very important “warning” related to not allowing “ordinary” people to influence me in any way and not allow them to “interpret” not only my dreams, but even ideas I develop over time out of life experiences. I sensed an unusual idea that other people one day, around the world, would see a small part of my childhood dream work as well as other writing. Of course, this seemed like a preposterous idea. How could one just “show their dreams on television for others to watch” whenever they felt like it? Perhaps the advancements of computers could achieve this? Likely far too expensive for the average person to ever be feasible…

      One person said that the tornado was related to my “mental turmoil” (though I had less “turmoil” than others I knew) over my pretense that I would be married to a beautiful girl and have children within ten years or so. The raven was perhaps a burden, it was claimed, a “shadowy presence” representing despair, “a shadow hanging over me”. However, in my dreams, my two youngest “fictional” children learn from the raven, which speaks to them of the patterns of life and nature. I supposed other people would have been happy over me never marrying who I considered the most beautiful girl on Earth in another country. People in general have mostly only “cop outs” to share, “cop outs” which never have any value, except in learning and knowing what not to do or what not to believe from others or society as a whole.

      Years later, in real life, after I married my dream girl, “our” raven sat on my chair watching me type on my computer. My two healthy and loving children enjoyed having a raven in the house for a few weeks until I decided it was fully healed (from a non-fatal dog attack) enough to fly on its own. It still came back and said “hi” now and then…but there was one time at the computer, when I reached behind me to give it a piece of raw stale hamburger and gave it a pat that I thought of the potential for the majority of “ordinary” human beings to ever accept the truth…or in fact, have any credibility at all. I almost thought I heard the raven quote (deep in the recesses of my mind) “nevermore”.

      Updated 12-02-2015 at 07:32 AM by 1390

      lucid , memorable
    11. Tornadopillar

      by , 04-03-1982 at 10:03 AM
      Morning of April 3, 1982. Saturday.

      I am in La Crosse, Wisconsin on the south side of town and west of the main library. There are a number of other people around, mostly unknown. There is a tornado coming in our direction (from the southwest), or so it seems for several minutes. I can hear the train-like rumbling sounds (like with a real tornado but which may be caused by real environmental noise such as louder traffic while sleeping). I am with some friends and we and the other people are eventually running everywhere, though mostly north.

      All of a sudden, there is a strange screeching sound (again, possibly caused by real-life environmental sounds intruding into my dream without waking me, such as a vehicle’s brakes squealing). We look back and it turns out to have been an enormous caterpillar spinning a cocoon and was not a tornado. Everything is quiet now that the caterpillar has entered this stage and is vertically oriented within the giant cocoon, apparently sleeping and not threatening in any way. Additionally, I get the impression that it was not actually chasing us. We just happened to originally be in the area it was coincidentally moving towards during the faux chase. Eventually, I become semi-lucid and personally indulge in sensual pleasures in an offset scenario until I choose to wake.

      Resupplemented for a clearer and more detailed explanation on Saturday, 2 December 2017.

      There are really two levels to this dream, a natural (biological) ordinary meaning and a spiritual meaning if one is so inclined. On the natural level, a tornado is a factor of RAS and inner ear dynamics as precursory waking symbolism, an extreme augmentation analogous to potential dizziness in real life. In this case, that aspect is validated by a second inner ear dynamic, the potential butterfly flight symbol, which is “frozen” and thus as a result, triggering lucidity against the subdued RAS factor (similar to the “frozen” bird silhouettes in more recent apex lucidity dreams). On one level of course, this dream was at least partly influenced by “Mothra” (a 1961 movie).

      Spiritually, tornadoes represent the powerful bottom half of the Merkaba (even in my earliest childhood dreams) and, due to the “raw force” of a tornado, relate to personal dream state alchemy. (In certain trance states of deep meditation, I vividly experience the Merkaba by touching my wife Zsuzsanna on the shoulder, the Merkaba of which appears as two blue tornadoes uniting, rotating in opposite directions, with extraordinarily vivid impressions which I can only describe as seeing hundreds of different wedding ceremonies of different cultures and eras.) The transition from tornado to caterpillar-in-cocoon implies a waiting stage prior to changing into a butterfly (a type of personal ascension or implying the state of readiness for meeting my “dream girl” in real life).

      Susan R (the only person other than Zsuzsanna of whom I could ever sense as existing on other levels) and Zsuzsanna (before I knew she was a real person) drew identical vertically-oriented anthropomorphic caterpillars in a top hat (as if one had been traced over the other with even the same stray line) as a part of an otherwise dissimilar story. (One of my relatives was scared and angered by seeing this as most ordinary people do not like the unexplained, though over time, changed their way of thinking and was eventually glad I had found my “dream girl” after so many precise clues over so many years.)

      “The caterpillar makes an appearance in a few other places outside ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’, such as 'American McGee’s Alice’ and the novel 'The Looking-Glass Wars’; in both of these spin-offs he plays the role of an oracle.”

      Updated 12-02-2017 at 01:10 PM by 1390

      dream fragment , lucid , non-lucid , memorable
    12. “You Can’t Die” (Kittens in a Blanket and a Tornado)

      by , 08-07-1979 at 02:07 PM
      Morning of August 7, 1969. Thursday.

      I am in the backyard of my Cubitis home at some time during late morning. The sun is shining and the weather seems fine overhead. However, to the east, beyond the railroad tracks and the expansive farmland, is a tornado, heading straight towards my home. In the area farther out towards the tracks and where we usually burn rubbish in real life, is what looks like an old worn plaid blanket (which is dirty and with a few holes) within the unburnt trash and ashes. There are at least six or seven recently born kittens on the blanket squirming around, a few noticeably calico. I do not know where they came from, but they seem to be my responsibility. There is an ambiguous awareness of being indoors looking down at a bed, even though I am also aware of being outside in a different location at the same time.

      “You can’t die,” I say fairly softly and mournfully (though without any perceived personal worry), hearing my own young voice very clearly and vividly. I plan to take them from the area with no thought of anything else. I am almost lucid, but slowly wake.

      Understanding the dream state and the biological nature of RAS mediation will help in understanding a dream’s real meaning to rise above the erroneous concept of “interpretation” in the popular misuse of the term. There are obvious clues here.

      Firstly, a tornado is a common dream feature for me, not always threatening, and was validated in childhood to be, at the mundane level (though there is also the spiritual association regarding the Merkaba), autosymbolism based on the naturally ambiguous dynamics of the vestibular system loosely associated with the dizziness of spinning even when this is not a direct factor, though of course avoiding a tornado is related to avoiding the faux vertigo of liminal space. This means that my dream self has a subliminal awareness of being in the dream state. What are some other clues? The kittens in the blanket are another clue. A blanket being rendered means I am probably subliminally aware I am asleep (without my conscious self identity being within the dream state itself).

      Additionally, saying “You can’t die” is another dream state indicator from “If I die before I wake”, from a “prayer” that I never even considered uttering at any point in my childhood (even though some children supposedly utter this “prayer” prior to sleep, but what kind of a parent would allow this, I cannot even imagine it), though I had heard about it around the time of this dream. Thank goodness I was born into a family that did not practice such a grim ritual.

      Updated 04-18-2018 at 08:01 PM by 1390

      Tags: kittens, tornado
    13. In the Wind

      by , 05-19-1972 at 02:08 PM
      Night of May 19, 1972. Friday.

      In this dream, there was a hurricane occurring and it may be early morning. At the time it started to become more noticeable, I was outside near my Cubitis house in the northern section of the yard as well as walking in the carport, and as the wind became stronger, I somehow ended up holding onto the north-facing incline of the shed roof in the area closer to the entrance and yet not being carried away by the strong wind. (This scene, however, would not have been possible in reality, as the roof was smooth tin and had no features to hold on to.) Most of the roof remained stable and mostly undamaged as well other than at least one sheet of tin flying off. The wind seemed to last a long time. At one point, it is as if I am seeing myself clutching at the shed roof near the apex (peak) or at least lying upon the incline (the entire shed of which my father built) while looking from my disembodied self’s right (by which my perspective seems to be from floating slightly more northward of the scene). I can even see “swirly mostly horizontal curved lines” (as if in a comic strip) that supposedly represent the forces of the wind. I am not sure what the fate is of any other people in the region including my parents. Perhaps I will be the only one left? The thought of being the only person left causes me to wonder how I will get food and fend for myself though there is also an odd sense of comfort at one point, which continues to grow, probably do to emerging lucidity (and being grateful I am only dreaming), though nothing occurs after this.

      Wind most often represents the passage of time or a concern with the passage of time (aging). This dream may also simply represent the waking process while trying to “hold onto the dream state” and not wanting to yet get on with the real-life day’s unfolding. Many other storm, hurricane, or tornado dreams may relate to trying to hold onto the dream state or even a particular level of consciousness, thus a storm comes to wake you (depending on what part of the dream the storm occurs in).

      On a side note, the first actual storm of this time period was Subtropical Storm Alpha (also called Alfa) on May 23, 1972 though I never concluded this was precognitive in any sense.
      Tags: roof, tornado, wind
    14. Run from the Twister

      by , 11-19-1971 at 05:19 PM
      Night of November 19, 1971. Friday.

      Dream #: 1,796-02. Reading time: 1 min 40 sec.

      While in the Cubitis house’s living room, I hear on my mother’s radio (her pale green one that was sometimes atop our refrigerator) about a twister approaching from the west. I am concerned that Brenda does not know about it. I plan to go to her house to get her so that we can escape from it. (I do not see or consult my parents even though I am only ten years old, though this was typical in my childhood dreams.)

      As with the majority of my dreams, features are incorrect without my dream self’s realization that they are. In this case, Brenda’s house is incorrectly east of my house (where the cow pasture is in real life) rather than north of it. Also, Arcadia is east of my home rather than south.

      As the tornado is approaching, I go into Brenda’s house without knocking and say hello to her. (Neither her parents nor brothers are present.) We are suddenly in her kitchen. She looks annoyed with me and moves around a table to avoid me. I convince her of the danger, and she happily comes with me. We manage to avoid the tornado. It is seemingly a result of running in specific directions and being in particular places for a time, even though we seem to backtrack at times.

      In the last scene, we are sitting at a big water fountain in an unknown city that seems to be a newly built resort. (The twister had supposedly destroyed it, but it was somehow quickly rebuilt while we were traveling. The tornado was there before us even though we were running from the opposite direction).

      We eat sandwiches that had been in transparent sandwich bags (that it seems we were carrying even though this backstory did not have a foundation) and smile happily in the knowledge the worst is over. I have a vague sense we may be near Disney World. (It would be in a different location in reality as it seems we are not that far east of my house.)

      My dream coincided with the opening of Disney’s Fort Wilderness Resort and Campground in Orlando, Florida. I might have heard about it, so I am uncertain if it was a precognitive factor.

      The fountain and surrounding area now make me think of one of the first public places I went with my wife Zsuzsanna in Brisbane in 1994. It was like in my dream and with the same cheerful essence when I was with Zsuzsanna.

    15. King of the Birds

      by , 01-15-1971 at 07:15 AM
      Night of January 15, 1971. Friday

      This is not the same as the “The Buzzard who Would Be King” dream, although it has vaguely similar concept. In this one, I am fully in-dream. I walk out onto the carport in Cubitis, seemingly late at night, and notice that the house seems to be “flying” in the clouds or actually caught up in a twister like a scene from “The Wizard of Oz”. Everything has an “energized” feel, including the very air around me. I am almost lucid, but not quite. A man-sized bird flies suddenly down from the east end of the carport and stands looking at me as with seemingly an intent to “save” me or become my friend. I sense that he is the “king” of the birds. In fact, he even wears a crown. (I assume the bird is male.) I originally believed this bird to be representing a hawk (but could also be a variation on my view of buzzards “dominating” my dreams for a time - this one being far more positive in association). Technically it was modeled after the animated Woggle-Birds from “Jack and the Beanstalk” (1967). The bird does not talk in this dream. This was one of a few dreams I used for my “King of the Birds” story in fifth grade that was “published” in a mimeograph format - and by which Bobby G informed me that “birds can’t talk” while his story was about anthropomorphic trees going to school, getting married, talking, and having babies. This is a good example of the bizarre irony and people I have dealt with all my life. It is the story I autographed for classmate Susan R (the “other” - that is, the only other person in my life whom I had a strange “paranormal” link to in real life).

      There is nothing at all threatening about the dream, either the bird or the strange weather or even being inside a tornado fairly high in the sky (or the thought of it in this dream state, anyway). This is quite possibly an early version or “clue” (of which I had thousands) of the Corona Borealis and Corona Australis plot by way of the meeting of the “birds” from America and Australia according to one source, particularly as a possible Yin force reference relative to the implied spiral of tornadoes in some of my early dreams.
      Tags: carport, hawk, tornado
      lucid , memorable