• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    Blue_Opossum

    1. Escaping back to where I started

      by , 12-12-2017 at 07:50 PM
      Morning of December 12, 2017. Tuesday.



      In this dream, there is the transition to water reinduction (water as symbolizing sleep), though my conscious self identity is virtually nonexistent. Even being in the Loomis Street house’s backyard, there is not even the association with my relatives who lived there for years. While in the backyard near the alley (where I have not been in real life since February 1994), there are a number of unfamiliar characters. There is something about going somewhere, another country perhaps, and we start our journey.

      The Loomis and Gillette Street area transform into some sort of distorted wharf, which I believe is meant to be with the ocean on the left (even though Wisconsin is nowhere near the ocean in reality). All of the people we meet are dark-skinned and may be Sri Lankan (which I seem to recall being said as such in my dream). They are all males in their twenties, supposedly refugees. It is illegal for us to be there or walk over the wharf to wherever it is we are going. That will apparently not stop us though and our group walks over the long wharf. Still, the other males are very friendly even though they seem slightly confused that we are not like them. I start talking to them in Spanish, “Cuando salga el sol me despertaré”. (“When the sun rises I will wake” - note that I am not viably aware I am dreaming.) I repeat “cuando” several times, as a question. They only shrug and smile.

      There is an area where a doorway is too narrow to go through. I do something to where we continue from near the right of it, though it does not make any sense. It seems as if I somehow moved the doorway itself by “sliding” it with my hand.

      From here, I am riding in a van, on the front passenger side, on the right (implying America). The driver of this van is riding a motorcycle a car length ahead of the van (which makes no sense at all, but this is how it is experienced).

      The port authorities are now following us. Because we had gone through the restricted area that held refugees, we are to be captured and shot, no matter where we decide to go or live. The man on the motorcycle is shot once and splits into several pieces, rolling over the road, the van I am in continuing to apparently drive itself. I do not feel very emotional.

      After traveling a long distance, miles away from the Loomis Street house’s backyard, I find myself back on Loomis Street, in the Loomis Street house’s kitchen (likely due to mild hunger in sleep). Of course, this makes no sense either.

      I am presumably the last one of my group left. I now have a very vague emergent awareness of relatives having lived on Loomis Street years ago, though no current conscious self identity. An unknown male comes into the kitchen from the south room to shoot me. I decide that this is RAS mediation (even though I am not lucid) and that he is the preconscious factor and thus I shoot him first and then soon wake. I will not tolerate being victimized in my own dream, even when there is no viable thread of current conscious self identity.


    2. Of Magic Matchbox Cars and Intoxicating Clam Shells

      by , 10-07-2017 at 12:31 PM
      Morning of October 7, 2017. Saturday.



      This dream has a thread of a consciously created type. However, it is sustained into non-lucidity, which always skews the pattern. In a previous dream, I used, “I invite the healing power of Universal Love into all areas of our lives”. For this one, I used, “I invite the infinite healing power of Universal Mind into all areas of our bodies” and changing it to “my body” in some sequences. As long-term readers would already know, I never post fully scripted dreams online, as there would be no point. However, I do post certain dreams of apex lucidity and dreams of this nature with singular or dual scripting threads that skew into amusing distortions. (Also, a fully scripted dream would have consciously created environmental details as well as visual details and situational details, not just a foundational affirmation as here.)

      I find myself in the dream state, but unlike with apex lucidity and sustained hypnagogia, my lucidity and conscious self identity is soon absent. The affirmation thread becomes a literal thread in my dream, that is, a string attached to the front bumper of a Matchbox car. (The string, sometimes a rope, is a method I use to go in and out of the dream state, symbolic of the “line of communication” with my conscious self identity, which typically disintegrates in the non-lucid dream state when it is replaced by my clueless personified subconsciou as my dream self.)

      This Matchbox car is a 1930s convertible. At times, even without being lucid, I will it to again become a “real” full-sized automobile that I drive around in an unknown large city. I drive it rapidly through various streets to where there is a focus on the idea of being stopped for speeding. Still, the police are always going in the opposite direction. At one point, I shrink the car back down and walk to an area near a wharf.

      The wharf is rendered rather curiously. It is at the side of the road where there is a ladder down to a small platform which is adjacent to a commercial building. An unknown black male is now present as well as my wife Zsuzsanna. There is a comment made by an unknown female who also comes to the area. It relates to my magic Matchbox car. She wants to know if she can borrow it to sail across the ocean. I consider this (without realizing that “sailing the ocean” is dream symbolism for dreaming itself). At this point, I will the car to become just large enough for her to fit in it and I place it on a raft that appears. Still, I consider that the mode of transportation is not stable enough, so I tell her that I do not think it is a reliable way to travel. Curiously, my hand seems to be as big as the raft as I test it for how much weight it can hold as well as its buoyancy dynamics.

      I am standing on the side of the road and the other male wants to borrow my car. I whistle for my Matchbox car and it arrives (from the other side of town) and grows to normal size. He gives me a roll of one-dollar notes. When he returns, I feel I should give him something in return. I hand him the handwritten affirmation (without realizing what it is) that had been in my wallet. I give him some other documents that feature unusual writing and symbols.

      My awareness shifts slightly, but I do not become lucid. I end up going into a large cave which is ambiguously rendered with the dynamics of a room in a house. A tunnel, more like a long hallway, leads to the opening. I whistle for my Matchbox car again and notice the end of the string near the mouth of my cave. I pull my Matchbox car into the cave using the string. (The car in this case is dual symbolism that represents my real physical body as well as the consciously created affirmation of which is still extant, but subliminal in this level of dream state awareness).

      There is an opening in the wall to the left (when inside the cave) of the entrance. (“On the left” typically relates to dream state induction or reinduction while right is the direction waking symbolism is oriented towards, at least for me, as I usually sleep on my left side, so any sort of waking prompt or biological RAS factor would naturally be perceived on the side more exposed and “open”; my right; kind of obvious, though I have considered additional factors of why this is - as in reading English and linear time as being from left to right, as well as right being my strongest side, though governed by the left hemisphere of the brain.)

      I discover a number of ancient artifacts and fossils. One is a ritual clam shell that is covered (and somehow seems to generate) an unusual intoxicating powder. This is a “healing powder” that cavemen used in prehistoric times. Although I have never been an active drug user in real life as such, I continue to slap the clam shell against my ears to become more and more intoxicated, feeling more and more bliss and comfort.

      After a time, while I am seated on the floor of the “cave”, a shadowy caveman figure approaches, though he is more like an ancient ape with a manlike essence. He briefly touches me on the shoulder and knee and seems of a positive presence. He is more like a loving spirit or ancient “ghost” and walks on to another part of the cave.

      Soon, a classmate from years ago, Steve J, and at least three others, walks down the hallway into my cave. I tell them about the artifacts and special powder and ask if they would like to improve their minds and bodies with this “healing powder”.



      This dream only serves to validate what I have already known for over twenty years. Somehow, my unconscious mind cannot distinguish between the word “power” and “powder” (which sometimes appears as flour, a play on “flower” and dual distortion of the “flowing of power”). (This is kind of moot as most people who are not fully conscious cannot even correctly recite the alphabet or count to twenty.) Still, my unconscious has seemingly selected a “convenient” physical representation of “power” which is otherwise an abstract concept that could not be efficiently rendered in the dream state anyway, so I am not complaining. Since an affirmation is something heard by the ears, at least this explains why I am slapping the clam shells against my ears, which of course, is a metaphor for hearing an affirmation via headphones.


      Updated 10-25-2017 at 07:52 AM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid
    3. Ocean Carousel

      by , 07-04-1978 at 12:39 PM
      Night of July 4, 1968. Thursday. (The image on the left is me on that day. The other is my wife in January of 1989 before we made real-life contact.)



      Across the ocean “to the other side” (excluding Mexico) is in my thoughts and a real-life concept comes into play.

      Many children probably notice this, but in real life, when you are on a wharf looking down, and with the water flowing under you past the pillars and such, it sometimes “feels” like you are on a merry-go-round even though, of course, you are not moving (for example, it “feels” like it is the dock that is “moving” while the waves only react to that imagined movement of the dock - focusing on this idea enhances the false perception of movement almost - in my case - to the point of getting motion sickness). Looking down, I separate myself from the land and the shore - it is a strange sense of freedom. Of course when the sun sets (a bit “too quickly” - but time moves at various speeds in dreams, as well as jumping through events completely), the fireworks are, on some levels, like the energies of a carnival when the time “rushes” to that point.

      Being near the more dynamic ocean seems much more grand than the La Crosse carnivals I had been to not that long prior, where they have the little boat rides in a pool-like structure that is not much bigger than a few bathtubs in volume. This did not leave much impression on my dreams, it seems.

      This is “my” carousel. I am the only one on it - a “giant carousel” of conquest of a sort - better than a battleship. I can somehow travel to the “other side” of the ocean (technically the Gulf of Mexico - but I will just fly over Mexico or “try to” as in another - much later - dream where I was probably considering that it was “just in the way”). (Of course, in reality, that would have been Port Kembla where my wife was to be born several weeks from that particular day - but is only partly related to all the other facets that “self-built” themselves on many levels). I am not nervous about the ocean. There had been the earlier dreams about the two fighting sea monsters (actual prehistoric animals - but over-sized in the dream) preventing the completion of my sailing trip. In that case, I was only on a sailboat and the idea of a “giant” carousel or merry-go-round seemed more workable at this point.

      Not much happens. I get impressions of valleys and open skies and a sense of welcome solitude. I realize that I will have to cross “unimportant” land to get to open sea and start my “real journey”.

      In another dream, I am seemingly on some sort of complex (abandoned) battleship or more likely an odd structure near shore. I cannot quite put words to it but it all seems very familiar. Everything is sort of a teal color and there are many different tiers and a sense of antiquity. No one else is around anywhere (even in the whole region, it seems - it is almost like “all people are gone”). Much of the walking area is like a sort of metal grill (also teal) but not all. Some of the doors have vents on them that are somewhat window-like. I wander around but there are no other features other than very sparse aspects of things I have seen in movies with older submarines and such. The parts are almost like a group of random small rooms set at various heights over various metal staircases (not in any logical order), all the same shade of teal. This was a precursor to similar dreams that were populated, so to speak. I may write on those later.
      Tags: carousel, ocean, wharf
      Categories
      memorable