Blue_Opossum

Morning of August 28, 1971. Saturday.



I discover a seemingly prehistoric coral-like “garden” underground that I had dug out from our front yard and put in shallower cardboard boxes and tried to maintain in a few different areas of my room, mostly on my tables and dressers (perhaps one or more on my floor). These “plants” (including supposedly prehistoric sea fans) are all of various colors (each one only of one color), including Pepto Bismol pink (fairly common in childhood dreams), bright glowing yellows, and that brighter glow-in-the-dark green used most often for certain toy surprises in cereal. My prehistoric garden seems very special; beautiful and nostalgic for reasons I am not sure of. Each type of plant has its own specific color. There is also a purple one that sort of looks somewhat lightning-shaped, with a bumpy surface as well as orange sponge-like “rocks” but of which may grow larger over time. Some “plants” are more rock-like, sponge-like, or fern-like than others and some glow more than others (the purple ones glowing the least, the green ones the brightest, I think - almost in the proportionate manner of glow-in-the-dark colors in real life). I am very glad to have these special plants in my room. They comfort me and radiate a sense of peace.

This is an interesting situation and one of my most comforting and deeply felt dreams of this time period. Coming from underground implies exploring more deeply into the unconscious realm or taking something (a gift) from the unconscious realm or perspective or mood of the unconscious self (the memories as such defining a more harmonious and joyful coalescence into whole consciousness), the “prehistoric garden” perhaps analogous to human DNA, yet the way the plants glow (and how they are stored - in plain cardboard boxes for the most part) implies the essence of the conscious self (and the light of day analogy). The light remains at a certain level however, which may be why my dream seems to last so long (seemingly all night), almost analogous to a reassuring nightlight.

Morning of August 15, 1971. Sunday.



This (“Sideyard Burial”) is the original journal title. When my family had first moved to Cubitis, my father had eventually taken down a very large tree that was in the north side-yard that he was concerned might eventually fall on the house during a strong storm or hurricane. Later on, the stump (and most roots) was also taken out and for a time, it was an additional incidental “well” that was about six feet deep or so. It was filled in a few years later. I used to lie on my stomach and watch all the trapped toads come out from the recesses at the bottom when throwing down an earthworm or beetle or some such. Seeing them come out from different areas to go after the same potential meal was kind of fun at that time. It very vaguely reminded me of movies that had scenes of ancient Rome and gladiators.

Later on, that area was a place of mystery in a few dreams. There was a very long dream in which a feeling of strangeness was present and the actual body of Christ was buried there about five feet down or so. There was even something about an investigation of the scene. Mostly, I am aware of the skeletal hand and arm coming out from the side of the well. However, over time, it is only determined to be roots (even though there actually was the skeletal hand and arm in earlier scenes).

This is vaguely like a much later dream where the holy “bones” turned out to be plastic forks and such for picnic supplies - “The Temple and the Tomb (January 1996)”. The “burial” dream was fairly haunting in one sense but certainly not nightmarish. There have been a reasonable number of dreams where things changed in such a manner where something unusual or eerie turned out to be mundane, including the “vampire bat” to large moth in one older dream.

There was also a dream firstly from when I was four years old where a “bear” turned out to be a burned tree stump, which I saw later in an actual story in real life (that was very similar in some ways) - but this was also from a story my father had told me long before my dream which supposedly happened to someone he knew - that is, a friend mistaking a burned tree stump for a bear when they were out at night - an event that was probably fairly common and probably still happens now and then as people are always mistaking something for something else, especially at night.

There was also a dream (1973) where the Roanoke Colony (the “lost colony”) was camped out in that part of the yard (strange, considering that it was Florida). I watched them from the roof, watching the fire’s glow and the people standing about. I am aware that one of them - a toddler - is Virginia Dare, but that is also an association with a (deceased) sister named Virginia.

---

This dream is a generic DDR event where what is believed and somehow “reported” (by the media) to be the skeleton of Christ about six feet down (near an area where my father had removed a tree in real life) turns out to be plant roots. This is all seen as if incorporeal and with a sort of implied x-ray-like vision (though with natural visual details) through underground areas. There is much more to this one, though. This specific location was very rare in my dreams and the only other significant examples were specifically related to precognitive dreams concerning my “mystery girl” - again revealing her exact appearance before I made contact with her in reality, one where I fell down unable to move in the same orientation as the “bones” from my 1971 dream. Also, my oldest daughter’s birthday falls on this dream’s date, so I consider it to have at least two “markers”.

Saturday, 26 June 1971. 1,650-M2. 48 second read.



I soar through the blue sky alongside an American black vulture, but I am unwary.

He flies on my left until he dives. I expect him to attack the townspeople below. (There is a vague association with Shakespeare’s “King Lear.”)

The mood becomes cheerful. The “palace” far below appears to be the DeSoto County Courthouse. I hear people cheering and see a ticker-tape parade.

I see people carry the vulture down the building’s outer steps in a palanquin, as he immediately becomes their king. “Pomp and Circumstance” (“Graduation March Song”) plays.

I zoom in. From the left, I see the vulture sitting inside the palanquin. The bird has knees like a human instead of bird legs and wears a crown.

I rise into the blue sky as I wake up laughing aloud.

---

Note: People called vultures “buzzards” when I lived in Florida, thus my original title.

---

My dream begins with the physiological influence of vestibular-motor sensations (from REM atonia). It changes from spontaneous vestibular-motor responses to controlled and more defined.

The vulture’s flying and diving transitions to his non-flight (becoming more human-like) and descending a staircase.

A crown appears with increased dream state awareness. It reveals higher metacognitive management of the dream state.

---

Morning of May 16, 1971. Sunday.

Reading time: 1 min 42 sec. Readability score: 59.



In my dream, it seems to be early morning, about an hour before dawn. My mother and I are standing between two of the buildings at my elementary school, near the inward corner of one. We are the only people in the area. I am unsure why we are here, though I consider may relate to completing information in my school records. I am aware that it is the weekend and that school will not be in session today. We are looking toward the south.

I see a church about three blocks away. (In reality, the school building would be blocking such a view.) I can see its belfry in the semidarkness.

A big yellow bolt of lightning comes down from the sky, on the right of the tall church belfry. (It has an unrealistic appearance, as if from a cartoon.) It strikes it near the top, and flames begin to consume the tower.

My mother glares down at me as if I had caused the event by way of pyrokinesis and the ability to control the weather and guide lightning. Her silent accusation increases my focus and the vividness of my dream. (The presence of fire increases the awareness of my conscious self identity.)

“It’s not my fault,” I say, somewhat hesitantly (with a hint of self-doubt), and I remain unsure if my mother believes me.

---

The school setting is relevant to relearning one’s way back to the conscious self identity as in waking life. (This correlates with the subliminal desire to ignite the conscious self awareness for lucidity.) My mother is present by my side as the witness (RAS mediation), as she is the one who usually woke me during early childhood and my school years. The lightning is neural energy that increases awareness in the waking process of which also sometimes serves as a lucidity trigger by liminal intent. The belfry serves as an emerging consciousness representation (rising above the dream), and fire is consciousness.

Ultimately, this dream is an augmented factor of the “lighting a candle” metaphor to establish lucidity and dream state awareness. Dream control and lucidity are not dependent on each other contrary to popular misconception.

I believe that I have coherently explained every factor of this dream and its causes and meaning as the emerging consciousness initiation and non-lucid dream control. There was also influence from the Nancy Sinatra song “Lightning’s Girl.” That developed into associations with dream control, as I had imagined controlling lightning as relevant to the song (though this was a childhood misunderstanding as to what the song meant).

---

Morning of April 11, 1971. Sunday.

Dream #: 1,574-02. Reading time: 1 min 50 sec.



My best friend Toby Taylor and I enter a castle, though it becomes a hall of our school in appearance. No one else is around.

A narrative begins, implying each of us has to choose a different door. The inference is that one of us will win a valuable prize, and the other will gain nothing and may die.

Eventually, I pick the door on the left (with the number 1 on it), and Toby chooses the door on the right (that features the number 2).

After I open the door, I immediately find myself sliding down a big pile of gold coins. I feel happy as I look to my right and see Toby also cheerfully sliding down the same hill of gold coins at about the same speed I am. We excitedly grab clusters of them as we are sliding and let them flow between our fingers.

Eventually, from below us, there is a sound like a lion’s roar. I realize we are both sliding toward what may be the open mouth of a dragon. (Even so, the element of fear and surprise is minimal.) I start to wake around this time and consider that instead of a dragon, it may be a furnace or fireplace in a basement or boiler room. I also sense it is perpendicular to the direction we are sliding rather than in our path.

---

This dream interprets my status of seeking somatosensory awareness while I sleep - to progress toward either achieving consciousness or greater awareness for vivifying and sustaining my dreaming experience. My instinctual and liminal summoning of coins began in early childhood.

Sliding, usually a vivid sensation, is a typical form of imaginary kinaesthesia (caused by the lack of discernibility of my physical body while sleeping). Sliding (as with other kinaesthetic events such as floating, falling, or flying) has nothing to do with symbolism or wordplay.

Using a door in the dream state is an activity I instinctually or liminally bring about to concurrently vivify or change a dream’s narrative upon stepping through the doorway.

---

There is more to the history behind the causation of this dream. It ties in with loose associations with incidental sleep apnea. I include this because I mentally summon and light a candle (a source of fire as is a dragon) when in undefined liminal space. Additionally, there is likely an association with the heater I sometimes had near the center of my bedroom. Its noise would sometimes wake me in the middle of the night.

---

After this dream, I read a Harvey comic book (with Casper the Friendly Ghost) that involved characters deciding which of two doors to open and ending up as mindless servants when they touched both doorknobs at the same time.

---

Night of April 9, 1971. Friday.



Brenda W, a female classmate and friend (who lived just north of me but on the other side of Highway Seventeen in real life), also often playing a role within the main “mystery girl” composite or “wife-to-be stand-in” - is visiting my home in Cubitis. It seems to be morning, around nine o’clock. Her father is there as well as my father, I think (and perhaps both of our mothers in another area). We are all in my father’s original old room near the southern end of the room close to the windows and more towards the door, I being the only one sitting on the floor. Everyone else is at a table. I talk to her father (who is closest to me, sitting in a chair) about marrying her and he eventually asks me if he can look at my toy plastic army tank. When he looks at it, he accidentally but clumsily breaks the turret off. It is ruined, but I do not show my own anger as I do not want him being angry about his own carelessness by my acknowledgment of it - or perhaps he did it on purpose (this is not certain) - in which case an unpleasant confrontation would ensue. (This is probably a representation of the “defeat” or lack of readiness of my boyish masculine energies by her father - an obvious sort of symbolic “breaking or denial of manhood” or the male member, I suppose.)

There is another scene where either Brenda or the “mystery girl” (as I only see her in shadowy silhouette for the most part) and I are on a hilltop, either in late afternoon or early evening just as the sun is going down. There is a similar awareness of the animation from “Song of the South” (from 1946). Leaves and flower petals are blowing around us in spirals. It is a very positive feeling. It almost seems like a wedding scene. My real wedding years later was on April 9, which was indeed to the “mystery girl”. Last year on this date (April 9, 1970) was also a marriage-related dream. (On a side note, when I married in real life, there were leaves and petals blowing around in a wind during a mild storm though we were under a shelter in Hervey Bay and the storm stopped immediately after the wedding, which can be seen on the video we have).

It seems that the toy tank scene of this dream set was partly influenced by an episode of “The Partridge Family”. I was ten and so was Danny Bonaduce on the show. He was mistakenly drafted into the army on this episode by an “infallible” army computer and his mother took him to the induction center and he even goes through the tests because they do not “really” look at him.

As I carefully go over thousands of heavily documented dreams, I am noticing two things a bit more; one being far more subtle television influence than I originally thought (which seems odd considering the level of synchronicity and even common precognitive associations), and yet two - there being far more unexplainable connections than even I originally thought.

Morning of April 7, 1971. Wednesday.



In real life I had shown a young female teacher, after class, my “How and Why Wonder Book of the Moon”. When she asked “Can I have this?” I thought she meant that she wanted to borrow it for a short time for another class so I said “yes”. Unfortunately, I never saw the book again (so I guess she thought it was a gift). I did not ask her about it and I did not tell either of my parents about the event. (I did have most of the “How and Why Wonder Books” of the time period). I was not angry. I just felt rather strange about the situation. I thought perhaps that I would get it back at the end of the school year but did not. I was always quite passive in the presence of public authority, not because I liked, “appreciated”, or trusted authority in any way - in fact, it was the opposite and I was passive because I saw most such people as unpredictable, unintelligent, and unaware (and likely dangerous at the drop of a hat) except for perhaps a few teachers during my school years, but even then, I strongly sensed their shortcomings and overall incompetence given the circumstances, which often frustrated me but I remained quiet.

During this time, I thought of the book being returned on “Moon Day”. I had “worked out” that this was the day relating to the moon and had a false memory that the moon was always full on a Monday.

The main in-dream theme that recurred here for a few weeks was the idea that people only got married on Wednesdays. It became “Wedding Day”, the “long form” of “Wed Day”. In reality, I never did learn how to “mentally say” Wednesday. If I do attempt to actually think of Wednesday as Wednesday, it comes out wrong due to the bizarre and atypical spelling of the word. This stems from earlier years where I never once said (mentally) anything other than WED NEZ DAY. This is why I so quickly learned to spell it (even over incorrectly spelling “what” as “hwat”, “when” as “hwen”, and so on when four years old). To this day, I mentally think “Wed nez day” when I want to write it, knowing the “z” is actually an “s” and then write Wednesday…I wonder if other people do this.

Morning of April 4, 1971. Sunday.



My dream renders what is intended to be an area of the West Elementary school grounds for playing games, though it is in an incorrect (though not regarded as incorrect by my dream self) featureless location that is implied to be northwest of the elementary school building.

It seems to be late morning. My schoolmates are sitting in a circle and a game of “Duck, Duck, Goose” is in progress. In the back of my mind is a vague idea that I am in a movie that is presently being filmed (which was a recurring aspect of my childhood dreams that suggests subliminal conscious self awareness of being in the dream state, yet without viable lucidity).

In this version of “Duck, Duck, Goose” I am aware that the person who is caught is to eventually marry the person who catches them. I find myself walking clockwise in a circle around the seated group of our schoolmates, with Toby a few feet in front of me (even though there is only one “it” in “Duck, Duck, Goose”). Toby intends to tap Brenda on the head, much to my dismay. However, instead of Brenda being tapped and getting up to chase Toby, she dodges Toby’s attempt to tap her and the roles become reversed. Toby ends up chasing Brenda around the circular group of seated schoolmates.

I decide to start running after her as well, to get to her before Toby does, though I remain at a distance. Still, Toby never comes any closer to her than about six feet. We run around and around and it seems to go on for a long time. The three of us never leave the circle to run elsewhere. For a time, I contemplate the adult paperback Western “The War on Charity Ross” (by Jack M. Bickham), which I had recently read. I start to contemplate that this event is “The War on Brenda Wilson”. There is a sense of drama and anticipation, though my dream eventually fades without a victor.

---

The failure of my personified subconscious to perceive the setting as wrong yet still possess the memory of a paperback I had recently read is typical of the unusual erroneous neural gating of the dream state.

---

My dream designates Brenda as the Vestibular System Personification (a waking alert factor which RAS mediates due to the biological vestibular system ambiguity of being unconscious), though she does not fall or fly but runs in a circle, though there is the implied vestibular-system-based flight symbol of being a “goose”.

Even here at age ten, my dream self was thinking of life partnership. Brenda was validated, in a prescient sense, to symbolize Zsuzsanna long before we met (even though Zsuzsanna often appeared literally as herself, though sometimes as part of a composite which also integrated Brenda, even directly before Zsuzsanna first made contact with me, mainly because I did not learn that Zsuzsanna was a real person until March 1991). Zsuzsanna and I were married on April 9, 1994. (One of the stories she wrote when she was fourteen was called “Wilson’s Dream”, which was about dream state adventures into other worlds. Her first tribal name from the PAIA was “Magic Pen”, which I viewed as a play on female swan, which has a loose association with “Duck, Duck, Goose”.)

---

This online dream journal entry was reformatted from the source material, abridged, and clarified on Wednesday, 21 February 2018.

---

Morning of March 27, 1971. Saturday.



A large unknown family (with at least a son and a daughter both around my age) and a lot of items (too many, it seems, as the car seems too weighted down at times) mostly tied over the roof of their pale green station wagon, makes a wrong turn near our house in Cubitis (heading south) and they end up going through our neighbor’s orange grove and then everything (including my home) is somehow on the moon. However, my “home on the moon” is a bit different, though still seems a partial duplicate of my home on Earth. There are no lunar surface features on the in-dream moon except those featured on a small framed picture hanging from the wall in the room with the gorilla later on.

There is a giant earwig under a large tarpaulin near the entrance to the shed, though the shed seems in a different area of the backyard. It looks out from underneath but does not come out. Its yellow eyes, which are glowing, are the only thing visible in the darkness under the tarpaulin. The appearance and nature of the eyes is actually much like a scene from “Gay Purr-ee” (but with cat’s eyes in the movie scene), thus it is not at all like the eyes of an insect (though which I illogically reason is as such because of its giant size). I believe it came from the scene where the eyes (from the “Money Cat” scenes) are glowing from a storm drain (or at least from a chimney scene if the storm drain idea is a false memory).

The family walks around, not knowing they are actually on the moon, it seems. They appear to be looking for a hotel or motel on their itinerary.

A tiny flat plastic figure of a monochrome red “Martian” (I had in real life; a toy figure from a box of cereal, Quisp, I think) moves about as if alive, somewhat insect-like at first, but it is soon actually “full size” in my dream (about two-thirds as tall as I am). However, it later seems to be revealed only as a stage prop, where a couple (unknown) men are pushing it along on small wheels. There is also a vague impression that it is part of a carnival duck shoot.

I climb up a ladder and look through a glass transom above a locked door, similar to the Rose Street apartment area (but more like a place I lived in years later on King Street). A large gorilla is sleeping on his back on a couch with a Cracked Magazine open over his chest. A longer series of the letter “Z” (of about three different sizes) is actually floating over his head, moving from right to left. For a short time, I also see a floating animated image of a hand saw sawing a small log. He soon wakes and seems annoyed by the noise as well as the sawdust falling on him from his own comic-strip-like sleep balloon. I am not sure if it is a real gorilla seen as is or a gorilla in a costume (odd reasoning). He is aware that other people are trespassing in his home, so we (the family and I) leave the area. We are not threatened or seemingly that endangered and do not see the gorilla again.

Eventually, we come back to Earth in the car just by driving around the “cow pasture” on the moon (“twin” to the real one, beyond the back of my home). The family never seemed to know or acknowledge that they were actually on the moon, just commenting on some strange areas near my home. They do not believe me when I tell them we had been on the moon, so I show them around and show how things are different (for example, no large gorilla on a couch). They probably are not convinced.

Morning of March 2, 1971. Tuesday.



I am playing paper football with Opie W from my own desk. I am not certain who is ahead. The room seems to be a composite of Mrs. F’s class with features of classrooms I had not actually been a part of (including for the older students).

I accidentally flick the paper football too hard and it gets stuck between the tiles in the ceiling right over Mrs. F’s head. A couple other students notice, but she does not and asks “What are you laughing at?” to the ones laughing and then she shrugs it off.

Over time, the paper football somehow grows larger and becomes a cyan chrysalis. It “quivers” at times, signifying life. The teacher does not notice at all but I feel a vague wariness that it may fall on her.

A real-life event vividly replays. Michael P was drawing a simple picture of himself standing in an undefined area. He is adding details to the jeans. Susan R looks on and gasps, “Oooh, Michael” in disapproval.

Michael annoyingly calls to Mrs. F, saying, “Mrs. F, I was just drawing pants and adding the zipper part and Susan thinks it’s a wiener thing." The teacher, reflecting a perfect composite emotion of terror and rage, slowly asks, "Michael…WHAT is a wiener thing?" Michael looks slightly embarrassed and goes back to his drawing.

Time seems to pass, perhaps a week or more. I get the impression that the chrysalis holds a "copy” of Susan or Susan herself, but it is not known what will eventually happen. There is an ominous association with “never going back”.

There seem to be a fair number of subtle plays as is typical with certain types of dreams, examples being a play on “pupa” (chrysalis) and “pupil” (student), a paper football somewhat resembling a butterfly from the side and a typical link to the highly influential “Chrysalids” story (by John Wyndham) and the unexplainable mystical association with the “other” (Susan R). This seems connected with (and precognitive of) the identical drawings of the inchworm in a derby by the “other” and my as-yet-unknown wife (who never left Australia or knew any of my childhood friends), the details being so exact, there was even the same pencil slip (and corrected mistake) and were both part of their short story (the stories being different). This also reflects a dream where the “mystery girl” sees the drawing and actually copies it (while it was on my desk near my bed) so that I will one day “know” her in reality…which turned out to be one of thousands of unexplainable events for me as that actually came to pass, this in turn being a subtle link to when Brenda W (proven wife archetype in dreams) later actually copied my own story almost exactly (but on purpose on her part), other than changing “toads” to “spiders” in every instance. Also, my wife, when young, wrote a story called “W’s Dream” using the same last name as Brenda. Tip of the iceberg in “funny business” as usual.

Night of February 13, 1971. Saturday.



Brenda W, a female classmate I was fairly close to, and who lived just north of me in Florida, turned out to seem to also be some sort of dream symbol and remarkable catalyst for my future wife (there seemed nothing like this for the “other” - Susan R - although she was already present in my life at the time, so did not need a precognitive or anachronistic catalyst, I guess). There is a lot of evidence for this as well as some pretty strange synchronicity on top of precognitive aspects over a longer time period, some now just coming to light which I will add here, as in all honesty “it never ends” as the deeper I look the more “impossible” synchronicity unfolds, in layers, going far beyond being mathematically possible by chance alone.

In the first part of my dream, which seems to be taking place fairly late at night, I go to Brenda W’s house with a larger bouquet of flowers to give to her. As I am walking along, I horrifyingly notice that a yellow bulldozer had ran over and killed her just prior to my arriving, possibly by minutes (I associated yellow in my dreams with “caution” at the time - as with traffic lights and painted borders on floors for possible hazards). Her right hand, from the lower part of the wrist up, is sticking up from the ground (where there is no grass but a few stones here and there). The rest of her had been covered up. I am in awe over the melancholy scene. My dream fades or shifts into the next scene…

I am at the cemetery a few blocks from the school - I had ridden my bicycle past there (instead of taking the school bus most of that year) in real life several years later. In my dream, I am at Brenda’s grave. It seems to be open to display her in almost as a sort of Snow White scenario (or perhaps the grave is not “finished” yet?). It is at one of the graves closer to the road, but as I do not have the luxury yet of knowing the exact location/lot, I do not yet know whose grave it actually was in real life (something I would like to know) as although some cemeteries have exact locations of lot views online, this one does not and I do not quite have enough time to do more extensive research presently.

I reach down to tentatively touch her and get a strange sensation of sticky cellophane covering her entire form. This fallacy seems somewhat “logical” in my dream. It is a fictional way of preserving her appearance, I suppose, similar to how a poster is laminated to make it last much longer. It is a very sad scene for me. I look upon her laminated body for what seems like a long time before I resign to continuing with my life.

Later on (seemingly much later in my dream - perhaps two weeks or more), I am walking in the main part of town. I see Brenda, alive and apparently healthy and uninjured, walking around in the distance. I start to approach her, but she runs off (after stopping and watching me for a minute or so as I go closer to her), appearing to be frightened of everything - or perhaps she does not want to be “discovered” (alive again) by anyone who knew her yet. This happens a few times and I am never able to catch up with her or find where she is staying. I see her vanish among smaller groups of people and she always somehow eludes me. Perhaps she is lost and does not know where to go.

Doing a bit of research, I found a different Brenda W (perhaps her grandmother) in a cemetery near where her family would have originally lived, and that other Brenda died on my wife’s birthday in 1991 - which is the year we first made contact. It was also in block 36, which was the number of my wife’s street address when we first made contact. Layer upon layer, it never ends.

So, the Brenda W in my dream was running away, perhaps in being a symbol of my future wife, was not to be in my path at that time.

Oak Ridge link

---

The event where I touch Brenda’s “corpse” (the back of her left hand) in her open casket relates to a (subliminal) interest in the nature of sleeping and dreaming and is also a dream sign (as she is in a sleeping position and was likely also asleep at the time of my dream in the same directional orientation - thus on one level, this was likely distorted remote viewing). Additionally, the fact that Brenda; neighbor, friend, and classmate; was the only female as such in my youth that I perceived as dying and coming back to life (in a number of dreams) and who was also confirmed as a “stand-in” for my soulmate Zsuzsanna (other than when my “mystery girl” herself appeared, sometimes distorted into some of Brenda’s features), it speaks volumes.

---

Morning of January 19, 1971. Tuesday.



I am looking through a keyhole and see Brenda W, a female classmate and good friend. She is not aware that I am watching. It first seems to be at her house and seeing into her room, but then a little later (“same” keyhole in-dream) at West Elementary School where we are both students. After a short time (perhaps ten minutes), I see “living” totem poles moving about, some of which change into being more human-like at times. There is a red and wider crablike one which reminds me somewhat of a cheap plastic figure from a novelty vending machine.

One, however, was identical to the “creature” at the end of the “Circle of Fear” television show episode “Earth, Air, Fire and Water” and even had a few identical moments of mood and discovery, sometimes seeming to relate to my own viewpoint. Of course, this was a couple of years before I saw it in real life (before it was even aired on television the first time, in fact, on January 19, 1973). There were a large number of elements of the show that unfolded quite precisely in later years. It was very mysterious and elusive in meaning and the eerie music even touched me at a closer level. One of my favorite quotes is from the show, “Remember the days of plenty; they were good days… there will be good days again”.

Because Brenda was often a “stand-in” for the “mystery girl” (wife-to-be), the play on “key” seems to be more obvious now that I am much older. Also, a totem pole is a composite of different entities (such as two people being one in marriage).

Friday, 15 January 1971. 1,488-N1. 36 second read.



From the front door of my Cubitis home, I walk onto the carport at midnight. The house is high in the sky inside a tornado.

A bird as tall as me flies straight through the spinning debris beyond the carport.

His appearance is that of a sparrowhawk. He lands on the edge of the east end of the carport but remains still after ruffling his feathers. I sense he is here to help me. He wears a crown. I have a deep feeling of peace and timelessness.

---

Note: There was a minimal influence from the Woggle-Birds act from “Jack and the Beanstalk” (1967) and the twister scene from “The Wizard of Oz” (1939).

---

My dream begins with the physiological influence of vestibular-motor sensations (from REM atonia). It changes from spontaneous vestibular-motor responses to controlled and more defined.

A crown appears with increased dream state awareness. It reveals higher metacognitive management of the dream state.

---

Morning of December 23, 1970. Wednesday. (Original data and date validated.)



Recurring over Christmas holidays during fourth grade. I am at school for some reason during the weekend starting Christmas break. A very short man/elf (who is very old) - or possibly a dressed-up dwarf or midget more “realistically” - is singing “Jingle Bells” very mournfully (dragging out “way” with a very melancholy flow with about three syllables). He used to sing it with great cheer, but his wife, who was three times taller than him (a blue Christmas fairy or whoever) had died the year before. However, in one part of my dream it seems her “spirit” is present and in a happy mood watching him and there seem to be a few other “woodland characters” in the background, possibly to later participate or remain an audience. (The idea for the “blue fairy” as a dream influence may have come from “Pinocchio”.)

In real life, I had gotten a really long candy-cane-striped pencil with an elf head on the end - not an eraser though, it was made of plastic and cloth - from school as a gift from a teacher. I actually had it for many years, unused.

Also in real life, I had exchanged gifts at school with Morris E based on name draws in school. I had given him (bought by my mother) a small spinner game with tiny pegs in a plastic box about the size of a deck of cards, and he gave me a pair of very cheap toy plastic handcuffs. However, the handcuffs broke after a very short time before school was out that day (and during the so-called Christmas party). The teacher made us switch back to where we kept our “own” gifts and of course, this made Morris E more of my nemesis than he already was, blaming me for “ruining his Christmas”, something I did not take all that seriously, though. My mother seemed vaguely annoyed at me keeping the gift as well. It is possible the mournful singing dwarf was some sort of representation of Morris in one layer, as he was a “dwarf” of sorts, that is, his growth was stunted and he remained very short as he got older.

This dream colored my mood, but not in a negative way. It just felt “right” at the time, almost nostalgic (even for a child). I did make the stronger association with a “Christmas dwarf” rather than a Christmas elf.

Night of December 21, 1970. Monday.



My older brother Dennis, half-brother on my mother’s side, is visiting my parents and me at our home in Cubitis during his leave during the Vietnam war, in my dream as well as in reality. Also in reality as is recognized in my dream, he had given me a small silver flashlight with a corrugated surface, that was identical to the one he had. My birthday was the day before; December 20th. [Dennis plays the role of “interested witness” in my dream and is the only other human character in this segment.]

He and I are in my father’s original room at the southwest corner of my Cubitis home. It seems to be very late at night, perhaps around midnight or after. There is a light mist in the room, rising up to just below knee-level. [The appearance of a mist at or near ground-level, especially inside a familiar house, is a very good dream sign, though I do not become lucid.] We are standing close to the large bed (and which has mostly light gray and light blue bedding), almost touching the sides. My brother Dennis is standing on the left of my informal disembodied viewpoint, closer to both the door and the head of the bed as I am looking south towards the jalousie windows which the head of the bed is adjacent to and from my incorporeal perspective of watching myself (which I do not find unusual at all), the other “real” (physical) me being closer to the foot of the bed on my right, the bed perpendicular to the south wall of the room, out from about the middle of the wall. [A bed is another very good and more obvious dream sign, especially when a mist appears around it.]

A ghostly tadpole, floating in the air, partially transparent and with a hint of blue, about the length of my hand, is hovering and wavering horizontally above the center of the empty bed, and it is looking north towards the foot of the bed as well as alternating glances at us, remaining in position at about two and a half feet from the bed’s surface, reminding me a little of a fluttering pennant. [“See, I am like a ship’s pennant, fluttering above a bed in a room of mist, marking the platform of your induction, so take notice of me, do you not see you are in a dream?”]

This ghostly tadpole is my secondary conscious self presence within my dream, projected here as the flying symbol of dream state immersion and waking transition, downsized and rendered as not yet an adult frog to remind me I am still a boy. It speaks to me of coalescence, impossibly “swimming” fairly high above the implied surface of a pond or other body of water; as such, rising above the awareness of a typical dream, and as a result, my dream almost reaches apex lucidity and becomes nearly as vivid as real life.

Both Dennis and I are shining flashlights at it and around it and watching its big eyes dart from side to side, as I remain with a feeling of awe and wonder, watching how the light reacts to various aspects of its partly reflective wavering body. Its mouth also makes fish-like movements the whole time. My brother is talking about it in detail and making other comments. I catch the word “weird” a few times but not much else. [The flashlight is the power of the whole conscious self, shining light and awareness into the dream state, and in addition to this being my primary conscious self essence, it also signifies the inevitability of sunrise and daylight - that which dissolves the most vivid of dreams.]

Time passes and the hovering ghostly tadpole eventually quickly turns (after seemingly deciding if he wanted to go into Dennis’s flashlight or mine) and suddenly “swims” into my flashlight, following the ray of light that my flashlight emits, yet my flashlight goes out as my dream eventually “darkens” and I wake with somewhat of a curious awareness and puzzlement. I get an impression that Dennis will be puzzled by my flashlight no longer working as I come out of an odd half-awake state.

…and thus my dream ends, the small “undeveloped” (not yet a frog) ghost of my dream self projection, incomplete threads of conscious puzzlement and limited identity, the “haunted” nature of “unraveled” conscious attentions, deciding to coalesce back into the light of day, the tool and form of whole consciousness, the flashlight, the ray of rationality, the flight of the waking, half-aware self back to the source and out of the dream state. There is only one additional detail. My flashlight really did stop working that morning, which puzzled my brother greatly. The batteries were new. Perhaps the bulb burnt out. I did not drop it, but it never worked again.