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    Lucid Dreams

    1. Creatures of the Night (Fun with Bats and Witches)

      by , 03-18-2021 at 10:40 AM
      Morning of March 18, 2021. Thursday.

      Dream #: 19,813-03/04/5. 3 min 20 sec read.




      Vestibular Phasing:

      In one dream, with the usual liminal anticipation of vestibular phasing, I am atop a plateau near a crevice late at night. There is the silhouette of a castle in the distance. There is a silhouette of an unknown man in the foreground. I am floating about ten feet above the ground. Although there is a vague association with vampires, I view the scene as artistic and without wariness. (There is a liminal association with the painting “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog” by Caspar David Friedrich as if the unknown man is the wanderer.) Beauty and elegance are in the detail of the bats I summon as they fly from the crevice with pleasant energy. In the navigation of this fundamental process, I achieve a deep sense of peace.

      Liminal Awareness of Being in Bed Increases:

      In another dream, I am in an unfamiliar semidark bedroom after sunrise. Many people, including family members, are asleep in bed. In different areas of the large bedroom are several clusters of about three to four sleeping bats. (They are sleeping in arrangements similar to our four kittens, probably the influence for this dream sequence.) My dream self does not perceive them as bats (even though they are) but another kind of unusual flying mammal. I make comments about them to an unknown man that had awakened. The bats are about the size of kittens and are white with small black spots, like dalmatians.

      Somatosensory Phasing:

      I open a door a few inches to let them out, and most of them fly out into the bright sunlight. There is a vivid essence of weight and movement, even though I only pick up one. As I hold it and feel it squirm, it bites me on the back of my hand about an inch below my pinkie. Even though I see a small red circular sore after I let it fly away, I am unconcerned. A thin trail of gray foam emerges from the sore, trailing to my pinkie. I am puzzled but unconcerned. (As is typical for this kind of somatosensory phasing, there is a magnification or zooming with the imagery. My hand’s size is increased by about a third.) My dream self does not logically consider that a bite would have left two marks.

      In another dream, the narrative involves a young witch trying to eliminate three problematic older witches. The setting seems to be in a cave (sleep signification) but is like a house. Her focus is eventually on “the third one.” For a time, it seems impossible to eliminate this last witch from her life. She ritualistically chants and looks at drawings from her childhood. Meanwhile, I ask Zsuzsanna if one of the pictures is of Kermit the Frog, but I soon see it as an anthropomorphic rockface facing left in profile. I read a few random phrases but do not recall them.

      Finally, the young witch recites a poem, and the other witch becomes water that fills the room about an inch in depth. At this point, Zsuzsanna wants to leave the “movie,” and so we walk outside. (The water becomes lower, a scene that has occurred in my dreams continually for over 50 years. I realized, even as a child, it signified nearing the end of my sleep cycle.)

      We will be going home. It is morning. Our youngest daughter is with us (though she is the only other family member with us). We are atop a plateau. Looking back at a small structure, I wonder if we should take the three VHS tapes with us of the “movies” we watched (including the last one). Zsuzsanna says we can leave them there for now.

      Navigation of Vestibular Phasing and Imaginary Kinesthesia:

      We have to descend metal ladders to get to the ground far below. Our youngest daughter holds onto Zsuzsanna’s back. She is on my right as I step down onto the ladder, facing the rockface. I am slightly wary about the placement of my feet as the imaginary physicality of dreaming becomes ambiguous. In trying to discern my body’s position and orientation, I automatically wake with a smooth transition. It is otherwise like thousands of previous dreams.



      Two dream content predictions for this date were a plateau or mountaintop and a bat silhouette. (Note that I do not look at predictions until after my dreaming experiences and solving them. People might find this inexplicable, but it is not. In understanding my dreams and their causation and statistics, it is possible to forecast content. For this date, a plateau or mountaintop was 25% likely, a bat 50%, and a silhouette 75%. Even so, elevated areas and managing vestibular phasing and imaginary kinesthesia have occurred throughout every sleep cycle for over 50 years. It has zero to do with symbolism or the pretense of interpretation in contrast to knowing causation. Additionally, associations with flight, including spontaneously flying on my own and managing vestibular phasing in additional ways, occur continually throughout every sleep cycle.)


    2. Crayfish Fight, and My Dancing Flight

      by , 12-24-2020 at 04:07 PM
      Morning of December 23, 2020. Wednesday.

      Dream #: 19,728-03/02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min 45 sec.


      This entry includes two unrelated dream narratives. The first integrates somatosensory phasing (as a result of sleep atonia with liminal finger movement associations while sleeping), and the second, the usual vestibular phasing.

      In my first dream, its setting is not only of typical indoor-outdoor ambiguity but also ambiguously underwater yet not underwater. I am simultaneously sitting at the bottom of a lake, in a room, an outdoor area above water, and a large aquarium. Even so, it does not feel like I am underwater other than when I press my face into a vertical wall of suspended water under the “lake.” I am sitting on a couch. (The floor is like the bottom of a lake but with a living room feel.)

      A few people are making a video. There is an unrelated event where two crayfish are fighting. I place my hand near them, and they move apart. There is a buzzing sensation in my fingers. They come back to fight and move about several times.


      I am playfully sarcastic regarding the video the others are making. I press my face into a wall of water. When I speak, my voice only makes gurgling sounds. I can vividly feel the water on my nose and mouth. I am recording my “speaking” for the others to use in their video.


      In my offset dream, predictable vestibular phasing brings about the usual liminal navigation of floating and flying. An actor is performing for others. On stage right, I perform some unusual dancing as he speaks. I soon float several feet into the air to hover for several seconds each time. As I slowly fly, my awareness becomes more vivid. I feel cheerful, and my activity is effortless (as the result of vestibular system correlation, a non-symbolic fundamental physiological effect of navigating the dream state).

      The scene in my first dream comes from the annoying gurgling in numerous videos I have seen recently in waking life, even on mainstream media. Their talking becomes so incoherent with the gurgling effect I often cannot discern most of the words. This attribute is from noise removal settings being too high. I would rather hear background noise than be unable to understand what they are saying.

      Somatosensory phasing relating to water denizens is typically in dreams near the middle of my sleep cycle, and in this case, the process precedes the vestibular phasing, making it more vivid and effortless. There were recent dreams with a giant walking squid (Gezora), my hand transforming into a starfish, the sleep atonia causation regarding my arms as two ghostly octopus tentacles phasing from out of a tabletop, and many more.

      Updated 12-24-2020 at 04:12 PM by 1390

      Categories
      lucid
    3. “Take them to the Mines”

      by , 12-18-2020 at 10:14 AM
      Night of December 17, 2020. Thursday.

      Dream #: 19,722-18. Reading time: 2 min 12 sec.



      In my dream, I become aware of being in an unfamiliar house. I am looking through a doorway where a young girl sits at a desk in a smaller room, writing. (I am standing near the center of a mostly featureless room.) A little bird is on her desk, having left its cage. I am somewhat surprised that cerebral phasing (and its personification) is still active. Ordinarily, the Naiad factor (melatonin mediation) has occupied this part of my sleep cycle’s timeline for over 50 years. (She is not a Naiad though she does mention mines, suggesting caves, in the outcome of the narrative.)

      I slowly become aware of the silhouettes of about six birds. They are peregrine falcons and owls flying around in the foreground, about two feet in front of me in the same room. There is significant energy that increases over time.

      After an intriguing sustained hypnotic focus on this shadowy rustling and atypical energy for this stage, the girl turns to tell me, “Take them to the mines.” I know it means to prepare to enter a deeper sleep to decrease vestibular phasing and myoclonic anticipation.



      How to understand the reasons for dream content:

      Can ultradian rhythm, sleep dynamics, and the time of my dream be determined solely by content? Yes, in this instance, it most certainly can. Here is why:

      Firstly, “take them to the mines,” preconsciously commands going to a dark place underground. In other words, it anticipates my liminal thoughts of entering deeper sleep near the beginning of my sleep cycle. (I am typically aware of the causes of my dreams while I am navigating them. It is not “intepretation” to already comprehend what is occurring.) References to caves in anticipation of entering (or returning to) deeper sleep have been a regular feature in my dreams for over 50 years.

      Because the peregrine falcons and owls are somewhat restless and in the foreground, as a result of predominant vestibular phasing (implying it will take longer to succumb to sleep atonia), the cerebral phasing personification (the girl at her desk) increases to bring attention to the process; thus the cerebral phasing (and reasoning ability) is also at a higher level than usual. Birds also often anticipate myoclonus while sleeping, though in this case, the residual vestibular phasing does not result in myoclonus.

      Why is my anticipation of slow-wave sleep compensated for here in associating it with mines? It is because of experiencing sleep apnea recently. The girl says, “Take them to the mines.” Despite the peregrine falcons and owls indicating restless residual vestibular phasing, a subliminal reference to canaries in coal mines for detecting harmful gases is a factor. It is associated with not being able to breathe while sleeping. Despite subliminally anticipating sleep apnea in this instance, I otherwise rarely experience it.

      My dreams often include literal references to sleeping or dreaming because I am always aware (on one of three fundamental levels; instinctual, liminal, or lucid) when navigating dream space (and duality).

      My dream’s partial influence is the print “El sueño de la razón produce monstruos” (“The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters”) by Francisco Goya. However, the foundation stems from “Young Girl Writing at Her Desk with Birds” by Henriette Browne. There was no perception of uneasiness despite the inference of the Goya print.


      Updated 12-20-2020 at 09:29 AM by 1390

      Categories
      lucid
    4. The Rain

      by , 08-10-2020 at 11:38 AM
      Morning of August 10, 2020. Monday.

      Dream #: 19,593-02. Reading time: 2 min 50 sec.



      While comfortably re-entering light sleep by choice, I summon my favorite scene - a light rain in an urban neighborhood. It is in the late morning. As I float into the extraordinarily vivid setting, flying slowly about four feet above the street, I choose to remain incorporeal, without summoning and integrating imaginary physicality. Even so, imaginary kinaesthesia becomes a factor of my navigation through the fictitious environment. I indulge in the astounding detail and beauty of raindrops falling into puddles.

      Eventually, there is an incidental recall that Zsuzsanna and I had briefly discussed the Netflix series “The Rain” last night while scrolling through the content. (We had only seen the first episode weeks ago.) Two people (implied to be from the series) walk into the previously unpopulated setting, strolling off to my left, eventually no longer in view. I consider whether my dream will amalgamate the backstory of the series in implying the rain is dangerous.

      American actor Jack Albertson (June 16, 1907-November 25, 1981) is lying on his left side on the ground (concurrent with my sleeping position). He is inside a fenced area not much longer than his height, the top of his head directed to the sidewalk. The fenced area is otherwise for either recyclables or junk from the adjacent service station. I wonder if sleeping in the rain will be problematic for him during my distracted association with “The Rain.” His eyes roll up with his visage like Elise Rainier’s from “Insidious: The Last Key” Zsuzsanna and I watched last night.

      Soon, the young Elise Rainier forms from droplets of rain flowing over a tree and hovers in the air about three feet from the sidewalk (typical reinduction as the Naiad factor common since childhood) and vocalizes the melody (with only tenuto “oo” sounds) of Jim Reeve’s “The Blizzard.” (My dream self does not make the association with that song or its implications during my dream.) This factor stabilizes the original peaceful essence of the dream state.

      Even so, after about fifteen minutes, cerebral nuances begin to activate wakefulness, resulting in text of various colors appearing on the street in paint and chalk. (Despite the rain, it does not wash away.) I float over an area where the word “leveling” features in white paint. I focus more on my usual seeking of text in this mode, but nothing relevant is in my view after this. I see what I first think might be a word, but it transforms into a series (about five of them) of the letter “i.” I see the character “o” in a set of three. Probably every letter of the English alphabet, in various colors, features at varying angles to each other on the street’s surface.



      Notes on this dream’s no-brainer causality:

      The essence of water (both summoned and spontaneous) begins the majority of my dreaming experiences in this mode as virtual melatonin. The Naiad factor is the pineal gland personification but also has mystical implications with the so-called third eye (as well as the Eye of Providence).

      Note the incidental play on “Elise Rainier” as “release rain” (“produce more melatonin to sustain my dream”).

      “Leveling” is concurrent with the transition from the imaginary kinaesthesia of floating into legitimate physicality without myoclonus. (There is probably an association of the balance between serotonin and melatonin).

      Jack Albertson’s role as this dream’s sleep simulacrum ties with several threads of dream state causality. Firstly, he remains in bed in the first scenes of “Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.”

      Secondly, that association was recalled from me posting an image of Willie Talk (a ventriloquist dummy) on Twitter yesterday, a doll being the signification of the absence of mental and physical viability while sleeping.

      Thirdly, his visage is as Elise Rainier’s in a trance (yet another play on sleeping and dreaming).

      Fourthly, the fenced area signifies both the virtual division between dream space and the threshold of wakefulness and, in this case, is also indicative of how the physical body is restricted in its movement while sleeping.



      Everything in this dream stems from the same causation factors as the tens of thousands of other dreaming experiences I have studied and resolved daily for over 50 years. Even so, the uniqueness each time is surprisingly admirable.


      Categories
      lucid
    5. Solid Tin Coyote vs. Imperial Walkers

      by , 06-18-2020 at 12:32 PM
      Night of June 17, 2020. Wednesday.

      Dream #: 19,539-14. Reading time (optimized): 2 min 30 sec.



      Before deliberately letting go of my conscious awareness and recognition of being in the dream state (see note one below), I watch the typical rapid morphing of surreal imagery until it begins to slow into something with which I can integrate. I become aware of an audio snippet from “The Solid Tin Coyote” that accompanied the scene where it is striding. (It is a very familiar and nostalgic sound going back to age five when I first saw it in a drive-in theater with my sister Marilyn and her husband.)

      I focus on the imaginary sound, and this results in a vivid vestibular response of being the solid tin coyote. However, during my dream, my viewpoint changes. At times, I am the solid tin coyote, cheerfully striding through a field. At other times, I am inside its head at a panel reminiscent of an aircraft. Additionally, I am sometimes watching it from an incorporeal perspective.

      Soon, Imperial Walkers (AT-AT walkers) from the “Star Wars” franchise appear on each side. They are slightly shorter than the solid tin coyote. As the solid tin coyote, I happily push them over and avoid their attacks.

      Eventually, when cerebral cortex nuances rise above vestibular cortex nuances (that is, thought cohesiveness beginning to overtake the imaginary physicality of the dream state because of higher liminality and more predominant duality), a Boston Dynamics robot dog struts into the scene from the opposite direction. “Mind your social distancing,” it says in a strange synthetic voice, yet while walking even closer to my solid tin coyote form.

      “Here’s your social distancing,” I say, and kick the Boston Dynamics robot dog over a pole vault bar about a city block’s distance away.

      After this, vestibular dynamics rise above cerebral, resulting in seeing a herd of zebras running to the horizon. (See note two.)



      It is important to emphasize that this is my first liminal to instinctual dream where a pandemic term was perceived, though it still did not trigger any dream state recall of the pandemic itself.



      Note one: In contrast to “becoming lucid” while dreaming (though I have always been spontaneously lucid in the first half of a sleep cycle since I was a toddler, a fact that most people can neither seem to comprehend nor accept), I often utilize the opposite technique. After building a foundation of repeated specialized affirmations (though I never post more definitively scripted dreams online), I deliberately release my conscious presence, so my dream becomes instinctual (without conscious bias, allowing my dream’s narrative to render naturally), which is more intriguing and unique than by way of liminal modulation. (This term includes the sustaining of the duality and knowledge of causal factors between dream space and waking space.) It is overwhelmingly evident that most people lack any understanding of the dream state or its processes, but I try to write as clearly and as honestly as I can. I use specialized software to utilize as low a grade level (concerning readability) as possible for the content, making multiple passes. Despite my AI-reported performance, typically 100% (correctness, clarity, engagement, and delivery), that does not guarantee that my writing is entirely free of errors or ambiguity.

      Note two: Anything in my dream resulting from vestibular-cerebral handshakes and their instinctual, liminal, or lucid management, for example, a car, horse, robot, and so on, vary with which cortex is concurrently most active.

      Robots correlate more with cerebral cortex integration (and my liminal awareness that the physicality of the dream state is wholly imaginary). Physical forms such as animals (in this case, the zebras) correlate more with vestibular-cerebral passivity as I release my hold on liminality. I have experienced these results in thousands of my dreams since childhood, so there is no mystery as to their causal factors.


    6. Commanding a Trailer to the Enchanted Forest

      by , 06-09-2020 at 07:26 AM
      Morning of June 9, 2020. Tuesday.

      Dream #: 19,531-02. Reading time (optimized) 3 min.



      My dream begins with indoor-outdoor ambiguity. Although I am in an unidentifiable rural park in Wisconsin before dawn, I am first near a wall that holds the essence of a room when my dream self becomes aware. I am listening to a vinyl LP with my thoughts being that I can change the wording of the spoken audio, which seems to be a business missive. It is as if I am editing and clarifying the implied text with my mind even though it is on a 33 1/3rd rpm record. At one point, I see the individual words on small movable virtual cutouts that I can rearrange on the record’s surface.

      I go to a small teardrop camper caravan a short distance away. (It is similar to the image, but its door faces the trailer hitch, and there are two sliding windows on each side.) I want to lie down inside it to rest, but I have to move several clusters of full beer cans that are on plastic yokes. (I have hardly ever drunk beer in my lifetime.) I eventually clear an area through the middle where my body fits, my head at the back. I open a sliding window a short distance, pulling it to the left, above my left, and appreciate the coolness of the fresh air flowing through the screen.

      Eventually, the little caravan starts moving. It is daylight now. Looking through the doorway, I see my brother-in-law Bob and my sister Marilyn in the front seat of a car that is pulling the trailer. (They are both deceased, but my dream self does not remember that.) Marilyn looks at Bob (who is driving), telling him that he forgot to unhitch the trailer, and she acknowledges me by looking back. Even so, he continues to drive to the Loomis Street house. I vividly feel the movement, especially as the car goes up a ramp to an overpass. When he drives near three semi-trailer trucks (on the right) that are emitting black smoke, I unhitch the trailer with bodily movement and mentally “drive” it down a different street, now while sitting up in its center. I consider this is legal, as there is a license plate at the back. Even though the caravan only has one pair of wheels, I successfully “drive” it to the Enchanted Forest (a fictitious recurring location in my dreams since childhood, though always different).

      I follow a boy down a hallway that opens into one section of the forest that is now part of a resort. There is an enclosed area with small monkeys and an eohippus (miniature prehistoric horse) here and there. One eohippus is lying on its left side (as I am in reality). I wonder if it is alive. The monkeys are only about eight inches tall. I pet a few of them.

      I instinctually vivify and sustain my dream by walking on the fence of the enclosure (a dream enhancement routine since childhood), increasing vestibular-cerebral perceptual integration. I look down to my left at a car with its doors open, wondering if the people think I am intruding upon their privacy. After I practice balancing for a few minutes, I jump back down into the animal enclosure.

      I discuss the Enchanted Forest with Locke, Sawyer, and Jack from the “Lost” television series. I describe a false memory regarding Jack driving me through an area of the region, which took a couple of days, being that it was of a different dimension that the rest of the resort. I tell them that one section is infinite.

      I call them over to look at a beautiful lake after going into “another world” through a door. We gaze at the extraordinary beauty. Several tourists are around, also appreciating the sight. I see a few small fish below the surface of the water and try to perceive more. The vividness and detail are unfathomable.

      After several minutes of appreciation, my dream begins to transition again to an instinctual awareness of my body being horizontal in bed, as well as a need to initiate waking (for me to get up and use the bathroom). As a result, I try to open a couple of bathroom doors, but Locke yells about needing to elude someone. It is Rowena King from “Emergence.” We all rapidly crawl on our bellies as does she, though she remains about ten feet behind us. We all crawl quickly on white sand underneath the underside of an unfinished building’s floor as I wake.


    7. Jackie Gleason in Stormland

      by , 05-26-2020 at 12:01 PM
      Morning of May 26, 2020. Tuesday.

      Dream #: 19,517-01. Reading time (optimized): 3 min.



      My dream self grows instinctually aware and active during the usual process that determines a handler for cortical arousal (initially my vestibular cortex). In this dream, it is Jackie Gleason, the primary influence being the moonrise (dream state initiation) in the television series “The Honeymooners.” (I will emphasize a fundamental causal factor here. Because being in the dream state has a similar level of cortical dormancy and sensory deprivation as when watching television or a movie, a celebrity is often the virtual handler of my waking transition.)

      An unknown male is with me to my right (waking status personification, mainly inactive). In a big undefined room, two unfamiliar men are standing and talking, facing each other, with the implication we are watching a movie, though we are present and sitting cross-legged at the scene (a common dream state ambiguity). One man is playing the role of a young and thin Jackie Gleason. For a few minutes, we are trying to work out which man is playing him. Eventually, it becomes obvious. It is the man on the left, who has dark curly hair.

      The identity determinant results in initiating the next stage of my dream and vivifies it. My dream self handler (again, vestibular cortex) is Jackie Gleason. Even so, I am still only a witness to the scenario. The Sistine Chapel is in ruins, though only as in another world. An unknown male with a staff controls the lightning (neural energy while in the dream state) to send individuals into the other world. He first does this to an unknown woman (a quantum model of Zsuzsanna, as my waking-life identity is absent). I watch her wander around alone. The storm is not threatening.

      Eventually, the anticipated myoclonus factor becomes pre-liminal. Jackie Gleason stands in the center of the ruins and wants to find the unknown woman to confirm her status and bring her back if possible. The expectation of the transition is by way of flight (as has usually been the case since childhood). There is no roof on the ruins of the building, to allow for the vestibular management of this process. (I am sleeping on my back in this instance, which usually results in vertical dream state processing rather than horizontal as with, for example, using a door to exit my dream).

      A pterodactyl flies down as the vestibular processing simulacrum. Jackie Gleason stands there, but nothing happens. They stare at each other, but the pterodactyl eventually unexpectedly flies off instead of carrying him into the next world.

      As a result of no myoclonus or viable consciousness emergence, cortical arousal instead establishes a vivid offset dream that serves as a false awakening, and I am now lying on my back on the front lawn of our current home in the late morning. Zsuzsanna is standing to my left. (She is awake in reality, standing to my left in our lounge room.) I can see the front of our house and the sky. Dark clouds, lightning, and rain are fast approaching from the south. I am concerned about my dream journal getting wet (as it is on the lawn near me), but I have difficulty moving quickly enough. Eventually, I can get up and wake while doing this.



      Here are some similar examples of this dreaming process that has occurred every sleep cycle for over 50 years:

      Ralph Waite (as in “The Mississippi” television series from the 1980s), referring to a book, talks about the vestibular cortex processing in initiating consciousness (though I do not discern the specific details), summons a giant sparrow, and flies off on its back. (November 7, 2018.)

      An unknown woman and her daughter (quantum model of Zsuzsanna and our youngest daughter) receive a book from Rodan. (Rodan has a similar appearance as a pterodactyl.) The book is enormous (as tall as the woman) and is about dream state processes. (May 21, 2020.)

      A giant white dove (with a red heart symbol on its chest) emerges from the entrance of the Arcadia post office and approaches me as I stand outside facing the building. I hold onto a sword engulfed in blue fire, but there is no threat. (February 9, 1991, part of a longer dream with enigmatic communication with Zsuzsanna before we met in waking life, foreshadowing the letter she wrote to me. I arrived in Australia on February 9, 1994. An American postage stamp, #2814C, featuring a white dove and a red heart made of roses came out on February 14, 1994.)


    8. Horses and Cars

      by , 03-08-2020 at 10:02 AM
      Morning of March 8, 2020. Sunday.

      Dream #: 19,438-01. Reading time: 54 sec.



      In my transition from complete lucidity to liminality near the beginning of my dreaming experience, I think about the nature of imaginary physicality, though it does not correlate with the usual falling sensation anticipation.

      As the rapid morphing of various random settings slows and stabilizes, I see a variation of the “Gunsmoke” Dodge City set, though its implication is ambiguous, as both people on horses and modern cars are present and in motion. I know that horses are more of an instinctual rendering when imaginary proprioception is an anticipated factor, whereas cars, although still signifying the physical body as sublimated while dreaming, indicate a partial level of cognizance. As a result, my liminal state integrates the ambiguity of both in an atypical form of sleep-wake mediation.

      What results, as I am moving into my sleep cycle instead of out of it, is that all the cars unrealistically rotate, reminiscent of a tornado, ballerina’s pirouette, or helicopter rotor system (all of which are variations of mediating this process) as I allow my lucidity to lessen. There is no emotion as only one horse bucks at the impossible scene (only because I briefly anticipate it). The cars do not lift off the ground but rapidly rotate in place until their spinning makes them a seemingly transparent circular anomaly. After a few minutes, I allow the scene to fade.


      Tags: car, horse, spinning
      Categories
      lucid
    9. Loose Wiring

      by , 01-31-2020 at 09:17 AM
      Morning of January 31, 2020. Friday.

      Dream #: 19,401-02. Reading time: 1 min 35 sec.



      My dream self’s focus is on electrical wiring, which is typically co-occurrent with an increase in mental activity (neuronal energy) while sleeping (and sometimes, as here, eventually renders fire). (It is a common sleep-wake mediation process for me, but the rendering and narrative are always different, though in one dream it was more obvious than usual when I “removed my head,” which was a football helmet, and examined and moved the wiring inside it.)

      The setting is unknown (though my dream implies it is our present home). Zsuzsanna is nearby (to my left, modeling our sleeping position). At about neck level, a cluster of gold wiring is hanging from an open part of the wall (so it is a type of wall mediation, that is, navigating emerging liminality, as well as associations with increasing mental activity). Although the wires are loose, I consider that the current is stable as long as they do not get moved either accidentally or with intent.

      Zsuzsanna’s brother Simon approaches and comments on the wiring. I move the cluster slightly and consider the loose wiring (and certain wires touching each other) might cause a short.

      As a result of moving the wires, my dream’s dynamics and narrative changes, with my liminal intent to continue sleeping. The incidental preconscious personification as Simon, who remains passive, also correlates with my sleep-wake mediation. (The preconscious simulacrum only dominates when waking is more of a priority, kind of a no-brainer.)

      My dream changes into typical indoor-outdoor liminal ambiguity. The outcome of this wall mediation results in its virtual division expanding and becoming a beach that defines open liminal space yet is still impossibly implied to be inside our house. (However, potential water reinduction is not clearly defined, as the ocean seems distant.) I now see a very long electrical cord that seems to go all the way to the shore (while the beach sand it is in is still a part of the floor of our house), and minimal fire consumes part of its length as I walk along, mentally extinguishing it to sustain my dream. (Fire also sometimes correlates with the increase in body temperature when closer to waking.) There is no more fire, and I sleep for about another hour.



      Several of my recent dreams have had atypical variations of intentional water reinduction, all with unique results, for example, “Digging Up a Pool” from January 28.


      Categories
      lucid
    10. Digging Up a Pool

      by , 01-28-2020 at 07:28 AM
      Morning of January 28, 2020. Tuesday.

      Dream #: 19,398-03. Reading time: 1 min 6 sec.



      In emerging from slow-wave sleep near the middle of my sleep cycle, a dream sometimes starts with the association of something having been underground, a natural precursor to consciousness emergence. It is more likely to occur when the beginning of my sleep cycle has countless vivid images of sand or dirt flowing over and into various rocky formations of inexplicable beauty and realistic detail, nearly as appealing as water-related renderings (which have been at the beginning of every sleep cycle since earliest memory). Both types of induction sequences become more populated with sightings of cave entrances, which signify my anticipation of entering deeper sleep.

      My dream has a simplistic reinduction narrative. It seems to be nighttime, and about seven soldiers in military camouflage, who are passive to my presence, are here to do some digging. There is no waking process personification or a sense of intrusion here, as it is not near the end of my sleep cycle. Instead, the process focuses on reinduction by summoning water.

      Even so, a thread of emerging consciousness results in a defined association with the color yellow (rare in dreaming in this mode, occurring mainly in later dreams of my sleep cycle with a more defined waking directive). I look down into a hole in the ground and see a yellow pool pump with a black cord attached. I anticipate the soldiers and I will uncover a large swimming pool, though I neither contemplate how the swimming pool will eventually be at ground level nor the impossibility of such an outcome. I wander around the area with emerging thoughts of dream state reinduction, but my dream fades instead, without the presence of water.


      Categories
      lucid
    11. Flight Over Niagara Falls

      by , 01-03-2020 at 06:46 AM
      Morning of January 3, 2020. Friday.

      Dream #: 19,373-01. Reading time (optimized): 1 min 30 sec.



      Water and its essence remain one of the most beautiful and appealing factors of dreaming. That is because bodies of water signify the state of sleep and its dynamics and sleep is bliss (as the virtually countless commercial recordings utilizing the sound of water to induce sleep verifies). It also expresses the fluidity of the dream state’s imaginary physicality with its abandonment of defined muscularity.



      I instinctually enter a more vivid status of imaginary proprioception without drop anticipation (as a result of my vestibular cortex nuances in sleep-wake mediation). I fly slowly near Niagara Falls. The water is luminescent, and its flow is enrapturing. When I fly directly in front of the waterfall, there is a shadow that has more definition than it would in reality. It is not my body’s shape, but the longways silhouette of a helicopter. It tips to the left at about 45 degrees as I occupy myself with thoughts of diving into the refreshing water. I am not a helicopter in this scene (only my body’s shadow is), but a vehicle signifies the extension of imaginary physicality while in the dream state. A helicopter’s status in contrast to an airplane in a situation like this implies more cognizance in emergence.

      The waterfall briefly becomes a curtain of turquoise and cyan silk ribbons, some swaying out as if with a breeze from within, as wall mediation initiates.

      Looking to my right again, I see the helicopter silhouette has transformed into a hake (fish) silhouette of the same size and orientation, though briefly, ambiguity dictates that the shadow is both hake and helicopter. To oblige the illusion, I perform butterfly stroke swimming motions as I fly downward. Instead of entering the water, I become incorporeal and remain in abstract space for a time.



      A dream with similar sleep-wake mediation is “Helicopter Digger” from August 23, 1987. In that dream, a helicopter dives to the ground while a friend and I are fishing. Instead of crashing, it becomes a digging machine, the rotary blades churning the soil as if with a purpose as it enters the ground while tipped to the front at about 45 degrees. Typically, going underground indicates anticipation of returning to slow-wave sleep, whereas diving into water implies acknowledgment of REM sleep.


    12. Green Lantern at the Mall

      by , 11-18-2019 at 11:54 AM
      Early Evening of November 18, 2019. Monday.

      Dream #: 19,327-09. Reading time (optimized): 30 sec.



      In my lucid dream, my dream self is in a shopping mall in the main area, probably Hinkler Central. Green Lantern approaches and hands me a rough sketch of an Angry Bird. When I look at it, I wake with an intense but brief hypnopompic abdominal spasm.



      Despite my imaginary experience starting with lucidity, my instinctual modulation of vestibular system correlation (as a result of the lack of discernment of my physical body while in the dream state) resulted in transferring falling start anticipation and its dynamics, typically lighter and whole body, into jolting where instinctual modulation originates from, around my belly button. My dream’s content is otherwise incidental to the processes other than most often having flight associations despite this trigger being a static image.


    13. Qebehsenuef Canopic Jar (see also “bird resurrection”)

      by , 10-18-2019 at 06:20 AM
      Morning of October 18, 2019. Friday.

      Dream #: 19,296-12. Reading time: 34 sec.



      In the dryad stage, there is liminal ambiguity. The sign of movement and discernment of white (as with a nymph’s elaborate dress) seems to be a misperception. There is no one sitting on the low branch of a big tree in an otherwise open area.

      As a result, I walk through the sparse ruins of an unknown town, signifying the dream state is slowly losing cohesion. There is a more clearly defined warehouse (liminal space) I enter.

      I find an Egyptian falcon canopic jar (Qebehsenuef). It contains a mummified parrot that comes to life when I hold it. I vividly feel the movement as I hold onto it, even a subtle, pleasing vibration as if from a mild electrical current.



      See also “bird resurrection” (for the explanation of this process) that will follow this entry and have the date of October 18, 2019.


      Categories
      lucid
    14. People Lake Canoeing, Me Bicycle Riding, MP Typewriter

      by , 09-24-2019 at 02:00 PM
      Morning of September 24, 2019. Tuesday.

      Dream #: 19,272-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min 30 sec.



      Precursory: I am aware I am in bed at our present address though I do not perceive the room with coherence even though it is a vivid dream. My head is downward (though I am sleeping on my left side) though I have no perception of any other body part yet. My mouth is not against the mattress as my head seems elevated a few inches. I am aware it is morning, and although daylight is present, there is no cohesive imagery yet.

      Induction: I am aware of at least one Naiad, but I do not see her. I can only hear her voice and breath in my ear after several short snippets of gibberish from farther behind me. She says, “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe” while near my left ear. Although I try to bring about communication with expectation with liminal dream state awareness, it does not occur, though I do not possess speech capability in this mode.

      Post-induction: I watch several couples in canoes from a distance. I do not attempt to identify anyone. It seems to be late afternoon now. There are minimal ruins adjacent to the shore.

      Vestibular stage: I ride a bicycle on a hilltop, avoiding sparsely arranged rocks. My concern is minimal as the tires phase through any that are directly in front of my path. (I am aware of attempting to enhance my imaginary physicality with this activity.)

      The drop: I ride my bicycle off the edge of an embankment, and I slowly fly after it vanishes (without exit point modulation). I end up hovering near the doorway of one of the ruins, and I have a desire to look inside. I float into the room in a standing position.

      Cognitive arousal: An MP (preconscious modulator as authoritative) is sitting at a desk with a typewriter. I cannot tell if he is real and had fallen asleep or if he is a mannequin. Upon attempting to read what he had typed, I see only sequences of random letters that change each time I look again. My view seems magnified. I see the red and black ribbon, red above black.



      (As I am already in emerging awareness and cognitive arousal there is no need for the preconscious to be intrusive.)


      Updated 09-24-2019 at 04:09 PM by 1390

      Categories
      lucid
    15. The Propeller

      by , 09-13-2019 at 09:05 AM
      Morning of March 5, 2019. Tuesday.

      Dream #: 19,069-04. Reading time (optimized): 1 min.



      I stand in the early afternoon in an unknown location directly facing the propeller of a small white airplane. The propeller moves a short distance counterclockwise, but then it seems like it had not. I try to determine if it had by concentrating on the scene. I do not see a pilot, as the windows reflect blue sky and white clouds with a gray hue.

      I consider the essence of a slipstream, though mainly, since childhood, my modulation of the imaginary physicality of dreaming has been about balance or hovering to sustain and vivify a dream. I know there would have to be no imagined physical contact (despite ordinary wall mediation using phasing). I feel a sense of movement, but wake.



      “Beautiful Sparkling Tornadoes” from this date was about phasing and slipstreams as well. It is the principal factor of dream entry and egress. (That dream had a fictitious author who wrote about unknown creatures coming through the slipstream to “threaten humanity,” though there was no threat to me.) I can assume (at an esoteric level) that a tornado is a primary vehicle of enigmatic space (when it models the virtual Merkaba), yet which I have modulated even in childhood with one of my favorite dreams of spinning a merry-go-round to counteract an oncoming tornado.



      dream type: liminal modulation of imaginary physicality, supraliminal imaginary slipstream (virtual Merkaba)



      Induction, dreaming, and waking processes stem from the same dynamics regardless of any personification or preconscious simulacrum. There is no vestibular system personification here, only me.


      Updated 09-17-2019 at 03:37 AM by 1390

      Categories
      lucid
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