non-lucid

Morning of July 25, 2016. Monday.



I have befriended, as a coworker, Terry O'Quinn (as John Locke on “Lost”). We are volcanologists working in an apparently isolated area, though there is no impending threat at first. Eventually however, I develop some sort of insight into seeing what is to come, though this is more as a typical pretense in somehow subliminally directing my dream (which happens a lot in non-lucid dreams). There are about six or seven in total working in this setting.

I inform them that they all died - though speaking of events about three days from now. They seem a bit wary of my advice that they should leave. They do not want to scrap the study, but I somehow convince them.

Suddenly, at one point as we are walking, we are all in the Cubitis living room. I gaze cautiously at a small bright orange circle (like a shallow hole possibly revealing orange rather than red lava inside) on the knotty pine wall to the right of the hidden door that was there in real life, somehow linked to a light switch in this otherwise dark room. (This is a sunrise metaphor and waking precursor and seemingly symbolizes a desire to somehow see my deceased parents prior to the new day as both my mother and father used that room during different time periods.) There is a sense of electrical energy rather than volcanic and there is no threat, just a sense of awe and curiosity. The others follow my lead willingly. There is an interesting scene of an earthquake but I inform them that there is still time to escape.

There is a scene where Michael Dawson shows up to drive us to the airport. He looks as if he has been badly burned by being close to the eruption, though it is more like an unrealistic type of “burn” where he is more like a shadow made of ash. It is an unusual effect but he seems perfectly fine and is even cheerful.

At a later point I am looking at Terry O'Quinn through the window of a commercial jet airliner that is flying high in the sky (and it seems I somehow phased through the wall of the aircraft I had just been in to do this). He notices me and there is the idea that I am his guardian angel or even his idea of God. He is aware of me and acknowledges my presence in a somewhat cautious but respectful manner.

Finally, there is a bizarre scene where I am looking at the front halves of the heads of all the volcanologists as they are lying on the surface of a table in a medical laboratory. They are slid around almost like dinner plates a couple times. I am trying to work out where the rest of their bodies are though they seem fairly alert and are answering questions and getting examined somehow.

There seems to be a question over how I knew they would have otherwise died. I reveal my ability, which supposedly came from some sort of injection in this same laboratory. A female medical worker seeks to give me another injection to undo my abilities but I cause her to fly backward across the room and against the wall with telekinesis. I am able to fly away as well as to help the volcanologists escape their second possible fate of being lab rats.

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Morning of July 6, 2016. Wednesday.



I am back in the Loomis Street house as it was in the late 1980s. However, I am with my wife Zsuzsanna (who has never been to America) though we may be implied to be younger. Curiously, this is yet another new variation in layout of the Loomis Street house. The house itself and the room layout is the same - yet the furniture between the living room and dining room (mainly the two armchairs) are turned around and facing west into the dining room instead of east into the room where the television would otherwise be. This distortion does not trigger any consideration or contemplation of the overall setting.

Zsuzsanna and I are being intimate on the floor in the living room. There is an unknown male of about thirty or more seated in the armchair at the south end of the room division. He soon becomes annoyed by our sensual antics on the floor though also seems to be directing anger against himself, calling himself by an unusual insult (seemingly related to how he is seen by government) though I cannot remember the term. I think it is something associated with being a box or container for the extraneous thoughts of the elite. He seems very frustrated at his role of being an erudite adviser, it seems, that is, possibly being the most intelligent person in the region yet being appreciated the least.

I feel that Zsuzsanna and I are imposing upon him (and there are others in the area though I do not directly see them) and I soon pull a sheet up around Zsuzsanna’s bare back and bottom as we then sit in informal cross-legged positions for the most part after we get up from rolling around on the floor. As I face him from a diagonal orientation, Zsuzsanna is closer in the same diagonal line with her back to him) I do not pick up on the fact that it is possibly the other male who should not be present. Still, it seems probable that Zsuzsanna and I should go back to the small bedroom at the front of the house. (What is rather curious, is that none of the actual people, including my sister and her husband and two of my brothers and even my mother who had lived in the house come to mind at all during my dream.)

Instead, the dynamics of the scenario change. He drops or puts worksheets onto the floor right next to the bed sheet that covers most of Zsuzsanna’s lower body. I start to consider what grade they are for and I am ready to say something on their merit and grade level as I look at the top A4 sheet closely. The task seems to relate to some form of algebra or calculus. For a short time, I am puzzled over their nature. I had been ready to say they were fourth grade level but almost consider they are related to an adult business form. On the sheet there is mainly only one table with only about three or four visible unsolved equations (in rows in the middle spaces of the table) that are possibly part of a series for a function (with two or more variables implied, possibly x and y coordinates). There is also a small state standards graphic (American) on the upper left (though I cannot discern it clearly).

Soon, a mysterious unknown dark-haired female appears fairly close to us. She seems to be Persian so is likely another version of Zsuzsanna but I do not consider this in my dream. She starts chanting and moving rhythmically in a formal cross-legged meditation position. She is shaking rattles (one in each hand). I find this quite unusual and am not sure if I am comfortable with this unknown ritual, which seems to oddly relate to the mathematics worksheets.

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Now I am starting to wonder. Would a sheet of paper be considered a secondary (indirect) dream sign? After all, there is the obvious play on “sheet” (and of course ghosts in sheets are an obvious play on the dreamer being in the dream state). As dreams are mainly concurrent metaphors for the sleeping, dreaming, and waking transitions (which is obvious to anyone who has bothered to actually study them for any number of years), this seems a strong possibility. In fact, there is likely an obvious association from my youth from having written out so many dreams on sheets of notebook paper, which were often of various pastel colors - the color sometimes matching my actual bed sheets in Cubitis, which pleased me. This may not be one hundred percent, but after having a close look at other dreams with sheets of paper, there does seem to be a metaphorical dream sign connection. This honest breakthrough may mean a lot of augmented additions (no actual changes to content or original impressions or patterns; just additional notes) to my vast collection of dream work over the last fifty years. This of course would only be relevant when the “sheet” analogy is more direct. For example, just the appearance of a scrap of paper or paper in other forms is not necessarily a dream sign as such.

In this case, a facet of the last scene would imply a desire to use critical thinking skills in the dream state even though that is not really feasible. For example, a “worksheet” with a need for mathematical skills is not directly compatible with a bed sheet.

Even more evidence on this reasoning stems from the sensual mysterious ritual that seems related to the viability of the worksheets. That would make more sense in bed sheets being associated with a sensual act. Also note that the worksheets seem to become more adult upon looking at them more closely - also having relevance to an adult sensual act. Looks like I made yet another breakthrough on the concurrent symbols and metaphors of dreams - yet more important evidence they are primarily native to the dream state rather than having mundane “interpretations” (which I never thought they did anyway, even as a child). Worksheets are also educational just as learning and validating this viable connection and meaningful association was educational. How intriguing.

Morning of July 5, 2016. Tuesday.



My dream self’s primary focus is that I am in our bed in our present home, though with a vague and inconsequential awareness of bilocation within an unknown second location. (My second-most-common form of dream state initiation involves transformation of sleeping location factors, which is simply the residual though subliminal memory dynamic of having fallen asleep, the most common being various forms of water induction. My common awareness of bilocation in the dream state is simply caused by the modulation of the imaginary dream body and the real physical body, though of which was more vivid and sustained in childhood dreams, especially during the waking stage.)

I am holding a manila envelope which apparently needs to be mailed. (This is real-time dream state symbolism as a concomitant of a residual consciously created thread to trigger communication between the imaginary dream self and the dormant conscious self identity, though it does not always work or even vivify the dream state. In this case however, it does vivify my dream somewhat but does not trigger lucidity.)

I look at the front but I am not clear on the address of the business. (This is simply the result of my language skills being dormant while in some levels of unconsciousness, though writing is clearly readable in some dreams, depending on the dream type and particular stage.)

On the back of the envelope is what looks like a tic-tac-toe grid (though is not necessarily implied to be one as it could also be a magic square frame or just a generic three-by-three grid). In the rightmost square of the middle row is a sketchy image of a human left ear.

I turn the envelope over to see if I can make out the name or address again and when I once again look at the back, the “ear” now looks like a sketchy wing drawing, though still somewhat like a human left ear. My dream fades as I am puzzling over this imagery.

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Note One: As a casual reader might guess, the mail symbolism (linked to the first-level dream state initiation, that is, the bed setting), common since childhood and established in practice from December 1966, was not consciously intended to be literally rendered as such, but rather as a “line of communication” sustained into the dream state via conscious intent. However, due to the very nature of being unconscious, my conscious intent naturally ebbs and becomes a literal rendering of this metaphor in the non-lucid dream state.

Note Two: This is also very cleverly augmented “return flight” symbolism as precursory waking symbolism. My otherwise dormant conscious self is fully aware that inner ear dynamics are the main reason for flight symbols in the dream state, which occur in over one in five of the tens of thousands of dreams I have experienced and studied. (Any association with falling, flying, dizziness, or rising is biologically based on inner ear dynamics and RAS activation to bring about and mediate consciousness.)

Note Three: Mail symbolism is also present with dream state duality (harmonious connection with one’s partner) or multiplicity (connection with the transpersonal or collective unconscious, including literal prescience, for example, an actual letter received in real life of the same content as seen previously in the dream state). This dream has no sign of either (although certain other dreams do).

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Resupplemented on Sunday, 8 October 2017.

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Morning of July 4, 2016. Monday.



I am visiting my brother Earl (May 23, 1940-November 29, 2007; half-brother on my mother’s side) and his family mostly as they were in the late 1980s. It seems to be the Saint Cloud Street house except that there is another house adjoined to it on the west side of it with an unlikely unlocked door in the middle of the living room wall, that one can actually go into the other house through.

A dog is heard whining, the sound of which carries through the walls and closed door. It turns out to be my brother’s former dog that he had given to his neighbors previously, perhaps months earlier. My sister-in-law seems annoyed. (This dog was a black Labrador named Gypsy. He had it in Florida when I was a boy and had kept it indoors at my sister Marilyn’s house for a time in late 1978 when he was living in a place for a time that did not allow dogs. For some reason, it would bark furiously at my brother-in-law when he came home from work though did not actually attack. He had a different dog at the Saint Cloud Street address though, which had seizures and would start shaking and just fall over at times though quickly recovered each time, thus this dream confuses the two.)

My brother opens the door to go directly into his neighbor’s house and he leaves the door open. This makes me feel a bit strange, as it seems like a severe imposition. His neighbors are apparently not home, though I consider that one of them, an older male, may still be in bed, but this is only a vague possibility in the back of my mind - no evidence manifests. My brother goes in and gets the dog and makes comments about its nature and how his neighbors may not have been looking after it properly or feeding it enough. He carries it in an impossible way. It sits across his upheld hands somewhat like a statue, only about the size of a large cat, in lying position, and it whines and shakes very oddly. He takes it into another room of his house in the back. The door to the adjoined neighbor’s house remains open and I continue to reflect on what an imposition this is on my brother’s part. I feel a bit wary with possible upcoming embarrassment should these people return home and see the door open as such.

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Updated on Thursday, 10 August 2017. The doorway waking symbolism here is oddly sustained. My emergent consciousness is not rendered as a dog very often, especially a nervous dog. However, this dream predicted certain aspects of my physical body a year later (related to unexplainable anxiety, which I only had at one other point in my life in my twenties). It is also an interesting marker because July 4th (the date of this dream) also relates to pets such as dogs and cats being spooked by fireworks and sometimes running off and remaining lost for a time.

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Morning of July 4, 2016. Monday.



At first, I am wandering about in what I first think is a business building though there are not that many people around. There had been a slight focus on catching a bus (from the La Crosse post office area - even though I now live in Australia), but my attention shifts. I see an unknown male walking towards me in the dimly lit hall. I notice in one large office I glance into that Terry O'Quinn is standing in semidarkness near a desk as if ready to go home. I say “Hello Anthony” and wave and he seems slightly startled and annoyed by my presence and simply responds with “Huh?” I keep walking thinking that I should have called him Mister Quinn. I do not catch that I had called him by the wrong name (and although he has a brother named Thomas Anthony Quinn, I got the name mixed up with the other Anthony Quinn, the Mexican-born American actor who died in 2001).

I am now a young female flying in a loose-fitting superhero costume. My very large cape has narrow vertical red and white stripes (which is an obvious association with the American flag and its waving though I do not perceive this as such while in my dream, although a cape itself is a dream sign that represents being under a bedsheet or blanket). I feel good as I fly through an area between tall buildings. A young male approaches me from the opposite direction and he is wearing the same costume as I am. We end up on the ground where there are several other people, which seems somewhat of a family reunion in a metropolitan park. After a time, he seems in awe that I am flying without aid. It turns out that he had been held up by wires (I assume, linked to all the buildings). I can see a number of wires that are attached to him from different directions (which is an obvious play on the dream self as being a “marionette” of the unconscious state in non-lucid dreams), almost as complex as a spiderweb. Eventually, he seems angry that I can really fly and he cannot. Suddenly, I am a different character, myself as I am now. I am now apparently the father of the previous female character who is still with us. I tell him that I had flown all my life and he seems surprised and annoyed. I tell him that I had flown a lot in Wisconsin when it was too cold for others to be out, though it also seems that my family is the only one with members who can fly. Eventually, my female character is now me again, but later becomes a male flying character (though not the other male who “flew” with wires).

In the next scene, I am going to Terry O'Quinn’s house (its location of which I somehow know though none of this dream’s settings are familiar in any way) to, I think, as a courier, get some documents relative to a business venture. It still seems to be in the afternoon. A group of about ten or more males are standing in a sparse arrangement (somewhat equidistant) in his front yard. They seem to not like my special abilities, including my flying ability, and start to approach me aggressively. I blow lightly in their direction as I am going onto the porch and somehow they are all knocked down by an invisible force and do not get up.

I look into Terry’s bedroom (obvious dream sign; the dream self reflecting on the conscious self still being in bed), and see that he had been sleeping, and as such, he again makes a sort of frustrated “Huh?” sound. Deciding not to annoy him any further, I walk back out onto the porch, which is now perpendicular to where it had just been seconds before (that is, rotated ninety degrees to the right - and this is a long-recurring sudden illogical setting change) and facing the street instead of the large yard at the side of the house. Soon, a male in a business suit comes out to talk to me. I try to discern if this is Terry, though I ask him if he is Tony, but it is someone else. He is a younger male (perhaps about twenty) wearing horn-rimmed glasses. He is talking to me about Terry and his tax forms (relative to business) but I do not quite understand the last sentence. He says something with a very strange playful tone (though as if also being sarcastic towards me) that sounds like gibberish. I ask him to repeat what he had said and he repeats it more loudly than before. I still cannot make out what it is as it sounds more like just a fast “nyah nyah nyah” noise. I tell him in a playful though assertive manner, almost as if talking to a child, “I can’t understand you and I don’t think I ever will” and then begin to hear lightly dramatic music playing in the background as if my dream has an overhead “soundtrack”. He just sits on the wall of the porch grinning sheepishly.

As I am walking down the street, other people are looking at the sky and something seems wrong with the sun. It is supposed to be afternoon but is slightly darker than it should be. After a short time, the sun appears as a goldfish drawing etched into the sky in bright orange strips of fire (which almost seems natural and normal). A circle of fire is around it. However, this fire seems to hit an invisible spherical barrier a short distance out from the sun. “There is a barrier around the sun,” several people begin to note and say as a small crowd gathers around near one intersection. Everyone seems concerned. I am not that concerned considering that if this were real, it would be the end of the world.

Time passes, and eventually there are images in the sky of witches in a circle, from about the waist up, holding their hands out vertically and trying to match the fire shooting out of the now crystal ball sun by sending their own fire (from the palms of their hands) back into the “sun”, which seems to “explain”. the supposed barrier There is a loud sizzling sound that also seems to have elements of hissing, breathing, and snoring.

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What a long bizarre and surreal mixed-up dream. What is unusual is the goldfish, as a fish is typically an induction symbol (which directly represents the dreamer in the dream state), though here is the waking precursor and light-of-day symbol (dawning consciousness as sunrise and circadian rhythms metaphor). I guess this is because gold represents conscious activity in the dream state, so the goldfish oddly serves as this dream’s flight symbol (that is, the main consciousness displacement representation that occurs in the majority of my dreams). Fire represents emerging conscious awareness within the dream state and as such, sometimes causes the dream’s dissolution (unless lucid).

Morning of July 2, 2016. Saturday.



In my dream, my wife Zsuzsanna and family as we are now are living in an unfamiliar and unknown location. I need to go to the grocery store before it closes, as it is late at night. Even though the location is unfamiliar, I seem to somehow know where I am going when I leave our house.

I walk mainly down a sidewalk in an area where there are no buildings. I am headed towards a bridge that is perhaps half a block long. On my right, across the street, I notice a ninja in black jump up onto the bridge railing after it seems he had come from the middle of the street ahead. At first, I had thought he might be approaching me, thus I remain wary. I am not sure if it is a teenager intent on attacking and robbing me though that feeling is not that strong as I keep walking. It may be that he has no intentions toward me. This remains unclear.

I seem to discern another person ahead of me and in lighter clothes, but walking towards me. However, this person seems to either disappear or also cross the street to the other side. I have a vague impression he may be connected to the ninja as part of a gang. Still, nothing threatening happens. The ninja remains on the railing in a squatting position.

There is an odd and atypical dream within a dream where I am reading about an older male from China concerning some sort of anecdote of the author’s. This occurs as I am walking but my dream goes back to the original setting after a short time.

Eventually, I cross to the right side of the street and enter the unfamiliar grocery store. An unfamiliar and unknown Asian girl is the cashier at the one counter across from where the shelves are. There is one aisle on the other side. Even though the store seems to be closed at this point I tell her I will not be long. There is a shift, and I already have two small bags of groceries without any recall of either picking them up or paying. I then tell her, as I am heading toward the doors, that I need to get one more thing, a box of cereal.

I find myself going to an area that is apparently in the back of the store. I notice that it is a mess, with various items strewn across the floor to my left. Otherwise, there is not that much on the shelves. I walk out back to being near the counter and ask her where the cereal is and she makes a note of it being on the other side of the main area. I notice a box of cereal (at the top of the shelf) which is Weet-Bix but mostly cinnamon flavored and consider that I will just grab that. I still do not have full recollection of paying for anything as I leave, though my dream fades from there.

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I have had other dreams where a certain part of a grocery store was messy or under construction or repair. It may relate to improper diet and the under construction aspect may relate to healing and cellular repair - or, it may just be incidental to the transient nature of the dream state. Shopping for food dreams are fairly common for me.

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A bridge typically represents a consciousness shift within the dream state. This is validated in this case by the ninja in black jumping up onto the bridge railing before I cross the bridge (though again, across the street from me yet seemingly just appearing from the middle of the street), which seems to be a less interactive form of the waking precursor. In this case, the ninja may be a curious variation of my own shadow form that has appeared in a number of dreams since early childhood, primarily in two forms, both forms implied to be my own shadow (regardless of how far away or even being of a different orientation). In the one form, it seems to be “matched” to my dream self as I test to see if it is my dream self’s shadow and in the other form, it seems to be my conscious self (doing different things than my dream self) looking into my dream and watching my dream self. However, even in the former, it seems related to a subtle awareness of conscious activity and emerging (that is, growing and clarifying) self-awareness.

Morning of July 1, 2016. Friday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and family as we are now are living back on Stadcor Street in Brisbane. Our youngest son first notices a caterpillar which moves quite fast. I tell people not to touch it as it has long hairs (though I honestly am not certain if it is poisonous in this way). It seems to crawl unnaturally fast at times but is not really a threat; only a curiosity. It is somewhat of a deep blue color.

Eventually, it seems to make a cocoon after we have it in a large rectangular plastic tub full of dirt. We are out on the back porch, seemingly early in the morning. As I watch, the cocoon moves rapidly over its body like a transparent skin. There is interest concerning when it will become a moth or butterfly. Almost as soon as the cocoon is formed the caterpillar changes as the “skin” now disappears and it becomes a large moth that flies upward. It is almost like a small bird.

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This is a curious and more direct waking transition utilizing the typical consciousness displacement flight symbol in leaving the dream state. A cocoon can be seen as a dream sign (analogous to the sheet or blanket that covers the sleeping dreamer) as, additionally in this case, a moth is attracted to moonlight. A caterpillar, especially in a cocoon, is a waking precursor that implies the liminal space on a more subdued level. The moth has a crescent moon design on its wings, which indicates the dream state itself (moon induction) as now waning in relationship to the circadian rhythms and biological nature of the dream state and dream stability and continuity. As I wake while we stand on the back porch, while watching the moth fly up and away, our youngest son is to my right and I am facing the outer wall of the bedroom where Zsuzsanna and I had slept while living at that house (dream sign and waking reference).

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Morning of July 1, 2016. Friday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and our family as we are now (relative to age and appearance for the most part) are seemingly living back on Stadcor Street in Brisbane. However, our house is eventually implied to be haunted. There are also a number of other people, including a young black male, who are either staying with us or just looking things over as visitors. It seems we may have just moved in within the last few days.

A few different times, termites crawl out from near the top of the walls. There seems to be some sort of demonic or ghostly presence in the “attic” (though there really was not an actual attic as such in real life). The black male spends time looking at the ceiling and I notice some unusual patterns. For example, parts of the ceiling have spiderweb-like cracks in about three different areas as well as real spiderweb a short distance from the ceiling light. At one point, there is a small cylindrical hole where sand or dust rains down from for a short time.

The room shared by our two oldest children when they were younger now seems to possibly serve as a different room, though there is an unfamiliar and unknown young dark-haired female in another room whose room it may be (or may soon be) and I am seemingly checking the room regarding its safety. Instead of a wooden ceiling of planks, it is white tiles and actually seems like my bedroom in Cubitis in some ways (though the ceiling is lower). However, it also seems like some sort of unusual but very subtle composite even though the Cubitis house layout is different from the Stadcor Street house layout, though two bedrooms and the living room (lounge room) are in similar locations with respect to each other's directional orientation.

I reach up through the pushed-aside ceiling tile and find an old paperback children’s book with a yellow cover and a sketchy drawing on a white panel with a black border. I am unsure of the title. I think it may be a story from “365 Bedtime Stories” (owned for years in my childhood) and may refer to “What a Jolly Street” (which I have not thought of in many years). I brush and sweep dust and spiderweb from it with a very realistic focus and sense of awareness and touch. It depicts a cheerful running boy (implied to be running away from the foreground, though at an angle from his right) with a blanket over his shoulders (obvious dream sign though it does not trigger anything - though the cover being yellow is a dawning consciousness and sunrise symbol). I give it to the unknown girl who may be implied to be my (fictional) daughter though as other families may also be living in the house, I remain unsure. I am also aware of my real youngest son at one point during this scenario. I am able to find a few more similar books and find it fascinating and enriching, though almost like a typical faux lucidity where I expect something (without knowing I am dreaming) and manifest it with no effort. (The thought alone creates it.)

Back in the kitchen, there is movement in the ceiling over time, which is not tiled but of some sort of white fiberboard. Whatever is up there is very heavy and seems to make the ceiling slightly lower wherever it goes. Everyone seems concerned as we clearly hear it within the ceiling, “following me” wherever I walk, which is quite interesting - as if it can sense me somehow - even though I try to walk very quietly. This goes on for several minutes. At one point, there is the idea that it may be a giant rat although its “real” form may be a demon or ghost. I am annoyed more than frightened in any way and talk about “how to get rid of the demonic presence”. After a time, it speaks in a deep patronizing voice. This causes me to have had enough since this being also brings out termites a few times (as if by supernatural control), though they do go back into the walls. I shout as loud as I can for the being to leave and I do not stop. I am not afraid; I am annoyed. Eventually, it seems quieter.

I casually walk into our large lounge room. On the opposite side of the room and to the right (near the front windows) is a large lion sitting in a natural position on one of two large couches (which form a corner against two walls that join) and is “playfully” nudging one of six or seven toddlers who are somehow all sitting atop the back of the couch. The lion is opening his mouth around one in particular as if to indicate he is about to swallow her. There does not seem to be an immediate threat because the lion does not actually bite any of them. However, I have had enough of this strange “haunting” and even strongly feel that sacrificing myself to save the toddlers is the right thing to do. I get the lion’s attention to distract him from hurting any of the toddlers and he jumps down from the couch and approaches me. I assertively demand “Who are you?” after boldly gazing at his face for a time, because, even though I am not lucid in any way, I get the strong impression that I should do this.

The lion eventually starts talking in a rough human male voice as I look stoically into his eyes, but, almost without me noticing the change, the lion is now a dark-haired and heavily mustached European male (perhaps in his early forties) standing before me in a medieval swordsman outfit, though there are also the essences of court jester and pilgrim in his overall appearance and I seem to make out vague pale green and brownish horizontal stripes across his jerkin. His hair is about shoulder length though his small hood seems up. He talks about being the former resident of our house. He seems angry about its fate. Oddly, his main concern is about a party that is apparently to be held in the kitchen. I am not so keen on a party myself. I try to reassure him so as to stop all the ghostly commotion and eventually wake - with an understanding that a few of the other people will not have a party that may wreck the house and annoy the ghost.

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The setting of the kitchen may relate to slight hunger in sleep, though here, it may also imply the presence of the lion of coalescence as a lion represents swallowing the dreamer back into whole consciousness. The toddlers probably represent potential new (or offset) dream states, as this takes place on a couch (a dream sign as it is like a bed). When I was getting books from above the ceiling, I was attempting to reach and communicate with the critical thinking skills of my conscious mind, which are usually greatly lacking in dreams (as anything above the ceiling represents conscious activity as does a haunting - which is meant to stir the conscious self into waking or at least being more aware within the dream state). With the most subtle of conscious activity (though I am never lucid here) I even get a direct symbolic response that indicates I am sleeping and dreaming (the book cover of a boy running with a sheet over his shoulders). The challenge of “who are you” is quite extreme and rare for me in a non-lucid dream state (though is commonly practiced by other schools of thought in dream work), especially as I subliminally know the “who are you” is a form of my emerging consciousness. Overall, I found this dream fascinating and have placed it on my “favorites” list. It is one of my favorite non-lucid dreams in recent years.

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Again, it is curious how I challenge the Gatekeeper in liminal space, which, for whatever reason, some people identify as the “subconscious”, though this makes no sense as it is the dawning conscious self that is growing in activity in the dream state, not the “subconscious” (a term I no longer use or broadly accept anymore). A swordsman represents truth and clarity of conscious day to day awareness and in some cases implies a higher “destiny” regarding change (especially the angel with a blue flaming sword). A concern about the “party in the kitchen” possibly relates to eating healthier foods and losing a bit of extra weight yet may also metaphorically relate to a more profound coalescence in integrating more with the Source.

Morning of June 27, 2016. Monday.



I am with my wife Zsuzsanna and our children as we are now. For some reason, we are sitting in the shed which seems to be our present shed from where we live now though also seems at one point to be the shed on Loomis Street. The people in the Loomis Street house are strangers, it seems (though I only hear them talking at one point). This highly unlikely scene (of sitting around in a shed of someone we do not know, though perhaps they do not even know we are out here) does not seem unusual to me. I am seated on the floor opposite the door though Zsuzsanna is seated on an armchair to the right of the door (my viewpoint), which is open. Our children are near the wall that is perpendicular to the door.

Eventually, as I am talking to Zsuzsanna, I get an absentminded idea to say “Judy”, the name of Zsuzsanna’s sister. I say it in a strange way as if making fun of her even though she is not present. However, as I say her name, I am aware she is actually approaching the shed door. She comes in looking despondent. I say, “oh sorry did I scare you?” (and by this I mean saying her name in a weird way just as she was reaching the door) and she nods. It is almost as if saying her name just made her appear in the backyard but I do not really reflect on this much.

I soon notice, before she sits down to Zsuzsanna’s right (my left) across from me, that she seems to have an axe in the back of her head. This of course is odd because I doubt she would be walking around if such was the case but the imagery changes a bit. After a short time, I realize she is carrying an axe over her left ear like some people do with a pencil, pen, or cigarette. (This of course is ridiculous and impossible but seems possible in my dream.) Seeing her wearing an axe on the side of her head makes me wary as her emotional state makes me uncomfortable. As she sits down, I briefly stand up and reach out and say “Here, let me get that for you…” (pretending to be cordial rather than expressing that I think she is prone to be a threat) and take the axe off her ear and put it behind me to my left where I know where it is (in case she suddenly becomes angry). The axe is of normal size though the handle has a very slight S-shaped curve to it. (Again, it is absurd to think someone could wear an axe over their ear like a pencil but such is the way with dreams.)

I make sure the axe is close to me so she cannot suddenly get to it but she remains seated where she is across from me. Behind me to my left, where the axe remains on the floor, is a feature that resembles an NBN cabinet. I do not take notice to that unlikely feature either.

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Layer One (Native Meanings): A shed is a common liminal space setting relevant to dreaming and waking symbolism. This is because it is a place where one may “store memories” without remaining there, a direct reference to the unconscious and being in the dream state. Judy as the personified preconscious is typically displaying a “not going to listen” metaphor, as the axe over her left ear represents a potential “cutting off” of listening to the temporary dream self identity. There are two distinct possibilities for this main dynamic of the preconscious but I presently believe that it may be an indication that unconscious access is no longer viable during the waking transition. However, it may also be that the preconscious is blocking additional threads of conscious self identity from the personified subconscious (dream self), to prevent sustained lucidity or transpersonal links (possibly for biological reasons). (A much simpler explanation is because the dreamer is asleep and thus the preconscious cannot hear the outside world that clearly.) The symbolism is validated by my non-lucid dream self placing the axe (from Judy’s left to my left) near the NBN cabinet, which also represents listening and communication (via Internet and telephone lines). This is probably because my dream self did not want a violent confrontation with the preconscious (and it also physically decreased the energy of the waking jolt).

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Layer Two (Probable Conscious Self Associations): Judy as the preconscious is associated with her not listening to important advice and information from people, especially in how people take advantage of her.

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Layer Three (Precognitive Function): We did not see Judy for a much longer time period than usual after this dream.

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Morning of June 26, 2016. Sunday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and I, about ten years younger, are sitting on a couch in an unknown residence which is implied to be our home. (My dream self does not perceive it as unfamiliar.) We are watching “The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet” on our television. I notice colors in certain parts of the otherwise black-and-white show, which puzzles me.

Holding Zsuzsanna’s hand as we get up, with her accompanying me on my left, we walk up to our television. We continue to watch the show, but the screen seems unrealistically large. To the left is Harriet Nelson in her kitchen. I am aware of Ozzie Nelson in at least two scenes. There is also an unknown teenage female who is in one scene.

I start pointing out the different colors in a few different locations even though much of the imagery still seems to be in black-and-white. The curtains seem to have somewhat of an orange tint and at this point, we are looking through an actual doorway and to the left, where the curtains are unrealistically implied to be beyond our side of the wall, covering windows which are somehow not on our side of the wall. I tell Zsuzsanna how I do not think the colorizing is very good as it seems to make the scene look less realistic. I continue to converse with Zsuzsanna as we are now seemingly looking through the doorway of an area of their house, or rather, are now somehow present on the television studio set. Soon, most of the setting is in color.

I notice a man standing to our right on the other side of the doorway, in shadow and unrealistically tall. I acknowledge him politely, thinking he is Ricky Nelson, even pointing him out to Zsuzsanna as such, but he seems annoyed after watching us for a short time. He is David Boreanaz, as he appeared in “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and “Angel”. I realize that we have disrupted the filming or live broadcast of a television show that was meant to copy “The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet” but without anyone knowing it was a copy or even referencing the older show.

I apologize to him. Zsuzsanna and I walk away from the doorway into the semidarkness of a featureless room (which means we had teleported as it is no longer our lounge room). He comes out from a different doorway about ten feet to the right of the one we had been in. I continue to apologize for having disrupted the episode. He seems very tall and imposing but I do not feel threatened. “There are no cell phones here,” he informs us, sounding slightly frustrated but not very emotional, and I tell him we are not carrying cell phones.

I tell him that he should play Ozzie Nelson, as he looks just like him. I try to sound respectful, but he seems annoyed by my remark. He probably wants to get back to his work, as it may be live and consequently may need to include an improvised explanation for our disruption to its continuity. I again consider that they may not want viewers to know what television show they are copying even though it seemed we were watching the original show at first (before we apparently teleported to the set). My dream fades as I continue to tell him how he should play Ozzie Nelson (even though that may be who he was meant to be impersonating rather than Ricky Nelson when I had first seen him in the doorway).

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This dream journal entry and supplementation was optimized for conciseness and clarity on Saturday, 5 August 2017. Thank you very much for your encouraging emails.

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There was a thread of prescience, as Zsuzsanna had started to check out the “Angel” series from the library without first telling me (and she had not read my entry at the time). This follows the general rule of me continuously having dreams about something which had been on her mind without her having told me.

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I had originally theorized that “there are no cell phones here” was in reference to the preconscious not typically being a viable vessel of communication, as its primary purpose is to bring the dreamer out of the dream. However, I now realize what the reference may likely be and I cannot believe I did not catch it. Although the waking transition began with doorway waking symbolism, it did not serve to wake me but instead deeply vivified my dream self’s awareness in this case. Still, my dream continued to resolve with the most common form of waking symbolism, return flight. Even though we were in a featureless room of a television studio in the last scene as it transmuted into liminal space, I only now consider that it was a reference to “no cell phones on flights” (and yes, that is a significant gaffe on my part).

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I found it amazing how my dream’s dimensionality was so vivid yet so skewed, where the wall on the other side of the doorway immediately to our left somehow goes back beyond our side of the wall as well as having windows on that side and not on our side, which would be impossible in reality even by deliberately tricky perspective.

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In real life, I never thought of David Boreanaz as looking like Ozzie Nelson even though I now see a resemblance.

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Zsuzsanna and I have never watched “The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet” together but we have watched “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, “Angel”, and “Bones”.

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Morning of June 22, 2016. Wednesday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and family and I as we are now are at a large unfamiliar park, though perhaps implied to be in Brisbane. It is somewhat like a composite of the South Bank and Nundah parks. After a time, a group of unknown people start to gather under a shelter. This seems to be related to the beginning of a concert.

It seems to be nighttime at first, perhaps around nine o'clock. We listen to the music for a time. Our children stand to our right. We are not actually under the shelter at this point but just on the outer perimeter of it.

Burl Ives, or someone much like him in this case, eventually shows up and there is the option to go with him on some sort of tour of the area. Zsuzsanna and I and a number of other people join the group. At this point, our children apparently remain behind, although our two oldest are with the younger ones.

We are eventually on a bus going up a hill. Somehow, the time is now late morning or afternoon since it is now daylight. After a time, the bus transforms into a jeep and Zsuzsanna and I are sitting in the front to the right of the driver (which is the wrong orientation if assuming an Australia vehicle). The jeep goes over a narrow road and into a fissure; between two high rock faces (which almost come up to the sides of the jeep), right to the edge of a cliff - and I almost think we are going over and that it is meant to be the purpose and climax of the supposed tour. I see the view far below, mostly of forests and ravines. Soon though, the jeep backs up and I hear an unknown voice behind me say, “Oh, we are backing up now” as if they are relieved our tour did not include going over the cliff. “This is a really stupid way to make a road,” I say assertively.

However, the jeep, after backing out from the fissure, is then driven in a perpendicular direction and comes to a stop just before going off another part of the cliff. Again, I contemplate if we are going over but instead the driver backs up a bit and turns and goes down the road and back into town. Having had enough of this “tour”, I leave the jeep as it is still going down the street and somehow end up on my own in an unusual fancy building, which is apparently closed at the time. I try to find a door out of the building to go home (as I am also concerned about where our children are) but I end up only going into what seem like business offices. One room has a male and female who do not regard me. I then turn and go down a hall and somehow (by force of will even though I am not at all lucid) create a door into a portico which leads into a parking lot. It is now nighttime again (and thus Ed Wood must be directing this dream as often seems the case with illogical sudden switches from night to day and back again during the same shorter time period).

As I walk through the parking lot, Zsuzsanna is walking to my right as if she had been there all along. I am still concerned about our children’s safety, particularly our youngest daughter. As I continue to walk I realize that Zsuzsanna is still speaking to me even though she is now a mostly yellow (emergent consciousness color) cylindrical music box of the windup type that holds and rotates a baby cot mobile. I accidentally drop her on a parking block as I am stepping over it. I feel bad and hope she still works. I hear her musical whirring and realize she may recover.

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Firstly, a parking lot represents the liminal space between dreaming and waking and is always an element of the waking precursor for me. Many of my dreams end in a parking lot setting because of the symbolic association between being “elsewhere” (in the dream state) and from there will go “home” (real physical body) even though there is no car association here (and I am inclined to now believe that a parking block may be analogous to a pillow as a dream sign in at least some cases). This last part was also indirectly precognitive as our youngest daughter was slightly injured by falling on a music box (though was not hurt that much). The loose patterns included the music box, the association with a baby or young child, and being hurt in a fall. My dream however, though it foreshadowed the event correctly on one level, used completely different connections.

What I find very curious here is how the typical falling start (waking point) was “stopped” twice before I took action to go into a different level of consciousness (though I sometimes deliberately jump from cliffs to enter an enhanced flying mode), which then foreshadowed an event from today. I was unable to prevent it, but I still find it very interesting and typical of the unexplainable facets that occur in some dream types.

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Morning of June 22, 2016. Wednesday.



In the first part of my dream, my family and I as we are now are seemingly living back on Stadcor Street in Brisbane. However, it seems (or eventually becomes) more like a public venue. Our house is also a little bigger and fancier. I find myself playing an electronic keyboard in our kitchen. I am enjoying the sounds for a few minutes. My music sounds mostly like a reed organ with sustained one-note tones around the 440 Hz range.

Eventually, I notice that I am likely annoying a group of people who are performing in a small orchestra in our living room as well as distracting their small audience. I did not even realize that there were other people in our house (other than the members of my family). There are at least six members of the orchestra. I can clearly hear the beautiful music though it does not sound familiar or recognizable as a known work. My keyboard in fact, is almost as loud as the orchestra at first. Even though these people are technically trespassing (though I do not focus on that fact) I decide to stop playing. I remain passive and receptive and eventually go to the living room and the scene shifts.

Now I am sitting on a couch in an unfamiliar setting that seems only partly rendered. On my left though, there is ambiguity in whether I am outdoors or indoors (though the implication seems logically indoors). An unknown male of about sixty is on my right. He seems to be talking about the history of a particular musician though I am not sure who he means. In fact, he may not even be addressing me as he seems to be speaking to an invisible audience presumed to be facing our location. I have an old softcover music book with yellowed pages and scroll and seashell patterns on the cover (possibly from the 1800s) and this book may be relevant to his oration but he seems a bit distracted and perhaps he is even an eccentric homeless person. There seems to be something “off” about him. He seems angry about the musician of his speech not having an accurate representation in published works. That is, the books published on his life contain mostly erroneous details. However, it may also be that he is completely wrong about what he is saying in his speech.

The scene changes again and I seem mostly uninvolved as I watch Burl Ives blowing on a harmonica in short intervals. The members of the orchestra at the beginning of my dream are chasing him down a hallway. Every now and then he stops and cheerfully and defiantly blows into the harmonica. The orchestra members wave their fists and continue to chase him down the long hallway and around corners but he continues to elude them, mostly remaining about three feet ahead of them at all times. Eventually, they catch on fire but still continue to pursue him, not seeming to notice or care that they are on fire. I watch the flames leaping mostly from their upper backs and shoulders.

Now I am watching Zsuzsanna sitting on a park bench. She is looking at a small neat oblong garden bed which has smooth white stones around the shrubs and flowers. It is parallel to the bench and about eight feet away. The head and shoulders of a young male pops up from the ground, but it vibrates and quivers and seems to be a movie prop as it is pale, almost colorless, and clay-like. Its purpose seems to be to fully emerge from the ground but it keeps going down again to about neck level. Another (unknown) person to her right seems to be laughing intensely at the scene and I start to feel a strange cheerfulness as well. It seems to be part of a movie being filmed but they cannot get the prop to operate correctly.

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Burl Ives has a special symbolic significance for me. He played the skeptic and eventual victim as a result of his own skepticism in “The Bermuda Depths”, which was a movie that signified my path to my “mystery girl” as being a real character (rather than just a dream character as I had originally thought when growing up). Water and fire have always appeared in dreams he has been in. Fire usually relates to dawning conscious awareness and the nature of sunrise (as relevant to day to day reality).

The first part of my dream relating to the orchestra seems to be relevant to a time (and as a reminder) for both lucidity and non-lucidity. Although I indulge in apex lucidity on a night to night basis (the type of dream I rarely post), I also find joy and great interest in non-lucid dreams regardless of their content and my excessive familiarity with many component types. Here, I am making music and then decide that the orchestra (the Source or the natural flow of the unconscious realm) should be heeded and heard.

The last part relates to a prolonged waking transition. My dream goes a bit haywire. One way to look at it is that I am trying to wake up but I am too amused by the surreal imagery and cannot quite “emerge” from the unconscious realm even though I have been downgraded to a “movie prop” (a movie being analogous to the dream state).

Morning of November 2, 2016. Wednesday.



My dream’s backstory and beginning is not that clear but implies getting on a train and going on a special journey to somewhere undetermined. After I get on the train I enter a mode of non-lucid dream control. I get the idea that “anything can happen” on this train ride and that it might even be some sort of bizarre fairground ride, whereby the train may not even be moving at one point even though most of the passengers assume it is real and going to perhaps another country or even an unexplored region.

At one point, scenes of what seem like the surfaces of a couple different planets (one view somewhat Mars-like) are viewed through the window of the train. A couple young girls gasp and point. I am vaguely aware that I somehow created the events yet I do not become actively lucid at any point.

After several minutes, what looks like a large town is passing by the windows, except the view is consistently upside-down. People do not seem to be all that concerned and I can tell it is obviously fake. I can even see a black band along the bottom of the rolling imagery a few times, as if it is not fixed to the mechanism correctly, which is apparently like a conveyor belt rotated ninety degrees to the vertical position and displaying a long strip of paper that features the photographic detail. I feel slightly disappointed at the intelligence of some of the other passengers in their apparent thinking that it is real though I do not say anything.

Eventually, we come to a stop near a supposedly unexplored jungle. I wander to a clearing with an unknown male. There is a large circular hole in the ground. There also seem to be a few larger concentric arcs about the opening. This causes me to become puzzled and I wonder how pieces of ground could stay up as such. There are at least two monkeys in the large spherical pit that are small and of no threat. I do not get as close to the opening as the other male and advise him to be careful, as the additional arced openings do not seem logical or even possible (unless perhaps strong rods with platforms are under the narrower sections of isolated ground though this does not seem to be the case) yet no lucidity is triggered.

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Morning of June 11, 2016. Saturday.



In my dream, where I seem to somehow be a different person or character yet still feel like myself in most ways, I am an individual who has traveled around extensively and I am also seemingly a hunter in the manner of Sam and Dean Winchester from the “Supernatural” television series. I am aware that they have been called in to face the most difficult “monster” that they had ever dealt with. This creature is supposedly impossible to kill but can be subdued for a time until it rises again. It is kept in a cage on an isolated property (I assume in America, possibly Ohio) reachable by an old back road. Sam and Dean are on the scene.

I meet with them to help them at the location where the creature is presently sleeping in a cage though supposedly about to rise and kill a number of people. They seem hesitant at first but then are totally okay with me being there and both are receptive of my authority and apparent advanced skills (though on one level I know that this is pretense and that I am “creating everything under my will” even though I am not at all lucid in any way, as this is a state of awareness that I have experienced thousands of times in dream states since earliest memory).

I tell them that I know James (although I actually mean Bobby Singer), having gained much experience from him, and they seem to understand and are happy with it.

We are preparing for the upcoming battle as we are told by the owner of the property that the monster is stirring. It is apparently some sort of anthropomorphic white stork (with fur as well as feathers) with deadly far-reaching supernatural powers. We are told to get some weapons. These “weapons” turn out to be large pillow-like hessian sandbags (obvious dream sign) filled with some sort of magical concoction to help put the beast back to sleep (another obvious situational concurrent dream sign). These “pillows” which are aligned along the fence (concurrent liminal space symbol), some slightly buried (implied to be at a deeper level of concurrent awareness within the dream state), are taken out by us. I also see a few barbells in the dirt but decide we may not need these.

We go into the house and one side of a large room is like a jail. The monster is inside but starting to move around. At first it looks like a white-furred Bigfoot but it eventually becomes somewhat of an anthropomorphic stork. This stork creature is ready to attack (even though it is in the cage).

The owner of the residence opens the cage door and we go in. Sam and Dean Winchester start hitting this creature with the “pillows” as hard as they can. Powder flies through the air but not enough to lower the visibility of the scene by that much. I join in and also whack this “stork-monster” (of human height) with my “pillow”. It seems to remain dazed and never fully stands up at any point. Sam, Dean, and I soon leave this “cage” and start talking in the other area of the room with the owner.

Soon however, the creature is active again but now appears totally human; a dark-haired female of perhaps thirty. Her hands are raised up and out in mimicry of a spider or martial arts position and she is apparently a powerful destructive witch. As I stare her down, my dream becomes more and more vivid and intense. Orange lightning (conscious mind symbol) comes from her hands and her hair stands up, but I am also able to raise my own hands in defense. Simply by holding my gaze and moving my hands out and around a bit, she eventually falls back and is defeated for another cycle.

“Awesome,” says Dean as Sam smiles and nods in my direction, both from my left (even though a “witch” like me would not be liked by them in the actual television series).

After this, we all get in a car. Dean drives though Sam sits in the back seat (on my right) in Speedo swimwear. He is singing some sort of song and using words like “Speedo”, “Guido”, and “Buido” and Dean looks back at him as if greatly annoyed.

To those who understand dreams and their nature (though there are various types), this is a surreal but typical sleeping, dreaming, and waking adventure all in metaphor. Nothing could be more obvious than that than slapping a white bird with a pillow to put it to sleep (especially when inside a cage or jail which represents restricting the energies of the preconscious state). The white bird is a moon (dream induction) sign, a typical concurrent consciousness displacement symbol, and this entire series of dream events is a metaphor for circadian rhythms and the waking transition as is often the case.

The clever references in the song seem at least partly related to trolls on the Internet, unfortunately (which is something that in all honesty is pointless to dream about as nothing can really be done about them). “Guido” is a possible play on “Guido van Helten” which in turn is a play on VonHelton, the bizarre narcissistic YouTube troll, who is possibly one of the strangest personas and crazed individuals on the Internet. “Buido” apparently has various associations. However, in Spanish, it mostly seems to be a reference to something that is corrugated, fluted, or sharp. It is associated with “puntiagudo” (“pointed”) or “con punta aguda” (“with a sharp point”), which is obviously a play on my birthplace of “Punta Gorda” (or “Fat Point” in describing the shape of the region), which is a dream reference to returning to who I really am in whole consciousness, as a sort of “rebirth”.

Morning of June 9, 2016. Thursday.



I am in an unfamiliar location. It seems to be near the front area of an unknown building. The building is apparently shaped like a square with a notch near where the entrance is. I seem semi-incorporeal at first, yet almost as if lying down so that I can only see part of the sky, with the extended area on each side as well as the eaves of the main entrance blocking much of it.

Looking up, I see a helicopter, but it turns in the area of about where the center of the building would be. Soon, it comes back but is now a spaceship. This happens several times; helicopter, spaceship, helicopter, spaceship, more so as if it is otherwise the “same” each time and I am not perceiving it correctly. My illusory dream self’s clarity is not very good at all related to trying to discern what is in the sky.

Eventually, Josh Holloway (the actor who played James “Sawyer” Ford on the television series “Lost”) appears. He is going to drive me and some other people, including my wife Zsuzsanna and possibly also my (deceased) sister Marilyn and her husband somewhere. At that point, we seem to be on the old Highway Seventeen yet prepared to go south (which makes no sense as my sister lived north of Cubitis and in Wisconsin, about 1,500 miles away).

Josh seems cheerful. My dream self does not perceive him as either an actor or as a character from television. He is apparently going to give me $8,000.00 at the exact moment I am waking (though I remain without lucidity until waking). This last scene occurs after a quick scene change of having been in his car (before he drives anywhere) and when there is uncertainty over whether I am going to our home (with a slight association with King Street, even though Zsuzsanna and our children had never been to America) or Loomis Street. My dream is very distorted and illogical. Even if we were going all that way (from Cubitis to King Street or Loomis Street), we would be facing north, not south.

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The cause of this dream was vestibular system correlation (the most common cause, more than once per sleep cycle). Helicopters are a more defined association with vestibular system dynamics due to the spinning of the rotor blade. Additionally, “the common dream state acknowledgement of The Sleeper” factor is present.

Dreams like this do not have “interpretations” as they are autosymbolic of the processes of the dream state and waking transition itself.

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I explain this dream type further in “Dreams of Type PRECONAV-VSCPCEL, 01-15”.

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