DoubleHelix

6/26/16: The recollection of this dream commences with me attempting to troubleshoot and restore electricity in a partially built home by tying together several electric wire pig-tails inside a wall outlet. I need to go into the basement to see if the repair has restored electricity in the lowest level of this partially built house. For some inexplicable reason I believe the house belongs to Scott.

The scene shifts and I am walking on an upper floor whose rooms are bare studs with no sheet rock. I open and close a sliding window whose glass is shaped like a bowl bending outwards. The glass is broken, but the window slides up to open and down to close. I turn away from this room which I believe is to be a future bathroom based upon its relatively small size. Almost immediately upon leaving the room I encounter a huge, fully grown male lion which is resting comfortably with its eyes lightly closed and front paws crossed. Roused from its sleep, it takes notice of me, but makes no immediate move towards me.

I squeeze my shoulders through the spacing of two studs as this is the shortest and fastest path away from the perceived danger. I climb down and out of the house in moderate alarm and begin fast walking and ultimately running down the street filled mostly with children, supervised by a handful of adults. I call to them to alert them to the danger. Instead of running away, curiosity seems to compel them to enter the house to observe the lion for themselves, apparently oblivious to the danger.

As I flee the scene I slowly realize that I am larger, faster and further than the easier potential victims which the children represent. Nonetheless I am sweaty with fear and the effort from running. My sweaty hands hamper my ability to shed a pair of thick garden gloves which I am trying to remove as I run. I end up having to pull each finger out of the glove using my teeth in order to get the hot, moist gloves off and throw them to the ground. I wake.

June 14, 2016: #3 of 3: With no prior recollection as to how or why, I find myself falling through the sky like a parachute jumper above a dense forest over a sprawling, stone medieval castle. I appear to be approximately 3,000 feet in the air falling at terminal velocity. The panoramic view of the forest and the castle (at about my 2:00) is very realistic. The shock and surprise of falling causes me to become immediately lucid. I am falling, not flying. I have no more control over my flight path than a parachute jumper would ordinarily have. I suspect this dream content was prompted by the Game of Thrones episode I watched with my wife L. prior to going to bed.

The sensation of weightless falling is very striking and enjoyable. For an inexplicable reason I am not concerned about hitting the ground. Perhaps I am wearing a parachute. Instead of feeling a rushing wind, my entire body has the sensation of a very powerful, extremely pleasant tingling. I observe the tree tops rushing up to meet me at a furious pace, but I am 100% aware this is a dream. In order to prolong the sensation of falling and the tingling associated with this, I somehow manage to “roll back” the dream to a higher altitude so that I can fall again. This succeeds even though I don’t know how I did it. I have no recollection of hitting or touching the ground. As with all my non-lucid falling dreams I wake before I hit the ground.

June 14, 2016: #2 of 3: I am in what appears to be a head shop examining various pipes made for the purpose of smoking marijuana. They are very cleverly made out of various materials such as wood, glass, and stone. One of the pipes is very intricately carved out of wood. It has a recess for your chin which places the outlet of the pipe right at your lips. It is intended more as a work of art and sculpture than as a practical means for smoking pot. It appears to be carved out of mahogany or some other dark, hard wood. I pick it up, examine it closely, and even fit it to my chin to see how it works. I wake.

June 14, 2016: #1 of 3: I find myself waiting for a preoperative patient at the nurses desk outside of the operating room holding area. I greet and shake hands with P**** R***. I grow bored waiting for the patient to arrive so I decide to go to my car in the parking lot to listen to some music. As I settle into my car I realize that my beeper has a broken button and is probably not operational.

I suddenly grow concerned that I might be late in my arrival to the operating room. I struggle to find the correct entrance to the hospital. I wander around an area that closely resembles the outside garden area of the Home Depot and another area, seemingly indoors, which has corridor after corridor of home goods for sale, almost like a Target, Walmart, or grocery store. I asked several dream characters for directions into the hospital, but no one is particularly helpful.

After a great effort and much fretting, I finally arrive at the doctor's lounge. I realized that I have dried blood on my right wrist from the prior case. A discussion ensues with the dream character who is evidently an anesthesiologist. As I wash off the blood I remark how easily body temperature blood can get on your skin without you realizing it. I wake. The time is 3:23.am.

June 8, 2016: I am in a crowd of people who are using a knotted rope to swing into a large pile of sand as if it were water in a lake. This was something I wanted to try. When it came to my to be my turn however, instead of one giant pile of sand there was only one medium sized pile of sand amongst multiple piles of coarse pea gravel. Also, there was a long dinner table covered with a white tablecloth running parallel to all the piles which was between where the rope hung and the sand & gravel piles, which greatly limited my ability to swing in the appropriate direction in order to land on the one pile which contained the fine grained sand.

I walk about the table holding onto the rope trying to calculate which direction I could run while grasping the rope that would lift me over the table and simultaneously result in my landing in the sand as opposed to the piles of more coarse material. As I size up my potential trajectory I notice there is a tall chain link fence on the far side of all the piles only inches away. I realize that the fence and dinner table are an absolute bar to a successful jump into the sand pile and so I must abandon my attempt. I wake.

May 27, 2016: #1 of 2: L. and I are performing renovations on the house. I walk outside the front door and pass our open garage bay and observed numerous brown boxes of various sizes which apparently contain nails, shingles, and other construction materials which so occupy the garage that the garage bay door cannot be closed. I walk onto the side lawn and observe an immense tree with a large triangular hollow at the base between the roots which looks like an animal’s den. A small white dog appears next to my right leg and starts to sniff, paw and explore the entrance area of the hollow of the tree. An orange and white tabby cat suddenly flees from the tree and is lost to sight. After the cat runs away the dog starts pawing at what appears to be bedding material made out of strips of soft foam within the hollow of the tree. The dog pulls out several strips of blankets and closed cell neoprene-like foam which is yellowish from exposure to the elements and/or sun.

I walk back towards the house as it begins to rain. The rain is getting heavier as I pass the garage. I see that the outermost boxes are getting wet. When I enter the house L. is washing down a wall of what appears to be our future kitchen with a large yellow sponge. She is wearing only a pair of tight jeans and a brassiere. I asked her if it's okay for the outermost boxes in the garage to get wet and she says "yes." I tell her to show me her tits and she does. They look slightly smaller and she appears somewhat younger than in real life. I wake. The time is 4:29 AM.

May 27, 2016: #2: I find myself swimming in a large body of water about 300 yards from a mountainous shore. I am in the company of a female dream character on a raft. I am attempting to swim back to shore, and as I do so I pass numerous pieces of debris floating in the water such as peach baskets and empty wine bottles. I grow very concerned that this debris will attract bait fish, and therefore larger predatory fish such as sharks.

The scene shifts. I find myself back on shore where there is a party underway. I quickly realized that I am the host of the party. As I'm walking through the crowd D. K. throws a football to me. Because there are so many people I can't quite reach the ball and it hits my outstretched hands, and I drop it. I pick it up and throw it back to him underhanded. I make my way to a long table which has food laid out on it, much of which I can't identify. I place onto my plate a round disk of cheese about the size of a hockey puck which appears to be coated with shredded coconut. I wake. The time is 6:05 AM.