WAKING LIFE DREAMING LUCID BOLD IF IT FEELS PARTICULARLY SIGNIFICANT *This is a very rough draft* Waves and Child in the ocean, swimming around for a while a ways out from shore looking below, at the sea floor Then after a time, I head back toward shore Jen’s (high school friend) old car in the ocean closer to shore I got in a large wave hit it Jen came she was upset I went back to shore, the waves getting higher a child there too with me standing in the water together i feel protective of the child the child says they (boy or girl?) see an octopus wrapping around my foot? I get scared though I love octopi think I see it a ways off under the water I walk fearfully out of the water the waves getting larger I'm wondering how large they’ll get (Often in my dreams the tidal waves grow to become inescapably vast) the child and I go to higher ground watch the waves getting higher splashing past where we’d been going to even higher ground my dad is there with us a beautiful, panoramic view of the ocean from where we are we are atop maybe a 300 foot cliff houses below closer to the beach water rushing past them in a thin sheet, curving and splashing up the cliff far below us in a big sheet that splashes at its far reaches my dad is concerned about the waves, scared and determined to do things he knows he has to do about the waves, to help other people I think he leaves us
Updated 04-20-2011 at 01:11 AM by 44605
WAKING LIFE DREAMING LUCID BOLD IF IT FEELS PARTICULARLY SIGNIFICANT From the night before last *This is a veeeery rough draft that I may or may not get around to cleaning up* A Boy to Include? a blond boy joined us cheap necklace/pendant I had one in the same symbol too (on reflection, i don't recognize it) ashamed? that mine was a weak metal it looked somewhat interesting though I didn’t mean to make a wet towel hanging high on a hook on the wall fall. caught it and the wrist watch that had been laid atop it, tried to put them back as they were. I wondered at the dampness near the watch I was 13-17 the boy was maybe 11 we debated over if he was too young
WAKING LIFE DREAMING LUCID BOLD IF IT FEELS PARTICULARLY SIGNIFICANT From the night before last *This is a rough draft that I may or may not get around to cleaning up more* There was a slow, tribal, quiet, calm quality to this dream, like the feel of winter. I felt more a part of everything, to the extent that my identity’s separation from the other people in the tribe was vague, as if I was all of them, except the young woman leading the horse. One horse knew the way back to our yearly (sacred, I think) place. No humans knew. we all followed. the horse (Neil was his name?) was in front, without a person riding. someone walking besides him so that he would be able to lead. the person still held his reigns loosely. the rest of us on our horses. A very long trek, at least a day. We realized we’d lost them. we sped up. Lots of deep snow around as we walked the trail. Then we went downhill a little and it felt like we were in another land. the trail disappeared. Widely spaced, tall trees. The snow looked like it had been blown in exceptional ways. So thin with large mottles on wide scalloped shaped indistinct paths on the ground, like when it is blown off the road and looks like mottled smoke. That magic feeling I get in dreams, where the beauty infuses me. We were there. Or very close. Still looking for the head horse and his companion. Searching, searching. After a while of concerned searching, concentrating on which smoke-blown path felt right, I saw them coming down one of the paths toward us. The horse was hurt. We went over to them and we saw how badly the horse was hurt. A wide gash to the bone in its front right thigh. Then I saw the leg was missing below. There was a metal plate inside the gash. The girl who had been leading him said she put it there for the horse to heal, but it wasn’t going to help, we knew. The horse had been given an antibiotic but that is not what we called it in the dream. We inspected the gash and went to touch the metal to pull it out so it could heal properly but the girl warned us that it was so painful and infected to the extent that the pain would make the horse go crazy. We understood and sat back, waiting for the antibiotic/pain medication to take effect so we could treat the horse. The horse’s leg had been severed completely (under where this deep gash was?) On reflection (though perhaps it was the calm quality to the dream) I/we felt sadness yet acceptance as well. Something of a treasure, sacred and deep, was potentially leaving us.
WAKING LIFE DREAMING LUCID BOLD IF IT FEELS PARTICULARLY SIGNIFICANT From the night before last *This is a rough draft that I may or may not get around to cleaning up more* I woke, trailing out of a dream. I tried to remember but was disappointed that I didn’t. Then the dreams started to come back to me. Dad, mom, a friend from college, and maybe another friend (best friend from high school?) sitting (on a bed or floor with cushions?). Comfort but not a lot of affection, not needy affection at least. Calmly focused. I was asking questions about what happened when I was a child (about traumas that occurred). It was observed that I wasn’t as angry as usual. I told them yeah, I don’t get so angry now when talking about my childhood traumas with dad. I say “I just got tired of being angry,” feeling very heartfelt and with a glimpse of that exhaustion. “Now I just ask questions about what happened.” Dad agreed, though he still didn’t like to talk about the what. The 4 or 5 of us discussed the change in my questions about childhood traumas and if it was a good thing. My college friend appreciated my change (in the face of others having concerns about it).
WAKING LIFE DREAMING LUCID BOLD IF IT FEELS PARTICULARLY SIGNIFICANT From the morning after the night before the night before last Not Intending to Lucid Dream makes me Hungry I woke at least 4 times throughout the “night” (I have a freakish sleep schedule) and remembered dreams but felt very much a part of them still, like their sounds and visuals were only fading, not gone. I wondered if I was creating them and tried to go back in, though I didn’t think about lucid dreaming. It didn’t cross my mind and I feel that that is good in some way, like I needed to experience my emotions as a “DC” in this dream, that otherwise I could interfere with the purpose of the dream. Or maybe I’m justifying that I was forgetful of lucid intentions. Nah, don’t think so. :p On a side not, I woke up HUNGRY! Arng arng arng. Where’s the protein?!
WAKING LIFE DREAMING LUCID BOLD IF IT FEELS PARTICULARLY SIGNIFICANT FFEDCIDD Practice FFEDCIDD = Face, Feel, Expand, Dissipate, Coalesce, Integrate, Decide, Do Jealousy roaring up. Expanded about a foot from my body. specks of contained heat (but not touchable?) It was like an insulation, a bit spongy. Jealousy felt bizarre - that might have been the first time I’ve really let myself feel it. I have memories of stuffing it down because it was unattractive. A loose approximation (more like just a pretty thing that had similar colors) by fleicap Under it a sadness centered in my gut, heart, and throat. The sadness (or maybe my mental reflections on it) brought me to memories of soothing myself as a child by crying into a mirror alone. I feel a lot of resistance to posting that little intimate detail, so maybe forcing myself is the way to go. Gah, I’m not always this serious, an insecure voice inside me is sharply whining and pushing.
Updated 04-19-2011 at 07:31 PM by 44605
WAKING LIFE DREAMING LUCID BOLD IF IT FEELS PARTICULARLY SIGNIFICANT This dream is from the night before the night before last Book-ended Children Children running down a sloping sidewalk that curved back and forth. Stone wall along the sidewalk. Cobblestone ground. My consciousness looking down on them as they ran toward “me”. Saying to myself I remember this, I remember reading this. My mom was showing me another reel. There was something forced about what the children were doing. they didn’t like it but they did relatively well at pretending. I think I knew more about why, that it had something to do with the parents, but I don’t recall now. Mom put on another old reel. it seemed to be of my father’s side of the family. I knew he would like to see it and wondered at my mom having it instead of him. In waking life my father idealizes tradition and is also an extraordinarily creative and brilliant man. I think he idealizes being a child, simple carefree yet responsible times. He was a “hippie” black sheep in his family when he was younger. That side of my family had a lot of power that was used for massive capitalistic gains and political influence. There is corruption, greed, addiction, and yet amazing intelligence and creativity smattered around the people. I am curious and feel it is important to know more about this family history. It also makes me feel sick to think of knowing more. My fascination and desire to know the different sides of my family (and myself) usually wins out, though. Well, at least in the internal battles of which I am aware. I watched the reel on an old contraption that displayed more like a television than a projector. My mom stood to the side, close to the moving picture. Soft thwacking noises like an old projector. I could almost see the frames as they shuffled past, specks and lines of light flashing and morphing with them. A man (I think a/the/[my?] father), somber and proud like in older photographs, sat on the right, looking at the camera. The children to the left of him in their sitting positions, and then sat a huge man in a tuxedo complete with tailcoat. The two men were like bookends, the children between them. We’d only been watching it a minute, and mom already wanted to change reels. I said no, I want to see them when they move. I said their body language would be very significant, would show me more about who they actually are. It felt intensely important and I was riveted. The large, hulking man stood and walked to the right. Maybe 8 or 9 feet tall, who knows, maybe 10. Big, round belly, sloped shoulders. (He reminds me of the way my maternal grandpa looked when he was dying of cancer, that same kind of oval shape, but much more extreme, and more solid and thick.) I didn’t think he was a family member of mine. The father (it was my impression I think, though perhaps it was a waking reflection) stood and slowly walked to the right. I watched his body carefully (from where the audience would be if there was one) and couldn’t tell much about him from the way he walked. It was so slow, as if he was favoring physical pain. His stiffness swallowed up his personality. There were a lot of dream characters projecting their personae in this dream, like they were conforming to older, more serious social pressures. Personae that were hollow yet strong. Weak, deep, and shallow and full of tightly woven rules. I feel an association between the father dream character and my paternal great grandfather, father of my father's father. I never knew him. It makes sense, given my grandfather’s and his brother’s dichotomies, success and greed for one, creativity and susceptibility in the other. Or so I've interpreted and oversimplified. The trickle of this history of family emotions is a reason I think this song taps a large body of water inside me. “I am out here studying stones trying to learn to be less alive using all of my will to keep very still still even on the inside I've cut all the pertinent wires so my eyes won't make their connections I am holding my breath I am feigning my death when I'm looking in your direction ...when all the forbidden fruit is fallen and rotted well that's when I'm gonna come down" Even if they’re partial hogwash, I feel love flowing from new understandings.
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