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The dream starts off in a well organized, modern looking house that has an open concept kitchen/dinig room/living room combo. There are two old ladies having tea and an a man who looks like Tommy Chong who has the front of his shirt rolled inwardly half way up his abdomen. They are sitting in the living room part and I watch them with amusement because their behaviour is silly and spacey as if they were high on drugs or something. The old man gets up and leaves and the two old ladies go into the kitchen area which is elevated from the living room and dining areas.

I follow them and notice that the kitchen counters are covered with weather worn peices of driftwood, many of which are flat like serving trays. Upon the driftwood trays are an assortment of natual objects: bleached animal skulls and bones, pine cones, sea shells, dried flowers and feathers, and other such things. At the far end of the counter is a picture frame that has been decorated with leis an flower petals. The image in the picture is a smiling man who looks like a East Indian guru.

One of the old ladies take a white, ashy substance and smears three verticle lines on her forehead and then starts chanting in what sounds like Hindu and begins dancing wildly around the kitchen. I retreat down into the dining area to give her space but continue watching. The chanting old lady goes over to the other old lady (who is keeping pace with the chanting my clapping her hands) and blesses or shares energy with her with a sweeping motion from the front of her face to the top of her head and then down over the shoulders.

I turn my attention away from the old ladies for a moment and notice a coffee table upon which are many hand-blown glass ornaments. I turn my attention to back to the dancing and chanting old lady and try to make sense of what she is saying. She is repeating "Nahm Devali, Om Devali" over and over again. As she is chanting she takes the white ashy substance and smears a vertical line on the other old lady's forehead.

Suddenly the living room and dining room area is full of people, dancing and socalizing casually. Since the wild dancing has stopped I go back up into the kitchen to the first old lady who has been chanting, but I have to squeeze by many of the people who have appeared. The old lady is waiting for me with a big smile on her face. Before I can say anything she introduced herself as a Jody with a "y." I tell her that my name is also Jodie, but it is spelled with an "ie." She laughs and says "Isn't that cool!?"

More people come into the house and I turn around to leave the kitchen, because it is becoming quite crowded, and see my mother at the bottom of the stairs, smiling at me. She looks very peaceful and content, but doesn't say anything. I wander around the crowded living area observing all the people and eventually notice an elderly North American indian man dressed as a Plains Indian Chief. I ask him if he can teach me how to bleach animal bones and he kindly and amusingly replies "Why don't you teach yourself?"

I understand that he means that I should not be afraid to try things out for myself and I thank him to which he responds with a big smile.


The dream ends there.

I am a young east Indian woman living in an impoverished area with near a beach. I live with my husband, his parents, and another woman whom I call Auntie. My mother-in-law (MIL) and Auntie dote on me because I have no family of my own and I am pregnant. My husband and my father-in-law (FIL) work long hours during the day and are not around very often. In many ways the family is very traditional, but in other ways surprisingly liberal, as they permitted the marriage to my husband even though I was already pregnant with someone else's child. MIL and Auntie are convinced the child will be a boy, FIL remains silent on the issue, and my husband (who is always very kind to me) thinks it will be a girl becuase everyone else thinks it will be a boy. I do not tell my family, but somehow I instinctively or psychically know what the gender of the child is, and it is a girl.

The dream jumps ahead a few months and I have given birth to a girl like I knew I would. Despite wanting a boy, MIL and Auntie are happy to have a new addition to the family. The dreams jumps ahead again (it does this frequently) to when I am pregnant with my second child. I psychically know the child will be a boy but say nothing to the family since I know they are all hoping for a boy anyway. About the time I give birth to my son, FIL retires and it is up to my husband to support all of us by himself. We care very much for each other but we rarely get to spend time along together because of family obligations or one or both of us being too exhausted.

The dreams jumps ahead again. My daughter is now five years old and my son is now two. I am pregnant yet again. I have grown very close to MIL and Auntie but their traditional superstitions have them believing that bad fortune will befall the family soon. Unlike the previous pregnancies I have trouble telling what gender this child will be. I think it is a boy, though every time I close my eyes, put my hands on my belly and concentrate, a horrible sense of coldness and dread overcome me, but not because I sence anything evil, more like I am being engulfed in a vast, endless dark void. I do not tell anyone of these feelings.

Bad fortune does seem to befall the family early in my pregnancy though, as my husband loses his job, Auntie turns to prostituion for money, MIL falls ill and FIL becomes very depressed. FIL will not eat and soon he falls sick and dies. We have very little money from Auntie's street walking to buy food, and thus definately cannot afford to pay for creamation or ceremonial rites, so we have no choice but to leave FIL's body rotting in the streets just outside of our dismal hovel. MIL is soon consumed by a similar dispair that took FIL and we all fear that she will die soon. One night Auntie goes out to work the streets and never returns and all we can do is assume the worst.

When I am eight months pregnant a tall skinny man arrives at the door of our meger lodgings and claims to be my brother (he does look like one of my bros in real life actually). He says that he is worried about me having so many children and thinks that I should stop. My husband and MIL throw him out and warn him never to come back. The next morning there is a basket of fresh white lotus flowers outside of our door, which I am able to sell to street vendors and pedestrians for a few coins each because they are considered good luck by many people. MIL wants me to keep one for myself but I ignore her and sell the last one because I want to be able to afford to feed my newborn when it comes along. Almost immediately a terrible pain erupts in my abdomen and blood starts gushing from my vagina. I somehow make my way home, but it is too late - I have miscarried what would have been my second son. MIL and my husband are very sad and they shun me for awhile, which makes my grief over losing my third child even worse.

The dreams jumps ahead again and our family is experiencing more favourable times. I am close to MIL again, who is no longer sick or depressed, my husband is employed again, our surviving children are healthy and being educated, and I am pregnant again. This one is going to be a girl and I tell my MIL that I am able to predict the gender of the child, but didn't say anything before out of fear of being accused of insanity or witchcraft and being thrown out of the house. To my surprise MIL is very happy at my psychic ability and tries to convince me to use my powers to make money. I refuse because I fear that if I reveal to some expecting couples that they will have a girl rather than a boy, they will then voluntarily abort the female fetus or abandon the baby girl upon birth (which is a very real problem in India actually).


The dream ends there.

I believe this may be a past life dream.

Morning of June 2, 1998. Tuesday.

Reading time: 54 sec. Readability score: 57.



I deliberately step into an interesting street scene, but during a sequence of more quickly changing settings when the human forms have not stabilized. (Dream characters usually transform at the rate of about once per second in the first dreaming stage of the sleep cycle, until I allow them to stabilize, though they also sometimes melt into and out of each other during these stages.)

A group of East Indian men (most from about thirty to forty years of age) approaches, some in traditional clothes, some in suits. They are carrying what I think is a casket. Moving closer, hovering in an incorporeal form while maintaining vestibular system correlation, I see the lid is now off. The “casket” contains long yellow candles (emerging consciousness color) aligned in the box lengthwise end to end. One of them alights, and I hear a male ahead of the group say, “Oh, look at that,” more in wonder and respect than surprise or alarm, and I wake softly, feeling alert and well. There is an essence of magic, though not “real” magic, only the knowledge of the dream state and how to mediate and modulate it.

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The “lighting a candle” process is a thread (both in infra-awareness and lucidity as here) that I have used since early childhood to more clearly define my conscious self’s existence, especially with incidental sleep apnea, though which is quite rare and is not a factor in this case.

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