I dreamed this morning that I was back in Summit House (a preferred prisoner housing unit without bars or concrete walls at the McNeil Island prison in the 1980's). I had some dirty laundry and was trying to find my way downstairs to the laundry room but the stairs had been moved. When I found them, on the wrong side of the stairwell, I went down and discovered that all the halls and doorways - including the main entrance and exit - were walled up with bricks! But, there was one small door that looked like a utility or maintenance closet. When I opened it and looked inside, sure enough, I saw a dimly lit room that had a dirt floor with various pipes, ducts and conduits running through it mostly along the walls. But, I also saw a long and wide tunnel in place of one wall that looked like it extended out far beyond the prison perimeter security fences then opened up to the outside. It was a way out of prison.
At first I thought it must be a trap. But, then I realized it didn't make any sense for there to be a trap like that, in fact, the whole situation, I suddenly realized, didn't make any sense. At that point I thought I must be dreaming, though I wasn't 100% certain. But, I decided if it was a dream then no harm could come from exploring the tunnel. So I did.
I went through the tunnel and exited on a paved area next to a warehouse. I seemed to be in some sort of warehouse district. There was a six-foot high chainlink fence that ran along one side of the roadway I was on and a warehouse on the other. I walked the length of the warehouse hoping to find something interesting, but the fence curved around then end of the warehouse and forced me back toward the tunnel I had come through, but only on the otherside of the warehouse.
At one point I saw a very interesting looking all glass house on the otherside of the six-foot fence that hemmed me in, about two-hundred yards away across an overgrown grass field. The house was brightly lit from the inside (it was dark out in my dream) which made it stand out beautifully. I wanted to take a closer look, so I began to climb the fence.
But, I couldn't get over the top, and I somehow started sliding down the fence as I hung onto it trying to get over. I was moving away from my goal of reaching the glass house, so I let go and fell back on the paved warehouse-side of the fence.
Then I got mad and thought, whose dream is this anyway? This is my dream! I should be able to go where I want! So I redoubled my determination to get over the fence as I grabbed it to pull myself up. This time when I got to the top I saw another fence, just like the one I was on, not twenty-feet away. That other fence wasn't there before. I realized that someone or something was deliberately trying to discourage me from going where I wanted to go.
That only made me even more determined than ever. So, I stood up on top of the fence and leaped into the air, trusting from dream experience that such a leap would result in my becoming airborn. And indeed I flew! I flew up about fifty-feet and easily cleared the second fence, though I was much higher in the air than I needed to be and promptly began to fall!
But, I also knew that I would not hit the ground. Experience told me to just relax; my dream would not let me get hurt, and once I was down I could continue to the house. So I just turned over on my back as I fell, expecting to be levitated again before hitting the ground. But, instead - and very much to my surprize - I hit the ground hard, flat on my back, with enough force to knock the wind out of me.
I was stunned, to say the least. Especially since at that exact moment of impact the dream ended, and I physically raised my arm - threw it into the air actually - as I woke to try to compensate for the impact I had just felt.
Wow! It seems clear that I was forcefully ejected from my own dream, and clearly because I refused to accept my containment. That was the firs time I'd ever hit the ground from a fall in a dream that I can remember. Here is the question I am now forced to ask: Is there an intelligent force, other than my own, somehow preventing me from exploring my own dreams? I have had other lucid dreams recently that were similar to the one just described, though until now I had not been so forcefully ejected, but in every case I have been clearly discouraged and prevented from exploring my own dream. None of the books I have been reading recently on lucid dreaming have mentioned this problem. In fact, they all express unrestricted freedom once lucid state is achieved. Could this also be the reason I have been having so few lucid dreams despite so much effort which in the past resulted in many lucid dreams?
It is a mystery I fully intend to pursue. I don't know, but I'm inclined to believe that some other intelligence than my own is involved, and hopefully I will be able to find a way to converse with it, or maybe learn how to listen to what it's trying to tell me.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Dream Comments
One of the reasons I keep this dream blog, and the primary reason I am so fascinated by all dreams (mine, or anyone else's), is because I believe dreams are the best clue we have into the nature of consciousness itself. I'm not as interested in the interpretations of dreams as I am in the mechanical aspects. That is, what can and cannot be done in dreams? Or, what precisely is the difference between dream experience and "real" experience? And, how exactly are they the same?
Just now I awoke from my morning siesta in which I was having a typical dream as I woke up. I somehow managed to retain the thread of consciousness as my mind slid from the dream state back to reality (or rather, what we call reality). As I did this I noticed the dream experience transitioned into a narrative that I myself was dictating or "making up" as the dream went along. In other words, it was like I had caught the man behind the curtain, and that man was me! One minute I was talking to someone on the phone in the dream world, and the next I was merely imagining the conversation I was having and inventing the words of the other person I was talking to as well as my own. The dream went from dream experience to simple and ordinary imagination without skipping a beat.
If this type of transition had only occured once or twice then I would register it as interesting, but not give it much significance. Perhaps it could be just some sort of trick of the dream consciousness, or even just an anomaly. But, I have experienced these types of transitions, where I "catch" myself imaging the dream as it goes along, several times (though they are rare). That makes me wonder, is a dream no more than an unconsciously imagined or invented story that our brain then translates for us into an actual experience? And if so, then might "reality" be no more than a similarly imagined story that some superconscious being is narrating, and inventing as He goes along, as well?
I realize of course that I'm not the first person to ever propose such a question about the nature of reality. But, i only do so now because of the experience I had this morning of that exact thing seeming to happen, at least on a personal level. So why shouldn't it happen on a cosmic level?
Just now I awoke from my morning siesta in which I was having a typical dream as I woke up. I somehow managed to retain the thread of consciousness as my mind slid from the dream state back to reality (or rather, what we call reality). As I did this I noticed the dream experience transitioned into a narrative that I myself was dictating or "making up" as the dream went along. In other words, it was like I had caught the man behind the curtain, and that man was me! One minute I was talking to someone on the phone in the dream world, and the next I was merely imagining the conversation I was having and inventing the words of the other person I was talking to as well as my own. The dream went from dream experience to simple and ordinary imagination without skipping a beat.
If this type of transition had only occured once or twice then I would register it as interesting, but not give it much significance. Perhaps it could be just some sort of trick of the dream consciousness, or even just an anomaly. But, I have experienced these types of transitions, where I "catch" myself imaging the dream as it goes along, several times (though they are rare). That makes me wonder, is a dream no more than an unconsciously imagined or invented story that our brain then translates for us into an actual experience? And if so, then might "reality" be no more than a similarly imagined story that some superconscious being is narrating, and inventing as He goes along, as well?
I realize of course that I'm not the first person to ever propose such a question about the nature of reality. But, i only do so now because of the experience I had this morning of that exact thing seeming to happen, at least on a personal level. So why shouldn't it happen on a cosmic level?
Sunday, September 23, 2012
1-800 HELL
Shortly after my arrest in 2005 I had a disturbing dream that I am only now able to understand at all. I may have written it down in a journal I was keeping at the time, but I don't recall ever talking to anyone about it.
The dream had an obvious interpretation that did not make any sense to me. I was afraid that if I told anyone about it that they would draw the only conclusion that the dream seemed to offer: that I belonged in Hell!
It was a lucid dream, which is to say that it was vivid, with clear details, and I was fully conscious of the fact that I was in a dream and that in “reality” I was asleep in a jail cell awaiting prosecution for capital murder and kidnapping.
At the time of this dream I was still struggling consciously (while awake and asleep) to sort out what had happened, and why I had surrendered to the police. A strong feeling that pervaded my thoughts and feelings at the time was a sense of having joined some mystical community that as yet remained a mystery to me. While I could distinctly feel a sense of belonging to this community, I could not otherwise identify its existence. I thought maybe that the community was purely “spiritual” with little or no real counterpart in the “physical” world.
The dream I had seemed to be yet another manifestation of that sense of belonging to some mystical community. In the dream I found myself standing in the foyer of a congregation hall, like a church, but not a church. I approached the main entrance to the hall, large double doors that were wide open and through which I could see a large gathering of people apparently waiting for some ceremony to begin.
I thought maybe they were waiting for me. But as I approached the entrance, two large male porters who were standing there turned and took notice of me.
They seemed to recognize me immediately, but not in any positive way at all. In fact, one of them exclaimed, “How did you get here?” implying by his tone that I definitely did not belong.
Then, without waiting for me to answer (I tried to explain to them that I was having a lucid dream and that I wanted to be a part of their congregation, but I never got the chance) they quickly took me by the arms and shuffled me toward a coatroom, where an attendant was waiting.
The same porter who spoke the first time indicated to the coatroom attendant that he should retain me, and then told him (and this part I remember clearly), “Call 1-800 HELL”
Then I woke up (or, rather, found myself suddenly back in my jail cell) with the clear impression that I was not wanted in that congregation.
What confused me was that these men clearly judged me, apparently without cause. Even then I understood that such judgement was not conducive to an enlightened body of people. I should have been accepted and loved, especially since I had sincerely repented my ignorance (and my “crimes”). So why was I so harshly and brashly judged?
Well, I think I have finally come to an understanding. I think that perhaps because I was still alive (i.e. had a physical body) that the condemnation to “hell” did not have to be eternal. In other words, I was being “sent back” for more work.
Actually, I'm still not sure what the dream meant. But at least I now have a plausible explanation. Maybe hell is no more than some kind of soul smetter, and my soul was yet to be fired. Or maybe that's just one definition, or purpose, of hell. I'm not going to pretend I know what hell or heaven is. But if they exist at all then they must have some reason to exist beside simple reward and punishment.
The dream had an obvious interpretation that did not make any sense to me. I was afraid that if I told anyone about it that they would draw the only conclusion that the dream seemed to offer: that I belonged in Hell!
It was a lucid dream, which is to say that it was vivid, with clear details, and I was fully conscious of the fact that I was in a dream and that in “reality” I was asleep in a jail cell awaiting prosecution for capital murder and kidnapping.
At the time of this dream I was still struggling consciously (while awake and asleep) to sort out what had happened, and why I had surrendered to the police. A strong feeling that pervaded my thoughts and feelings at the time was a sense of having joined some mystical community that as yet remained a mystery to me. While I could distinctly feel a sense of belonging to this community, I could not otherwise identify its existence. I thought maybe that the community was purely “spiritual” with little or no real counterpart in the “physical” world.
The dream I had seemed to be yet another manifestation of that sense of belonging to some mystical community. In the dream I found myself standing in the foyer of a congregation hall, like a church, but not a church. I approached the main entrance to the hall, large double doors that were wide open and through which I could see a large gathering of people apparently waiting for some ceremony to begin.
I thought maybe they were waiting for me. But as I approached the entrance, two large male porters who were standing there turned and took notice of me.
They seemed to recognize me immediately, but not in any positive way at all. In fact, one of them exclaimed, “How did you get here?” implying by his tone that I definitely did not belong.
Then, without waiting for me to answer (I tried to explain to them that I was having a lucid dream and that I wanted to be a part of their congregation, but I never got the chance) they quickly took me by the arms and shuffled me toward a coatroom, where an attendant was waiting.
The same porter who spoke the first time indicated to the coatroom attendant that he should retain me, and then told him (and this part I remember clearly), “Call 1-800 HELL”
Then I woke up (or, rather, found myself suddenly back in my jail cell) with the clear impression that I was not wanted in that congregation.
What confused me was that these men clearly judged me, apparently without cause. Even then I understood that such judgement was not conducive to an enlightened body of people. I should have been accepted and loved, especially since I had sincerely repented my ignorance (and my “crimes”). So why was I so harshly and brashly judged?
Well, I think I have finally come to an understanding. I think that perhaps because I was still alive (i.e. had a physical body) that the condemnation to “hell” did not have to be eternal. In other words, I was being “sent back” for more work.
Actually, I'm still not sure what the dream meant. But at least I now have a plausible explanation. Maybe hell is no more than some kind of soul smetter, and my soul was yet to be fired. Or maybe that's just one definition, or purpose, of hell. I'm not going to pretend I know what hell or heaven is. But if they exist at all then they must have some reason to exist beside simple reward and punishment.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Gap Chasm Dream
Last night I dreamed I was in a wheelchair and a man offered to help by pushing it for me. But I told him it was okay because I really didn't need the wheelchair, I just used it to help carry my "stuff". Then I go up out of the chair to show him, and he left.
I got back in the chair and continued wheeling toward a lake that I intended to go scuba diving in (I was just returning after retrieving a scuba mask and a towel so I could do so). Suddenly there was a drop-off and I jump out of the chair just before the chair itself went over the edge. I could see the chair had fallen about twenty feet into a chasm that was about fifteen feet wide with dirt walls. I knew I had to cross the chasm to get to the lake, so I found a spot that I was somehow familiar with and started to climb down.
But, I lost my footing and started to fall. Instead of panicking though I pushed away from the wall just enough so I could see the vines and grab them to slow my fall. Thus I reached the bottom safely. When I went to retrieve the chair though it was gone! Now I panicked. I thought, how could it be gone? It was only out of my sight for a moment and there was no one else around. Or was there?
I suddenly remembered that a wise friend had told me that Gremlins could steal things and take them back to their lairs without anyone seeing them. He also showed me how to find a gremlins lair, but I had to move fast, as soon as the item went missing.
So I ran off down the bottom of the chasm which soon opened up into a rocky valley. I knew what direction I needed to go in hopes of retrieving the wheelchair, but then I saw a large tyrannosaur-like creature prowling nearby - much to near for comfort. So I thought, well, I can live without that wheelchair, and I turned to continue my journey to the lake; a much safer place than this strange valley.
But no sooner did I turn around and I realize that now my scuba-mask and towel were missing too! I was carrying these things on me, and somehow the gremlin took them! These I could NOT live without. So I turned right back around and continued my pursuit of the gremlin in spite of any danger.
The dream continued a bit after that, but the important parts are here. Later today I picked up the book I have been reading about Carl Jung's life (Memories, Dreams, Reflections), and shortly came across this passage:
"These victims of the psychic dichotomy of our times are merely optional neurotics; their apparent morbidity drops away the moment the gulf between the ego and the unconscious is closed."
I realized instantly that the "gulf" Jung spoke of was possible what the chasm in my dream represented. The lake I was trying to get to then would have represented my unconscious mind according to this theory.
I typically read books like this with a pencil (or some other marker) in hand, and I employed my pencil to underline Jung's reference to the "gulf between the ego and the unconscious", and continued reading.
A little later I picked up another book that I'm also reading to help with my meditation (Tulku's, Openness Mind), and shortly ran into this:
"The shadow of fear is always hiding in the gap between our subjective and objective worlds."
Again, I instantly recognized the possible relationship this could have to my dream (assuming that "subjective" refers to the unconscious, and "objective" to the conscious "ego" that Jung spoke of). I thought it was strange that both books I was reading would mention the same concept in the section I read on the same day of this dream. It was a perfect example of what Jung calls "synchronicity" (coincidences that are really coincidences at all).
But Tulku's book went even further. The very next sentence reads:
"We have the fear of losing ourselves, of losing out identity."
Wow" Did I really just read that? I thought about it for a moment and quickly realized that it was explaining the dream yet again, perfectly!
The wheelchair symbolized how I saw myself as a damaged (mentally handicapped), an important part of my self image. In the dream of course I denied any handicap at all, and proved it by getting up and walking. But that fits my "identy" perfectly. I am constantly trying to prove I am not "mentally handicapped", even though I secretly think I am (I rationalize this contradiction by telling myself that my "handicap" is not important as far as others are concerned - in other words, I think I should be the only one who can "see" it).
The scuba mask represents my "adventurer" identity, and the towel stood for my "swimmer" identity (i.e. someone who "swims" in the "unconscious"). I realized after making these connections with my dream that these are three of my most "cherished" identities (or at least, most important to me). And the gremlin stole them! No wonder I wanted them back so bad.
Wow. This has given me much to think about. Is there more to the dream message? Perhaps some indication of the direction I should go? Both books suggest eliminating the gap, but I'm not sure what that means in practical terms. I will certainly be increasing my diligence in meditation and keeping a sharp eye out for any further clues in my dreams or otherwise.
(Note: I've long suspected that dreams hold important clues to lifes mysteries, especially our personal ones. But I'm only just now becoming really convinced!)
I got back in the chair and continued wheeling toward a lake that I intended to go scuba diving in (I was just returning after retrieving a scuba mask and a towel so I could do so). Suddenly there was a drop-off and I jump out of the chair just before the chair itself went over the edge. I could see the chair had fallen about twenty feet into a chasm that was about fifteen feet wide with dirt walls. I knew I had to cross the chasm to get to the lake, so I found a spot that I was somehow familiar with and started to climb down.
But, I lost my footing and started to fall. Instead of panicking though I pushed away from the wall just enough so I could see the vines and grab them to slow my fall. Thus I reached the bottom safely. When I went to retrieve the chair though it was gone! Now I panicked. I thought, how could it be gone? It was only out of my sight for a moment and there was no one else around. Or was there?
I suddenly remembered that a wise friend had told me that Gremlins could steal things and take them back to their lairs without anyone seeing them. He also showed me how to find a gremlins lair, but I had to move fast, as soon as the item went missing.
So I ran off down the bottom of the chasm which soon opened up into a rocky valley. I knew what direction I needed to go in hopes of retrieving the wheelchair, but then I saw a large tyrannosaur-like creature prowling nearby - much to near for comfort. So I thought, well, I can live without that wheelchair, and I turned to continue my journey to the lake; a much safer place than this strange valley.
But no sooner did I turn around and I realize that now my scuba-mask and towel were missing too! I was carrying these things on me, and somehow the gremlin took them! These I could NOT live without. So I turned right back around and continued my pursuit of the gremlin in spite of any danger.
The dream continued a bit after that, but the important parts are here. Later today I picked up the book I have been reading about Carl Jung's life (Memories, Dreams, Reflections), and shortly came across this passage:
"These victims of the psychic dichotomy of our times are merely optional neurotics; their apparent morbidity drops away the moment the gulf between the ego and the unconscious is closed."
I realized instantly that the "gulf" Jung spoke of was possible what the chasm in my dream represented. The lake I was trying to get to then would have represented my unconscious mind according to this theory.
I typically read books like this with a pencil (or some other marker) in hand, and I employed my pencil to underline Jung's reference to the "gulf between the ego and the unconscious", and continued reading.
A little later I picked up another book that I'm also reading to help with my meditation (Tulku's, Openness Mind), and shortly ran into this:
"The shadow of fear is always hiding in the gap between our subjective and objective worlds."
Again, I instantly recognized the possible relationship this could have to my dream (assuming that "subjective" refers to the unconscious, and "objective" to the conscious "ego" that Jung spoke of). I thought it was strange that both books I was reading would mention the same concept in the section I read on the same day of this dream. It was a perfect example of what Jung calls "synchronicity" (coincidences that are really coincidences at all).
But Tulku's book went even further. The very next sentence reads:
"We have the fear of losing ourselves, of losing out identity."
Wow" Did I really just read that? I thought about it for a moment and quickly realized that it was explaining the dream yet again, perfectly!
The wheelchair symbolized how I saw myself as a damaged (mentally handicapped), an important part of my self image. In the dream of course I denied any handicap at all, and proved it by getting up and walking. But that fits my "identy" perfectly. I am constantly trying to prove I am not "mentally handicapped", even though I secretly think I am (I rationalize this contradiction by telling myself that my "handicap" is not important as far as others are concerned - in other words, I think I should be the only one who can "see" it).
The scuba mask represents my "adventurer" identity, and the towel stood for my "swimmer" identity (i.e. someone who "swims" in the "unconscious"). I realized after making these connections with my dream that these are three of my most "cherished" identities (or at least, most important to me). And the gremlin stole them! No wonder I wanted them back so bad.
Wow. This has given me much to think about. Is there more to the dream message? Perhaps some indication of the direction I should go? Both books suggest eliminating the gap, but I'm not sure what that means in practical terms. I will certainly be increasing my diligence in meditation and keeping a sharp eye out for any further clues in my dreams or otherwise.
(Note: I've long suspected that dreams hold important clues to lifes mysteries, especially our personal ones. But I'm only just now becoming really convinced!)
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Lucid With Whoopie
I haven't been having much success with my lucid dreaming attempts, so I decided to start following Dr. LaBerge's suggestions in his latest book, Exploring the World of Lucid Dreaming, more closely. I did an extended version of his „Prospective Memory Training” exercise, with good results, and I have also been keeping a fairly detailed dream log for the last several weeks. The log is meant to help me remember my dreams (which I don't seem to have any problem doing) and also so I can generate a catalog of „dreamsigns”, as LaBerge suggests, to be used later for the „Mnemonic Induction of Lucid Dreams”, or MILD for short. I'm hoping that by following LaBerge's research proven techniques I will eventually be able to have lucid dreams at will, which he says is perfectly possible.
So far I have had only one fully lucid dream since I've renewed my efforts to have them a couple months ago. But, I haven't completed the dream log yet (LaBerge suggests one full month at least), or the consequent catalog of dreamsigns. In other words, I had this lucid dream without really even trying yet, though I'm not sure what caused me to become lucid in the dream either. I just suddenly became aware that I was dreaming for no apparent reason.
I was having an ordinary dream where I was in a hotel, and unable to find my room. I asked the front desk clerk if she could look up my room for me and also give me a new card-key, but she told me she couldn't help me unless I had some identification, which I did not. So I walked away from the desk and entered a nearby stairwell. I climbed the stairs, for some reason struggling on my hands and knees, and at some points having to pull myself up the steps by grabbing ahold of the railings. I managed to climb about two or three flights before I couldn't go any further (though there seemed to be more flights above me). Then I saw a door that appeared to lead out to the roof, and I stood up without any problem and walked out the door. As soon as I stepped through the door I became fully lucid, but I don't know why or how. I just suddenly realized I was in a dream and that everything I was seeing wasn't real.
I was outside on the roof of the hotel and could see other buildings for miles into the distance. Everything was incredibly clear and real seeming (which is a well known characteristics of lucid dreams). I stood just outside the door I had just come through at the top of a kind of handicap ramp that lead down from the door along the wall to my right with a handrail on the outside. The camp extended only eight or ten feet as it dropped about two feet to the roof itself. I looked down at my feet and scuffled them on some loose gravel that was strewn over the tar paper roofing material that covered the ramp. I was totally amazed at how real and detailed everything seemed.
I started to walk down the ramp and noticed a broken window in the door (which was opened against the wall to my right). The window was dark and offered a good reflection, so I stepped close so I could see my face. Yep, it was my face. As far as I could tell it looked just like my face when I look in a real mirror. But before I could get a really good look something behind me caught my attention. I turned around and saw Whoopie Goldberg walking on the roof of the next building over about a hundred feet away from me. It was clear that she saw me and was coming in my direction. So I walked over toward the edge of the roof to greet her.
As she was walking I saw two identical Whoopies split off from each side of her, so now there were three of her walking, each with the same characteristic nonchalance that she does so well. When they were all close enough, the Whoopie in the center spoke to me, clearly and loud enough so I could hear her over the gap between roofs. She said something like, „Joe! Imagine YOU being in here! How did you get in?”
I wanted to ask her, „In where?” but I knew from other lucid dream experiences that I wouldn't get an answer to a question like that, so I just shrugged. But then I remembered that I wanted to recite Edgar Allen Poe's famous poem, „A Dream Within A Dream”, while I was in a lucid dream, and now was my chance to do it. I also vanely thought that I might actually impress Whoopie with my ability to recite Poe. But I had a good reason for reciting the poem too.
LaBerge recommends setting goals to accomplish specific tasks in your lucid dreams, such as flying or meeting some famous or dead person (or both). According to LaBerge, these goals will not only make lucid dreams more likely to occure (by providing motivation for the dream), but tasks will also give the dreams direction and purpose (i. e. make them more interesting and exciting). Flying was too easy for me. I've done that many times in pasz lucid dreams, ans while it's certainly always thrilling to do so, I had other interests in mind. I wanted to do something that would establish the level of my intellectual „presence of mind” during the dream. So I decided to recite a poem as one of my task goals in order to test the extent of my lucidity. I chose Poe's „Dream Within A Dream” for the irony, but also because it takes some effort for me to recall the lines to this poem, which is to say that I can't just spout them out without „intellectual effort” to remember the poem. But I certainly knew the poem well enough that I should be able to recite it in my dream at will, that is, assuming I have my normal waking intellectual facilities; and hence the nexus.
But, in this dream, as soon as I turned my attention to the task of remembering Poe's poem the dream itself began to fade out, and it was obviously a direct consequence of my effort to remember the poem! I realized instantly that I could remember the poem if I really wanted to, but it would cost me the dream in order to do so. In other words, remembering the poem would either cause me to wake up or at least loose lucidity somehow.
Naturally I wanted to stay in the dream so I could explore. So I abandoned my effort to remember the poem and returned my full attention to the dream at hand. But the dream had desolved into a white featureless fog in which I was now adrift. I relaxed and began to concentrate without effort on the dream (a technique that I practice during meditation just for this reason) and soon the dream returned with the same clarity and detail as before, except now I was in an alley behind the hotel instead of on the roof, and Whoopie was nowhere in sight.
But there were plenty of other people walking around, even other famous actors who I recognized but could not name. There were props and stagehands moving busily about, and I could even see scenes from movies I didn't recognize being acted out around me (and presumably being filmed, though I never saw any cameras or film crews).
I started walking to explore my dream (I was still very much lucid), and entered a busy breezeway that boarded what seemed to be a staged city park. There I saw a group of adults and two young girls, all dressed in old-fashioned costumes, the little girls in frilly victorian pink and yellow dresses. It seemed to me that the adults were buying a balloon from a vendor to give to the girls. But when I stepped closer I saw that the „balloon” was really a small parasol that lifted both girls into the air together as they clung to it desperately.
The girls were clearly distressed, and I considered dashing to their aid, but distinctly thought, „No, this is only a dream, so they wont get hurt.” I didn't think they were in any real danger even though they were both screaming for their lives. (I also remember not wanting to ruin the dream by stiring up my perversion, sexual contact with children, which might happen if I came into physical contact with the girls, which of course I would have to in order to rescue them.) The other adults around did not seem concerned either. So I turned my attention back to the breezeway and suddenly woke up. Or so I thought.
Actually, I „woke up” into another dream, just as clear and real seeming as reality itself, or perhaps a lucid dream, though I was obviously no longer lucid, but I thought I was wide awake.
I „woke up” in an institutional dayroom, and thought nothing strange about it. I was sitting at a table that was empty, and a female psychologist had just sat down adjacent to me. She asked me to explain my thoughts and feelings regarding a piece of art that I had posted on the Internet. I didn't know what art she was referring to, so she told her (male) assistant, who was sitting on my other side, to pull it up on his laptop, which he had just placed and opened on the table so I could see the screen.
I didn't like the feeling of being interrogated, and I had to urinate. So I told her I needed to use the bathroom before we could continue. She and her assistant exchanged some kind of knowing look that I noticed, but ignored. I really didn't care what they thought.
I got up and walked over to a public mens room that was actually just fifteen or twenty feet away (the whole set up was similar to a prison visiting room, though I didn't think of it as such in the dream). I entered the bathroom and walked over to a small green facility on the wall that I thought must be the urinal, though it did not look right at all. As I stood there trying to figure out what was wrong with this bathroom I heard a couple of people talking to each other as they exited the bathroom behind me. One of them was clearly a woman.
I thought for a moment that maybe I had entered the women's bathroom by mistake. But then to my relief I saw the full size mens white urinals over a little ways on the wall. So I walked over to one of them and began fumbling with my pants.
Just as I extracted my penis to urinate a hand suddenly reached over and grabbed it. I now saw that the psychologist's male assistant had followed me into the bathroom and it was he who was molesting me. I pulled away from him by way of rebuffing his lewed advance, at which point he said something like, „Don't pretend you don't like it.”
At this point I woke up for really real, in my cell here in Federal prison, and, of course, I had to pee.
I don't know what this dream means, if it means anything at all. But it has raised some questions in my mind about the nature of dreams in general. Why, for example, did Whoopie call me „Joe”? I always think of myself as „Jet” or sometimes „Duncan”. But I consider „Joe” to be my father's name, not mine at all. (Though it was also the name of a very close friend I had in Fargo, and also the name of one of the attorneys working on my Federal appeal whom I talk to often and consider also to be a good friend.) I never think of myself as „Joe”, and so when someone calls me by that name it lets me know that they don't know me at all, personally. So, if Whoopie was a construct of my personal unconscious mind (as many suppose), then why wouldn't she use my personal name?
Also, what did she mean by, „in here?” This is one of those questions that I have often and futilely tried to solicit an answer for in past lucid dreams, by asking everyone I could in the dream itself. Questions like, „Where is this place?” or „Are you real?” or „Where do you come from?” But the answers I got were almost always either vague or meaningless. I've since come to a kind of impasse, and suspect that maybe the questions themselves are meaningless in the dream context. But still, why would she make such an allusion?
Perhaps I will have a chance to find all these things out. But for now, the mysteries remain, and the dreams go on.
Note: (September 25, 2012) Since having the above dream (several weeks ago) I have realized a couple of things.
First, I had forgotten all about my "alterego" Joe that used to help protect me when I was a kid in prison all those years ago. It could well have been this alterego that Whoopie was addressing in this dream when she called me "Joe". That would imply a lot.
Second, I previously had assumed that when I tried to remember the "Dream Within A Dream" poem in order to recite it, that the reason the dream faded was because I was overtaxing my brain by expecting it to remember something little difficult to remember and maintain the dream at the same time. But that doesn't really make any sense. If my brain can't sustain a perception of the world while I'm taxing it, then it wouldn't be able to sustain its perception of reality either when I did so.
So, another more interesting and much better explanation has come to me. What if it wasn't my brain that couldn't keep up with the demands, but the connection to my brain that couldn't keep up? In other words, suppose that the dream was actually a kind of "out of body" experience in which I was only "tethered" to my physical body (and brain) through a restricted communication channel? Of course I'm thinking of the "silver cord" that mystics commonly refer to when speaking of their own out of body experiences. Though I have never seen such a cord, in my dreams or otherwise, it could explain why my dream faded when I tried to remember Poe's poem. I figure that maybe by trying to access my physical brain so heavily I was in effect "pulling" on that cord and hense causing my "mind" to "return to my body" and hense "wake up".
It's just a thought for now, but one I will certainly be exploring in future dreams.
P.S. I think it is best to think of the "silver cord" as a symbolic metaphor rather than a form of reality the way some mystics pretend. The important aspect of this metaphor is the connection that is sustained between mind and body in a dream. So the fact that I have personally never "seen" this connection is not significant to its possible presence.
So far I have had only one fully lucid dream since I've renewed my efforts to have them a couple months ago. But, I haven't completed the dream log yet (LaBerge suggests one full month at least), or the consequent catalog of dreamsigns. In other words, I had this lucid dream without really even trying yet, though I'm not sure what caused me to become lucid in the dream either. I just suddenly became aware that I was dreaming for no apparent reason.
I was having an ordinary dream where I was in a hotel, and unable to find my room. I asked the front desk clerk if she could look up my room for me and also give me a new card-key, but she told me she couldn't help me unless I had some identification, which I did not. So I walked away from the desk and entered a nearby stairwell. I climbed the stairs, for some reason struggling on my hands and knees, and at some points having to pull myself up the steps by grabbing ahold of the railings. I managed to climb about two or three flights before I couldn't go any further (though there seemed to be more flights above me). Then I saw a door that appeared to lead out to the roof, and I stood up without any problem and walked out the door. As soon as I stepped through the door I became fully lucid, but I don't know why or how. I just suddenly realized I was in a dream and that everything I was seeing wasn't real.
I was outside on the roof of the hotel and could see other buildings for miles into the distance. Everything was incredibly clear and real seeming (which is a well known characteristics of lucid dreams). I stood just outside the door I had just come through at the top of a kind of handicap ramp that lead down from the door along the wall to my right with a handrail on the outside. The camp extended only eight or ten feet as it dropped about two feet to the roof itself. I looked down at my feet and scuffled them on some loose gravel that was strewn over the tar paper roofing material that covered the ramp. I was totally amazed at how real and detailed everything seemed.
I started to walk down the ramp and noticed a broken window in the door (which was opened against the wall to my right). The window was dark and offered a good reflection, so I stepped close so I could see my face. Yep, it was my face. As far as I could tell it looked just like my face when I look in a real mirror. But before I could get a really good look something behind me caught my attention. I turned around and saw Whoopie Goldberg walking on the roof of the next building over about a hundred feet away from me. It was clear that she saw me and was coming in my direction. So I walked over toward the edge of the roof to greet her.
As she was walking I saw two identical Whoopies split off from each side of her, so now there were three of her walking, each with the same characteristic nonchalance that she does so well. When they were all close enough, the Whoopie in the center spoke to me, clearly and loud enough so I could hear her over the gap between roofs. She said something like, „Joe! Imagine YOU being in here! How did you get in?”
I wanted to ask her, „In where?” but I knew from other lucid dream experiences that I wouldn't get an answer to a question like that, so I just shrugged. But then I remembered that I wanted to recite Edgar Allen Poe's famous poem, „A Dream Within A Dream”, while I was in a lucid dream, and now was my chance to do it. I also vanely thought that I might actually impress Whoopie with my ability to recite Poe. But I had a good reason for reciting the poem too.
LaBerge recommends setting goals to accomplish specific tasks in your lucid dreams, such as flying or meeting some famous or dead person (or both). According to LaBerge, these goals will not only make lucid dreams more likely to occure (by providing motivation for the dream), but tasks will also give the dreams direction and purpose (i. e. make them more interesting and exciting). Flying was too easy for me. I've done that many times in pasz lucid dreams, ans while it's certainly always thrilling to do so, I had other interests in mind. I wanted to do something that would establish the level of my intellectual „presence of mind” during the dream. So I decided to recite a poem as one of my task goals in order to test the extent of my lucidity. I chose Poe's „Dream Within A Dream” for the irony, but also because it takes some effort for me to recall the lines to this poem, which is to say that I can't just spout them out without „intellectual effort” to remember the poem. But I certainly knew the poem well enough that I should be able to recite it in my dream at will, that is, assuming I have my normal waking intellectual facilities; and hence the nexus.
But, in this dream, as soon as I turned my attention to the task of remembering Poe's poem the dream itself began to fade out, and it was obviously a direct consequence of my effort to remember the poem! I realized instantly that I could remember the poem if I really wanted to, but it would cost me the dream in order to do so. In other words, remembering the poem would either cause me to wake up or at least loose lucidity somehow.
Naturally I wanted to stay in the dream so I could explore. So I abandoned my effort to remember the poem and returned my full attention to the dream at hand. But the dream had desolved into a white featureless fog in which I was now adrift. I relaxed and began to concentrate without effort on the dream (a technique that I practice during meditation just for this reason) and soon the dream returned with the same clarity and detail as before, except now I was in an alley behind the hotel instead of on the roof, and Whoopie was nowhere in sight.
But there were plenty of other people walking around, even other famous actors who I recognized but could not name. There were props and stagehands moving busily about, and I could even see scenes from movies I didn't recognize being acted out around me (and presumably being filmed, though I never saw any cameras or film crews).
I started walking to explore my dream (I was still very much lucid), and entered a busy breezeway that boarded what seemed to be a staged city park. There I saw a group of adults and two young girls, all dressed in old-fashioned costumes, the little girls in frilly victorian pink and yellow dresses. It seemed to me that the adults were buying a balloon from a vendor to give to the girls. But when I stepped closer I saw that the „balloon” was really a small parasol that lifted both girls into the air together as they clung to it desperately.
The girls were clearly distressed, and I considered dashing to their aid, but distinctly thought, „No, this is only a dream, so they wont get hurt.” I didn't think they were in any real danger even though they were both screaming for their lives. (I also remember not wanting to ruin the dream by stiring up my perversion, sexual contact with children, which might happen if I came into physical contact with the girls, which of course I would have to in order to rescue them.) The other adults around did not seem concerned either. So I turned my attention back to the breezeway and suddenly woke up. Or so I thought.
Actually, I „woke up” into another dream, just as clear and real seeming as reality itself, or perhaps a lucid dream, though I was obviously no longer lucid, but I thought I was wide awake.
I „woke up” in an institutional dayroom, and thought nothing strange about it. I was sitting at a table that was empty, and a female psychologist had just sat down adjacent to me. She asked me to explain my thoughts and feelings regarding a piece of art that I had posted on the Internet. I didn't know what art she was referring to, so she told her (male) assistant, who was sitting on my other side, to pull it up on his laptop, which he had just placed and opened on the table so I could see the screen.
I didn't like the feeling of being interrogated, and I had to urinate. So I told her I needed to use the bathroom before we could continue. She and her assistant exchanged some kind of knowing look that I noticed, but ignored. I really didn't care what they thought.
I got up and walked over to a public mens room that was actually just fifteen or twenty feet away (the whole set up was similar to a prison visiting room, though I didn't think of it as such in the dream). I entered the bathroom and walked over to a small green facility on the wall that I thought must be the urinal, though it did not look right at all. As I stood there trying to figure out what was wrong with this bathroom I heard a couple of people talking to each other as they exited the bathroom behind me. One of them was clearly a woman.
I thought for a moment that maybe I had entered the women's bathroom by mistake. But then to my relief I saw the full size mens white urinals over a little ways on the wall. So I walked over to one of them and began fumbling with my pants.
Just as I extracted my penis to urinate a hand suddenly reached over and grabbed it. I now saw that the psychologist's male assistant had followed me into the bathroom and it was he who was molesting me. I pulled away from him by way of rebuffing his lewed advance, at which point he said something like, „Don't pretend you don't like it.”
At this point I woke up for really real, in my cell here in Federal prison, and, of course, I had to pee.
I don't know what this dream means, if it means anything at all. But it has raised some questions in my mind about the nature of dreams in general. Why, for example, did Whoopie call me „Joe”? I always think of myself as „Jet” or sometimes „Duncan”. But I consider „Joe” to be my father's name, not mine at all. (Though it was also the name of a very close friend I had in Fargo, and also the name of one of the attorneys working on my Federal appeal whom I talk to often and consider also to be a good friend.) I never think of myself as „Joe”, and so when someone calls me by that name it lets me know that they don't know me at all, personally. So, if Whoopie was a construct of my personal unconscious mind (as many suppose), then why wouldn't she use my personal name?
Also, what did she mean by, „in here?” This is one of those questions that I have often and futilely tried to solicit an answer for in past lucid dreams, by asking everyone I could in the dream itself. Questions like, „Where is this place?” or „Are you real?” or „Where do you come from?” But the answers I got were almost always either vague or meaningless. I've since come to a kind of impasse, and suspect that maybe the questions themselves are meaningless in the dream context. But still, why would she make such an allusion?
Perhaps I will have a chance to find all these things out. But for now, the mysteries remain, and the dreams go on.
Note: (September 25, 2012) Since having the above dream (several weeks ago) I have realized a couple of things.
First, I had forgotten all about my "alterego" Joe that used to help protect me when I was a kid in prison all those years ago. It could well have been this alterego that Whoopie was addressing in this dream when she called me "Joe". That would imply a lot.
Second, I previously had assumed that when I tried to remember the "Dream Within A Dream" poem in order to recite it, that the reason the dream faded was because I was overtaxing my brain by expecting it to remember something little difficult to remember and maintain the dream at the same time. But that doesn't really make any sense. If my brain can't sustain a perception of the world while I'm taxing it, then it wouldn't be able to sustain its perception of reality either when I did so.
So, another more interesting and much better explanation has come to me. What if it wasn't my brain that couldn't keep up with the demands, but the connection to my brain that couldn't keep up? In other words, suppose that the dream was actually a kind of "out of body" experience in which I was only "tethered" to my physical body (and brain) through a restricted communication channel? Of course I'm thinking of the "silver cord" that mystics commonly refer to when speaking of their own out of body experiences. Though I have never seen such a cord, in my dreams or otherwise, it could explain why my dream faded when I tried to remember Poe's poem. I figure that maybe by trying to access my physical brain so heavily I was in effect "pulling" on that cord and hense causing my "mind" to "return to my body" and hense "wake up".
It's just a thought for now, but one I will certainly be exploring in future dreams.
P.S. I think it is best to think of the "silver cord" as a symbolic metaphor rather than a form of reality the way some mystics pretend. The important aspect of this metaphor is the connection that is sustained between mind and body in a dream. So the fact that I have personally never "seen" this connection is not significant to its possible presence.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
The Incredible Hulk I Am
I have been having no luck with lucid dreams as of yet, but I did have a really "incredible" dream just this morning.
I dreamed I was watching the Incredible Hulk fighting a team of supervillains who had stolen a powerful top secret weapon and was about to use it to destroy an entire mountain. The weapon was mounted on the top of a large truck trailer and the mastermind villain (a woman) was at the controls taking aim and preparing to fire the weapon.
The Hulk came on the scene and began smashing through the villainous defenders, first a fifty-caliber machine gun that sent bullets pinging off the Hulks green skin before he smashed it. Then there was a large mass weapon that seemed especially designed to kill the Hulk. It fired a large wrecking ball sized projectile with spiked protrusions at a high velocity at the green meany. But, with a single punch of his giant fist the Hulk sent the projectile directly back where it came from completely obliterating the weapon that fired it and its wielder.
Now nothing stood between the Hulk and the woman preparing to fire the weapon except time, of course. She was mere seconds away from setting off the secret weapon and destroying the mountain. But the Hulk stopped her just in the nick of time and saved the day.
Now here is where the dream starts to get a bit incredible. The weapon turns out to be a smaller truck packed on top of the larger trailer, and all the Hulk had to do in order to claim his victory was get in the truck and drive it away. But, as soon as he touched the handle to the door of the cab a huge jolt of electricity (or some other super villain energy force) blasted the Hulk and knocked him out.
Then the scene changed instantly to the inside of a pre-school classroom. The Hulk was now a small child with green skin, but otherwise no different than any other five year old. A man and woman couple were in the classroom with the child-Hulk asking him questions, but the Hulk could not remember who he was or where he came from. No one seemed to notice his green skin even though there were many other children in the classroom with normal skin.
The couple seemed to be interested in adopting this mysterious but gentle and lovable boy. They held him and doted over him like any loving parents would. The pre-school teacher came over and motioned for the couple to join her at one of those child-sized tables with child-sized chairs in the back of the classroom while the child-Hulk joined the rest of the children engaged in other pre-school activities in the open carpeted area in the front of the classroom.
At this point I became a participant in the dream and joined the teacher and couple at the little table. The teacher addressed me directly and said, "It's amazing what a sweet and gentle child you were". I knew she was alluding to the contrasting reality of my violent adult behavior (crimes) in real life. (I was the child-Hulk in the dream)
I responded by telling her that yes, as a child I was in fact so adorable and sweet that I instantly became my kindergarten teacher's pet (favorite), which naturally caused the other children to resent me, which confused me greatly as a child because I did not understand why adults seemed to like me but other children did not. (I could not see my own "green skin")
The teacher in my dream agreed that favoritism in the classroom causes problems and confusion for the child. Then she pondered, "At what point does the child WANT to behave (negatively?)?"
At this point the dream was interrupted as I was woke up by the guards bring lunch to my cell, but the teacher's words were left echoing in my head the way dreams do when they are ended suddenly. I quickly ate my lunch then sat down to write this.
There are two "incredible" things I'd like to point out about this dream. First, my statement to the pre-school teacher about being the teacher's pet when I was in kindergarten was completely true in real life. However, I had never in real life considered the negative impact being the teacher's pet had on my ability to get along with (and make friends with) the other children. In the dream I seemed to take these consequences for granted, as if they were obvious. But until now, in real life I'd never realized such things, even though now, because of this dream, the impact of being the teacher's pet on me as a child seems obvious and fits perfectly with my memories (and confusion) as a child.
Secondly, the teacher's observation and question in the dream, "At what point does the child WANT to behave (negatively?)?" is a twist to the philosophical question of free will that I have never in real life encountered before.
She was asking at what point does a child become responsible for their behavior, which I see now is an important question to most people and one that the System struggles with constantly. But, the question itself implies (assumes) that such a point exists, whereas I have long contended that it does not; i.e. free will and predestiny are both contradicting illusions caused by limited perspectives of reality. They are encompassed by the reality of infinite cause and consequence that I have attempted to expound upon elsewhere in the Fifth Nail blog.
So, this dream has brought two "incredible" concepts to my attention that I may not have otherwise ever considered.
Monday, June 25, 2012
No Way Out
I have been reading a book on lucid dreaming and hoping to improve my abilities as an oneironaut (pronounced oh-NIGH-ro-knot, and meaning „explorer of dreams”). But I haven't had much luck lately. All hopes of lucidity aside, I did have an interesting dream last night, or rather this morning, after breakfast when I wenr back to sleep (which the book says is the best time for lucid dreams). In fact, I think maybe this could be one of the most intriguing dreams that I've ever had. I'm going to need some time to think about it, that's for sure. It could end up being a real game changer for me.
The dream I'm talking about was actually kind of sandwiched between two other seemingly unrelated dreams that I don't remember for some reason. But, the significant part all seemed to happen in this sequence:
I was in a plain rectangular room with just one door. The room seemed to be a private waiting room of some sort. There was a young boy in the room with me, but I don't remember why he was there or what he was doing. I was waiting for my attorneys to finish confering with each other about my case in another room just down the hall from this one.
There were two young women standing in the doorway who I knew to be investigators working for the attorneys in the other room (though in real life I have many investigators and attorneys who have worked on my cases all of whom I call my friends, these dream counterparts did not correlate with any of them specifically). The women were obviously keeping an eye on me while acting all friendly and pretending to just be keeping me company. I easily saw through their facade and was irritated by it. When I tried to leave the room they made excuses for why I should stay. I started to feel like a prisoner.
Finally I became overly impatient and pushed my way past the two women into the hallway outside the door, ignoring their pretentiously concerned protests. I walked down the hall to the left and passed another room where I saw the five or six attorneys sitting of a conference table. They didn't seem to notice as I walked by with the two investigators on me heels.
The hall opened onto the promenade of a large indoor shopping mall (indoor malls have been a recurring theme in my dreams for the past several years now). I walked quickly into a mall restaurant, past the dinning customers, and directly to the kitchen. I was hoping that the women following me wouldn't come into the kitchen out of propriety. But, they stayed right behind me the whole time.
I wanted to loose my tail without making a scene (by trying to run away from them for example). So, true to my real-life character, I stopped to think about the problem and find a solution. I laid down on a metal kitchen table with my face toward the women so I could see them. They were once again posting sentry, this time at the entrance to the kitchen. I watched them for several minutes and noticed a three or four second gap in their vigil when they traded places at the door. The next time they turned their backs while trading positions.
I was ready. I got up quickly and dashed for the rear door of the kitchen. It lead to a hall in the restaurant that gave access to the customer restrooms. I was out of the women's sight, but not for long. I needed to hide fast before they found me again.
I darted into the men's restroom, then quickly climbed over the rear stall wall. Rather than climbing all the way down on the other side I hung upside down against the stall. It turned out to be a janitor's space behind the stall (judging by the mop-bucket and cleaning supplies I saw there). From my position hanging upsidedown I could see under the stall, but anyone looking under the stalls wouldn't be able to see me.
As expected, the bathroom door soon flew open, and I could see the high-heeled shoes and stockings of what was without doubt one of the investigators. She bent down to look under the stalls, then hurriedly left. But, before I could climb down a man came in. He entered the toilet stall just inches away from me and sat down to ude it. I couldn't hold my position and the man heard me as I tried to adjust my grip to keep from falling on my head. The man made some comment under his breath that could have been, „Freakin' Fags”, or something similar, then quickly pulled up his pants and left. Good riddens, I thought.
So, I climbed out from behind the stall and crept out of the bathroom. I knew there was still a chance that I would be spotted by the women who were earnestly looking for me nearby, but I had to get out of the mall before they got help (from mall security for example). So, walking as quickly as I could without drawing attention I exited the restaurant through the front then headed down the promenade looking for a mall exit.
Now, here's where things start to get interesting. I mentioned a moment ago that malls are a recurring theme in my dreams of late. But, I didn't realize until this dream (after I woke up and thought about it later) that the malls never have any exits! In the other mall dreams i never really realized the exits were missing because never before had I been so earnest to find one. But, this time I needed an exit, and fast.
After finding no exits from the promenade I began frantically entering the stores and looking for exits in the backs of them, with no luck of course. I just kept ending up back in the mall's promenade. Then suddenly I found myself at the end of a side corridor facing the entrances for three peculiar sideshows. Somehow I remembered from another dream (though because I was not lucid in this dream it just seemed like an ordinary remembrance to me, not from another dream at all) that in order to leave the mall I needed to watch all of the sideshows without getting drawn in and becoming a part of the entertainment, which it seemed, was a perilous task.
In the previous dreams I had already seen the first two shows, so I had only to sit through the third show and I would be free. But, I knew this third show presented the greatest challenge, and that there was a real danger that I would be trapped by it forever!
As I stood contemplating this obstacle I realized I wasn't alone. A small attractive and young woman stood next to me. With dreamlike understanding I knew that she was me too. We were to face the third sideshow together. But somehow I also knew that the real danger was for her. I was concerned, but we knew we had to take the chance so we could get out of the mall before being found again.
We both passed through the heavy dark curtains to enter the show. We found ourselves in a theater with enough seats for about 200 people. There were a couple dozen or so men scattered about in the seats making up the audience. After I woke up I realized this must have been a porno theater where men, and sometimes women, go to have sex. But, I didn't make that association at all the time in the dream.
Toward the front of the theater, in the first or second row of seats, a man stood facing toward me and she-me in the back where we had just come in. With a big jovial smile on his face he waved at us and hollered, „There you are! We've bee waiting for you!”
The dream abruptly shifted and I found myself standing alone in the parking lot outside of the mall. But, just before this transition I saw an image of she-me laying sideways in one of the theater seats wearing only a sheer and sexy nylon body-stocking. She seemed to be exposing herself to the men in the theater and was obviously in the throes of sexual passion, apparently in anticipation of her wildest sexual fantasies coming true.
The parking lot was empty, though the mall I knew was full of people. I stood for a moment and wondered what had just happened. How did I get out? What happened to she-me?
I'm not sure if the dream continued from there or not. But, when I finally woke up I didn't think much about the dream at first. It seemed fairly run-of-the-mill. But, a little while later its significance started to sink in.
After thinking about it some more, I remembered that in previous dreams I had already visited the other two side shows without getting trapped. The first was a party with lots of food, drugs and alcohol, and people. The second was a stage show of a battle with soldiers, guns and cannons, and such. I don't remember the party (first sideshow) too clearly. But, I remember that the staged battle ended up involving the audience (which was in a small theater with only 20 or 30 seats), and I was in a struggle for my life to keep from being shot by (or maybe from) a cannon. I managed to get control of the cannon, but when I fired it at the „enemy” only confetti came out. That made me realize that it was all just a play, that my life was never in danger at all. So, I left, with the „battle” raging on behind me.
Maybe these „sideshows” represented chemical/food addiction, power and control delusion, and sexual obsession. It seems likely. But, then what happened to she-me. Was some part of me still trapped in that mall? What did the mall represent anyway? Life? (Was it same kind of Hotel California?) What did it all mean, if anything?
According to the book on lucid dreaming, it was all just a product of a combination of my past experiences (memory), expectations and desires (motivation). The book says there is no „message” in dreams, though they can give us clues about ourselves, but that's all, like a Rorschach inkblot test, nothing more.
I like to think there's a lot more. I'm pretty sure that „higher consciousness” is involved. I think it's just plain silly to think that our consciousness is isolated. Frost said, „No man is an island.” I don't think he meant socially (as most people assume). Perhaps he meant consciously, like I think.
It makes more sense for consciousness to exist on a spectrum, like all other forms of energy. In fact, I believe that someday, maybe soon, scientists will discover that all other forms of energy arise from pure consciousness itself (there are a lot of experiments already in Quantum Physics that strongly support this belief). So what I'm saying is, by my way of thinking, I'd be a fool to not consider the meaning of this dream, or any dream for that matter.
I think someday we will teach our children to dream lucidly, instead of to consume recklessly. And through dreams we will make a „real” world that is more conscious, and a world without limits of and kind (no social or physical „laws”). And, I believe that this new world will be in perfect harmony with the Universe. All because of dreams, like the one I just described.
P.S.: Here are some additional observations relating to the various aspects of this dream that have occured to me since writing the above (one week ago).
The mall(s) in this dream and others seem to represent a „limited existence”. This roughly corresponds to physical life itself. So, leaving the mall is synonymous to leaving this life. My attorneys, in the dream and in real life as well, are very concerned that I don't „leave the mall” because they think of that as death. I do not. I see death as a continuation of life, which I think this dream depicts well.
„She-me” is most likely my „Jazzi-Jet” alter ego (my transexual identity that was prominent for many years, especially while I was a „queen” in prison). The „sideshows” seem to have been some sort of „trap” designed specifically to seperate me from my alter egos. I feel that the dream may have been a signal that it was time to let Jazzi-Jet go and leave her behind.
I actually felt bad when I realized that. Jazzi-Jet was like my own child. I brought her into this world, nurished her, and loved her. And she loved me. She looked up to me for guidance and protection, and she protected me too. And now I am to abandon her? But, I realized that she is probably better off left in that porno theater, which is essentially her element. She will be happy there, I think, where I could never be happy for very long. She is a much simpler creature than I am, with simpler wants and needs. So, maybe she is where she belongs (wherever that is) so I can move on to other realities without her.
The parking lot at the end of this dream then would represent the beginning of a whole new world, without limits. I have not been tempted to masturbate or otherwise engage in any sexual thoughts at all since this dream. Perhaps without the temptress there are no temptations. I am curious to see if I have become egoistically asexual at last. But, that will take time to tell.
The dream I'm talking about was actually kind of sandwiched between two other seemingly unrelated dreams that I don't remember for some reason. But, the significant part all seemed to happen in this sequence:
I was in a plain rectangular room with just one door. The room seemed to be a private waiting room of some sort. There was a young boy in the room with me, but I don't remember why he was there or what he was doing. I was waiting for my attorneys to finish confering with each other about my case in another room just down the hall from this one.
There were two young women standing in the doorway who I knew to be investigators working for the attorneys in the other room (though in real life I have many investigators and attorneys who have worked on my cases all of whom I call my friends, these dream counterparts did not correlate with any of them specifically). The women were obviously keeping an eye on me while acting all friendly and pretending to just be keeping me company. I easily saw through their facade and was irritated by it. When I tried to leave the room they made excuses for why I should stay. I started to feel like a prisoner.
Finally I became overly impatient and pushed my way past the two women into the hallway outside the door, ignoring their pretentiously concerned protests. I walked down the hall to the left and passed another room where I saw the five or six attorneys sitting of a conference table. They didn't seem to notice as I walked by with the two investigators on me heels.
The hall opened onto the promenade of a large indoor shopping mall (indoor malls have been a recurring theme in my dreams for the past several years now). I walked quickly into a mall restaurant, past the dinning customers, and directly to the kitchen. I was hoping that the women following me wouldn't come into the kitchen out of propriety. But, they stayed right behind me the whole time.
I wanted to loose my tail without making a scene (by trying to run away from them for example). So, true to my real-life character, I stopped to think about the problem and find a solution. I laid down on a metal kitchen table with my face toward the women so I could see them. They were once again posting sentry, this time at the entrance to the kitchen. I watched them for several minutes and noticed a three or four second gap in their vigil when they traded places at the door. The next time they turned their backs while trading positions.
I was ready. I got up quickly and dashed for the rear door of the kitchen. It lead to a hall in the restaurant that gave access to the customer restrooms. I was out of the women's sight, but not for long. I needed to hide fast before they found me again.
I darted into the men's restroom, then quickly climbed over the rear stall wall. Rather than climbing all the way down on the other side I hung upside down against the stall. It turned out to be a janitor's space behind the stall (judging by the mop-bucket and cleaning supplies I saw there). From my position hanging upsidedown I could see under the stall, but anyone looking under the stalls wouldn't be able to see me.
As expected, the bathroom door soon flew open, and I could see the high-heeled shoes and stockings of what was without doubt one of the investigators. She bent down to look under the stalls, then hurriedly left. But, before I could climb down a man came in. He entered the toilet stall just inches away from me and sat down to ude it. I couldn't hold my position and the man heard me as I tried to adjust my grip to keep from falling on my head. The man made some comment under his breath that could have been, „Freakin' Fags”, or something similar, then quickly pulled up his pants and left. Good riddens, I thought.
So, I climbed out from behind the stall and crept out of the bathroom. I knew there was still a chance that I would be spotted by the women who were earnestly looking for me nearby, but I had to get out of the mall before they got help (from mall security for example). So, walking as quickly as I could without drawing attention I exited the restaurant through the front then headed down the promenade looking for a mall exit.
Now, here's where things start to get interesting. I mentioned a moment ago that malls are a recurring theme in my dreams of late. But, I didn't realize until this dream (after I woke up and thought about it later) that the malls never have any exits! In the other mall dreams i never really realized the exits were missing because never before had I been so earnest to find one. But, this time I needed an exit, and fast.
After finding no exits from the promenade I began frantically entering the stores and looking for exits in the backs of them, with no luck of course. I just kept ending up back in the mall's promenade. Then suddenly I found myself at the end of a side corridor facing the entrances for three peculiar sideshows. Somehow I remembered from another dream (though because I was not lucid in this dream it just seemed like an ordinary remembrance to me, not from another dream at all) that in order to leave the mall I needed to watch all of the sideshows without getting drawn in and becoming a part of the entertainment, which it seemed, was a perilous task.
In the previous dreams I had already seen the first two shows, so I had only to sit through the third show and I would be free. But, I knew this third show presented the greatest challenge, and that there was a real danger that I would be trapped by it forever!
As I stood contemplating this obstacle I realized I wasn't alone. A small attractive and young woman stood next to me. With dreamlike understanding I knew that she was me too. We were to face the third sideshow together. But somehow I also knew that the real danger was for her. I was concerned, but we knew we had to take the chance so we could get out of the mall before being found again.
We both passed through the heavy dark curtains to enter the show. We found ourselves in a theater with enough seats for about 200 people. There were a couple dozen or so men scattered about in the seats making up the audience. After I woke up I realized this must have been a porno theater where men, and sometimes women, go to have sex. But, I didn't make that association at all the time in the dream.
Toward the front of the theater, in the first or second row of seats, a man stood facing toward me and she-me in the back where we had just come in. With a big jovial smile on his face he waved at us and hollered, „There you are! We've bee waiting for you!”
The dream abruptly shifted and I found myself standing alone in the parking lot outside of the mall. But, just before this transition I saw an image of she-me laying sideways in one of the theater seats wearing only a sheer and sexy nylon body-stocking. She seemed to be exposing herself to the men in the theater and was obviously in the throes of sexual passion, apparently in anticipation of her wildest sexual fantasies coming true.
The parking lot was empty, though the mall I knew was full of people. I stood for a moment and wondered what had just happened. How did I get out? What happened to she-me?
I'm not sure if the dream continued from there or not. But, when I finally woke up I didn't think much about the dream at first. It seemed fairly run-of-the-mill. But, a little while later its significance started to sink in.
After thinking about it some more, I remembered that in previous dreams I had already visited the other two side shows without getting trapped. The first was a party with lots of food, drugs and alcohol, and people. The second was a stage show of a battle with soldiers, guns and cannons, and such. I don't remember the party (first sideshow) too clearly. But, I remember that the staged battle ended up involving the audience (which was in a small theater with only 20 or 30 seats), and I was in a struggle for my life to keep from being shot by (or maybe from) a cannon. I managed to get control of the cannon, but when I fired it at the „enemy” only confetti came out. That made me realize that it was all just a play, that my life was never in danger at all. So, I left, with the „battle” raging on behind me.
Maybe these „sideshows” represented chemical/food addiction, power and control delusion, and sexual obsession. It seems likely. But, then what happened to she-me. Was some part of me still trapped in that mall? What did the mall represent anyway? Life? (Was it same kind of Hotel California?) What did it all mean, if anything?
According to the book on lucid dreaming, it was all just a product of a combination of my past experiences (memory), expectations and desires (motivation). The book says there is no „message” in dreams, though they can give us clues about ourselves, but that's all, like a Rorschach inkblot test, nothing more.
I like to think there's a lot more. I'm pretty sure that „higher consciousness” is involved. I think it's just plain silly to think that our consciousness is isolated. Frost said, „No man is an island.” I don't think he meant socially (as most people assume). Perhaps he meant consciously, like I think.
It makes more sense for consciousness to exist on a spectrum, like all other forms of energy. In fact, I believe that someday, maybe soon, scientists will discover that all other forms of energy arise from pure consciousness itself (there are a lot of experiments already in Quantum Physics that strongly support this belief). So what I'm saying is, by my way of thinking, I'd be a fool to not consider the meaning of this dream, or any dream for that matter.
I think someday we will teach our children to dream lucidly, instead of to consume recklessly. And through dreams we will make a „real” world that is more conscious, and a world without limits of and kind (no social or physical „laws”). And, I believe that this new world will be in perfect harmony with the Universe. All because of dreams, like the one I just described.
P.S.: Here are some additional observations relating to the various aspects of this dream that have occured to me since writing the above (one week ago).
The mall(s) in this dream and others seem to represent a „limited existence”. This roughly corresponds to physical life itself. So, leaving the mall is synonymous to leaving this life. My attorneys, in the dream and in real life as well, are very concerned that I don't „leave the mall” because they think of that as death. I do not. I see death as a continuation of life, which I think this dream depicts well.
„She-me” is most likely my „Jazzi-Jet” alter ego (my transexual identity that was prominent for many years, especially while I was a „queen” in prison). The „sideshows” seem to have been some sort of „trap” designed specifically to seperate me from my alter egos. I feel that the dream may have been a signal that it was time to let Jazzi-Jet go and leave her behind.
I actually felt bad when I realized that. Jazzi-Jet was like my own child. I brought her into this world, nurished her, and loved her. And she loved me. She looked up to me for guidance and protection, and she protected me too. And now I am to abandon her? But, I realized that she is probably better off left in that porno theater, which is essentially her element. She will be happy there, I think, where I could never be happy for very long. She is a much simpler creature than I am, with simpler wants and needs. So, maybe she is where she belongs (wherever that is) so I can move on to other realities without her.
The parking lot at the end of this dream then would represent the beginning of a whole new world, without limits. I have not been tempted to masturbate or otherwise engage in any sexual thoughts at all since this dream. Perhaps without the temptress there are no temptations. I am curious to see if I have become egoistically asexual at last. But, that will take time to tell.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Curiouser and Curiouser Dream
I dreamed last night that I was a modern American soldier stationed in a foreign country. We were there to provide social support serviced (food, shelter, and some semblance of order) to the people who were in a "region of unrest". Our squad received orders to prepare for an attack from gerilla forces near-by, but we were only armed with mock weapons. The military apparently did not expect that we would need to actually fight.
Our job was to protect the locals. So, we gathered them together in a community hall where we could defend them easier. At the gathering there were benches arranged like pews in a church for people to sit on. I took a seat in the front pew.
While I was seated a young boy motioned for me to hold him the way children do. So, without thinking anything about it I picked him up and set him on one leg and held him with one arm in an assuring manner.
After holding the boy innocently for a few minutes I remembered that the other people around me knew I was a child sex "offender", and I became slightly self conscious about it. But I also realized that the boy needed the reassurance of being held by an adult. And since I had no sexual interest in the boy at the time I decided his need was more important than my discomfort.
A few minutes later everyone in the room stood up to begin a procession line to receive a portion of food (one bite of scrambled eggs). When I stood up I set the boy on his own feet and he wondered away, apparently satiated for now.
The woman next to me was tending to a three-year-old little girl. The woman asked me to watch the girl while she excused herself to the bathroom. I said I would, and let the child hold onto my pant leg while I continued to monitor the progress of the food line. The little girl did not seem frightened or uncomfortable, so I did not pay her much attention since she did not seem to need it.
A moment later the little girl apparently became curious about the difference between a man and a woman, as she began touching my privates on the outside of my pants. At first I did not pay her any attention because I did not realize her attention and touches were deliberate. But then she grabbed me out right and began trying to determine what I had between my legs.
At that point I gently removed her hands and calmly told her that it was not appropriate behavior, which seemed to satisfy her.
What I found most interesting about this dream is that I did not feel "judged" for being a "sex offender" even though everyone in the dream knew about my past. It was this lack of feeling judged that allowed me to respond appropriately to the child, instead of trying to take advantage of her natural curiosity.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Tent City Paradise Dream
I just awoke from another one of my future-paradise-world dreams. The last words I remember from the dream, just before the guards here woke me up for breakfast, were, „We are here to learn about each other and to understand each other so we can live together”.
It was one of those lengthy and complex dreams that seemed to traverse several different dream worlds in one incongruous but cuntinuous sequence. It seemed to begin with me living in a friend's house with his family. But, they sent me on an errand and when I went to get the family car it was gone. Even the bicycle that I used was missing. I realized that the family wanted me to leave and not come back, it seems I had over stayed my welcome.
So, I left on foot and walked away through a suburban neighbourhood, not sure of where I was going to. I decided to head in the general direction of where I thought downtown would be. But, that required me to head into some woods. I followed a foot path for awhile that went along the top of a steep hill covered with trees. Then I came to a large old tree that leaned out over the hill. I leaned on the tree to keep from falling down the hill, but my weight was enough to cause it to come crashing down. It almost landed on a man who appeared to be working in the woods (a ranger?), but just missed him.
It then became apparent that the man was there for me. He had come from the future (or perhaps just some other world) to get me and one other person to come back to his world with him, where we were needed for some important reason. The other person was a good looking young man, but he seemed confused and not sure what was happening (as though, perhaps, he himself were having a dream in which he was only half conscious).
The man from the future embraced both of us with something on his arms that caused our connection to the world we were in to weaken, so that we could then walk away from it. It was as though we could walk fast forward in time, and even though we passed by other people, they were all motionless, frozen in time if you will.
We left the woods, to a paved plaza, then a large hall. I asked the traveller if I could stop to see my mother. He said it was normally against the rules, but since she was nearby I could go see her (to say good-bye?).
My mother (apparently) lived in a hospital (retirement home?) but after climbing a broad and long stair-case to get to her room, she wasn't there. Some other old people told me she had moved. So I went back down the stairs to meet back up with the traveller, only now it was just him and me. The other young man was gone (perhaps already in the „future”).
The next thing I remember is being inside a large steel (or perhaps iron?) ball with the traveller. The ball clanked loudly as it rolled with us inside of it, but we remained stationary. Then it stopped, unexpectedly according to the traveller. We had not yet arrived at our destination. So we both got out to see what the problem was.
We were stopped in a large wheat field, and there were several intelligent harvesting machine/robots blocking our path. The traveller spoke to the machines and told them that we had priority and that they had to let us pass. But, the machines disagreed claiming that the harvest had priority (was it possible that we were the „crop” being harvested? Maybe). We had to make a run for it, though I'm not sure if we were escaping from the harvesters or just trying to get past them a to a wall at the edge of the field. As we ran, the harvesters started throwing parts of their machines at us.
We made it to the wall, which had an opening that opened into a courtyard. But now there was a female with us who I knew, somehow, to be my girlfriend. I did not question her presence, as though she had been with us all along (was she the handsome young man from earlier?).
The traveller had a (magic?) liquid that he used to help us escape the harvesters. But, the liquid turned him into an egotistical demi-god and he stopped trying to help me and my girlfriend and started trying to use the power the liquid gave him to impose his will upon the harvesters, perhaps unsuccessfully because I did not see him anymore after that.
But, my girlfriend had some of the liquid too, and now she wanted to use it to scale a wall that kept us in the courtyard. Our only way out seemed to be up. But, I warned her it was dangerous to use the liquid if you were not ready for its power. She used it anyway.
For a moment I became her. I felt the liquid taking effect inside of her/me. It arose like a blissful emotion, the errupted as a song that seemed to come down from the sky so that the entire world could hear it. It was a song of pure emotional energy taking on the form of music; a love song, devine, pure, innocent, love. It was a song that had power and those who could hear it were summoned to yet another world. I felt her/me rise up into the air, carried by the music, to that new world.
Then I was just me again. My girlfriend's presence was no more, as if she had never been there. I found myself in a chamber filled with ten foot high tents, shaped like those domed changing tents you see on beaches sometimes, only bigger.
There were others, all of whom I knew had been summoned here like me. We were all walking past the the tents, and into a large auditorium. There were people everywhere, a crowd, all talking, asking each other questions, like, „Who are you?” „Where did you come from?” „Why are we here?”
Then there were some announcements over some unseen PA system. We were told that we had each been chosen for a specific reason that made each of us unique in our ability to contribute to a new society that we would build together. The announcement mentioned gays, people with different religious backgrounds, different technical experts and even a „multiple murderer”, which it seemed everyone knew meant me. But, no one reacted negatively to the fact that I had killed people. They seemed to understand that I was not a danger here in this world, and somehow my past gave me some trait or traits that made me important to this new community.
When the announcements finished, I went back to the area where the tents were. This is where we would sleep, and engage in „intimate forms of communication” with each other (sex, for just one example). I found a tent that had one lavender and two yellow five inch dots over the entrance. I knew this was to be my tent and that I would be sharing it with a couple of gay men, who were already inside when I entered myself.
After I entered, the tent spoke to us. It said, „We are here to learn about each other and to understand each other so we can live together”. This same message was repeated in all the other tents as well, as soon as all its respective occupants were present.
That's as far as this dream went before I was awakened by the prison guards for breakfast. But, somehow I don't think it really ended, but somehow just continued without me (this me).
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