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I've decided to start keeping a journal of selected dreams and other experiences. I've not done so until now because a lot of these events are personal or merely trivial but I see the value in sharing dreams and whatnot from reading other's journals, so I'll give it a go. I'll select what I share based on what I judge appropriate. Your insights are welcome, of course.
2011.07.08
Friday
“The Living Statues”
I had trouble recalling this and had to lie in bed for a while before I could pull it back. It was very vivid.
The first thing I recall about this dream is carrying statues into a display room. I know there was more before this but it’s lost. I’m very enthusiastic about the process.
I’m able to bring these statues to life by staring at them; however, I think they can choose not to animate. I am totally enamoured of them, each one of them.
Other people enter and move about the room examining the statues. I’m biding my time while they are there. While no body’s watching, a female statue comes alive, thrusting her smiling face towards me. She’s very beautiful, reminding me of the actress Barbara Eden. There’s a little more waiting to be alone with the statues and, when the others are gone, I bring another to life. It’s a reclining man statue. He’s only about a metre long with a stout, dwarfish body and a button nose. I love him in any case; I love all of them. As soon as he animates he begins to cry childlike because he doesn’t want to be alive. He soon transforms back into stone. I walk to the end of the room and two or three small statues animate and begin to dance. It’s as if they couldn’t wait for me to approach them, they are so excited to come alive. I dance with them and feel joyful.
Wednesday, 13th July, 2011.
“In the Garden of the Wolf and Fox”
I’m in a large, verdant backyard that is enclosed by a wooden fence. A cacophony of animal sound surrounds me, making me feel joyful. I’m seated on a wooden bench with its back to the fence. Before me is a large tree with roots that arch out of the ground like a Moreton Bay Fig. There is a fox there and it’s likely I’m not recalling the whole dream because I know in the dream that this is the second fox I’ve seen.
Suddenly a huge wolf appears and sniffs it. I’m simultaneously mildly alarmed for the fox (though the wolf is only a few metres from me, I don’t feel endangered) and delighted by this appearance. There’s seems to be an artistry in the scene, like a drawing from a children’s fairy tale. The wolf’s furry body curves beautifully as the fox lifts its nose towards the wolf’s. In fact, the overriding feeling is one of whimsy. Suddenly, Harry, my 14-year-old son, is in the wolf’s place, then an old man. Both are subsequently either side of me on the bench.
Harry and the old man have apparently been in conversation. I catch it now. It appears that the old man is religious and I cringe a little as Harry tells him we don’t go to church.
I hear a strange howling and ask the old man what it is. He says it’s the foxes.
Now the scene changes to a place like a casino. I’m a few metres from Harry, watching him across gaming tables. He is gambling on some type of game, gathering a whole lot of cards into his hands.
14th July, 2011
Thursday
“Driving to the Movies”
I’m driving to a movie with Wendy M and Catherine G in the back seat of the car. I glance back at them, their generously proportioned bodies comfortably rubbing shoulders. It doesn’t occur to me that neither has met IRL.
Now we’re returning from a movie for which I have no recall. I drive all the way back to my suburb, where the ladies will pick up their cars. Afterwards, I realise Catherine must drive all the way back to Wollongong.
I ask Wendy if she still has a pool (she doesn’t have one IRL but does have unobscured ocean views) and she tells me they’ve gotten rid of it. I drive down a little lane to have a look at the excavated site.
“The Sanitorium”
Now I’m in a room, on a lounge that appears much like the lounge in my living room. (Interesting, I was imagining myself lying on this before I fell asleep last night). I’m watching a girl singing and then become vaguely aware of others around me. Her voice is tuneful enough but it lacks volume and richness. I initially think she's Claire S, a girl I went school with, but she's too young.
Now I notice a boy to my left who is talking to me. Someone has given me a platter with appetisers on it; I don’t know what they are. It’s been there a while and, though I know I should eat, I have no real interest in the food. I experience an extreme languidness and at some point I realise that I am convalescing in a sanatorium. The boy appears normal, even though I perceive him as an inmate as well.
I’m just outside the back door. There are bins there and some cardboard boxes have been left lying around. I proceed to disassemble them so that they lie flat and I can put them in the recycling bin. A couple of boys - maybe Joe and Bryce, a couple of my eldest son’s friends who are sleeping over - approach and chat with me while I do this. I cannot recall what they say to me.
I can hear a device beeping and it wakes me. I listen for it again but there’s no sound, it was still part of the dream.
Listened to the Robert Moss interview at this site: http://annehill.org/dream-talk-radio/podcasts/ today. Had released after the fox dream that the old man looked like Robert Moss and was, therefore, a return DC. I thought it was interesting, then, that during the interview the topic of dream foxes arose. I'll have to return to my journal and re-read the other "Robert Moss" dream now.
Found it:
2011.07.03
Sunday
There’s a bit that seems to belong here but I’m not sure. I seem to be talking to a professor, who looks very like Robert Moss and we’re in a bed. I become aware of my nakedness, which I don’t like, but there’s nothing sexual and blankets cover me so I’m not exposed.
15th July, 2011.
Friday
“Device in the water”
I’m teaching a Science class in a section of the hall, using a projector. A colleague has placed some device in the ocean not far away. As I begin my lesson, I become afraid that the device cannot be left in the water this long, so I leave my class unattended. Then, I realise I can’t do this but when I return, they’ve all disappeared.
Note: This was my dream trying to get me up to make sure everything was all right regarding my period.
“Supporting Mum”
I’m upstairs outside unfamiliar rooms in a grey hallway. I know Mum is within and there are many people with her. My sister is with me but not as a vivid physical presence. Mum is dealing with ghosts and J is worried about her. I am confident I have the solution. I’m not sure upon waking what that is but in the dream I have the resources to enrich her life.
“Inviting the UFO back”
I’m walking in a wooded area that I interpret as being streets near where I grew up but there are actually no streets such as this. I feel that I’m coming home from school but these streets are north of my childhood home and my primary school was south. I’m not quite a child either. There both is and isn’t an impression of a school uniform and a straw hat (like we wore in primary school) and there’s a sense that I’m a girl and a woman simultaneously.
Above me but not far away a flying disc appears. I’m thrilled to see it and watch intently as it disappears into treetops. I call out that that wasn’t enough and that I must see it/them again. It reappears from among the trees and again I’m delighted. I mentally communicate, asking them to talk to me psychically.
“Festival with the Vet and Companionable Dogs”
I’m in an outdoor venue at some kind of festival (this is a recurring dream setting for me). This time G, I and others are seated at a food testing table. The local vet is the chief judge and I’m watching him dish out various foods that contestants of a cooking competition have made. As he dishes out fruit preserves he explains that he allows for extra water because they had to be made so quickly. I know nothing about preserving fruits, so I take his word for it. I like the little touches he makes in preparing his food for consumption. He garnishes the food as an experienced chief would do and displays it with artistry expect for when he tries to stand up something like toast, only darker and stiffer, in a bowl and breaks it.
His dog and mine have gone for a walk down a grassy easement that cuts into the land as one would expect a creek to do. His dog, a sleek black creature* and mine , walk companionably, shoulder-to-shoulder and I am much relieved and surprised that my dog is so calm and behaving herself with another dog. After some time, however, I feel I should go check on them and, when I do, they’re on their return journey, as peaceful as ever. An elderly lady with a dog of her own has stopped to admire them.
Now G is with me and I’m recalling the UFO I spotted earlier. I’m telling him how wonderful the experience was and he’s enthusiastic as well. Then I say, “It was too good to be true. It was probably a dream, huh?!” and he agrees with me that this was probably so.
Notes:
I wake up before I can do anything lucidly but, at least, there’s no chance of having forgotten the UFO part of the dream.
With the exception of the first, I’m not at all sure of the order of the dreams and even suspect them of occurring simultaneously but I do know what the final thought was.
* The sleek black dog is the one that in a dream a few years ago latched on to my belly, right of my navel, announcing the onset of a health problem that I still haven’t dealt with due to issues regarding health insurance that prevented a bit of exploratory surgery. Those issues are resolved now so I can book the procedure when it suits me. I suspect the dream resulted from listening to an interview with Amy Brucker, a dream researcher who has explored dreams that give health advice. This dream seems to be quite a positive one and I’m pretty sure there’s some food advice in there too: lots of fruit and water will preserve me.
Nothing much for Saturday in terms of dream recall. H had an away game, which meant an early start, a team mate pickup and an hours drive. I could only recall a dream about dogs and didn't record it until now. There were a lot of them playing when a brutish-looking charcoal-silver male appeared over a hill and the dogs of various breeds scattered, some picking their puppies up in their mouths, which I thought curious. It unfolded that he wasn't vicious, just excited to join the others and they settled again.
When we took the boys plus one to lunch after the game, I noticed a very similar dog coming the other way, pulling on its leash. It was marginally smaller than the dream dog but, otherwise, the same with its very distinctive colour.
While away after the game, we also went to see friends' holiday house (their son is also in the team) and I experienced deja vu.
During the trip, I mentioned someone who'd moved away a month ago, wondering how their family was getting on and we received a call from them that evening to give us an update. They're not that close and the call was unexpected. G felt it was surprising that I'd mentioned them.
17th July, 2011.
“Fellowship”
I’m at the dining table of the house where I was raised. To my left sits Michael Timpano, a colleague from my old workplace who teaches Italian. To his left and my right are other Italians. We’re huddled and the man on my right, who looks suspiciously like Robert di Niro, has an arm thrown over my shoulder. The feeling is of fellowship and happiness.
I’m trying to talk about work but every time I do Michael jokingly censors me. He says I must talk about anything but work. I find it challenging, apparently.
For some reason I feel I must type that at some point I swoon to the floor as if deflated. I think I resist it because it makes no narrative sense, as if dreams are logical!
Now a bus arrives out on the street and I am drawn to it, Pied Piper style. I look down and notice I am bare-footed but it doesn’t really worry me, somehow I know others are bare-footed and also in their pyjamas on this bus. I board it and sit to the front. It’s almost full and, again, there’s a feeling of fellowship and also of having done this previously.
That’s all. My husband stirred and it woke me and that’s the only dream I could recall from the night.
Well, the Italian language evolved some terms for enjoying life - "dolce vita" (the sweet life) and "dolce far niente" (sweet doing nothing) that are noticably absent from other languages. I guess there's a reason. :)
Well, you know Oliver, following the dream I attended a Spritualist Christian service for the first time. The people (mostly women) were quite welcoming and I found myself speaking up when the minister said anyone could add their opinion to what she'd just said about abstaining from judging others. Another woman spoke, pretty much repeating what the minister had said and I couldn't help myself. I said I believed that it's fine not to be judgemental but we can still exercise discernment, privately recognising ego defences in others as we recognise them in ourselves. The minister was surprised I'd used the word "discernment" saying she'd heard it clairaudiently while driving to the service.
Then there was a brilliant speaker who talked about healing her cancer with diet and meditation and an amazing OBE.
Towards the end of the service the woman beside me told me she thought I had a great singing voice, which was really sweet, and asked me what my experience was regarding this kind of service. I said none and she was surprised. So, that was kind of cool but a bit embarrassing too.
Then there was a lucky door prize (I kid you not) and, well, you know I'm lucky so I came home with a cutesy angel figurine. I knew I was winning it before I'd won, even tried to undo it because I didn't want to be that conspicuous.
The minister did pyschometry readings for about 30 people. So, the service was a lot longer than I thought it would be and I had to get home and do some stuff before work the next day but I said hello and complimented her choice of speaker. She told me about a centre they run and asked if I'd be back next month. I said I would. Overall, a pretty positive experience of fellowship.
19th July, Tuesday
“Triple Wedding”
This dream begins as a TV show but then I become a participant. I’m watching a small, plump, balding man as he prepares himself to be the best man at a wedding. He’s struggling to hold his shape, however, and keeps shape shifting back into his true form as a woman.
Now I’m at the wedding. It’s a triple wedding, the three brides all ready but the grooms not having arrived. I’m in the wedding party, aware of myself as an observer rather than a player. Thus, I’m not concerned about appearance or role. I look at the faces of the brides. My vision has a zooming function that lets me look closely without being close. One of them is Helen D, a girl I went to school with. Another looks like Nick H, a boy that attends school with my son. This boy was born with encephalitis and his brain was affected, making him overly large and mentally slow. The bride in the dream, however, is of normal intelligence and quite short, despite a largish head. I don’t really look at the third bride, instead noticing an array of little flower girls to my right. All of them wear exotic silk costumes and I think them very sweet. A tall, attractive bridesmaid begins to speak to me. She explains things about the wedding and the people that I don’t know and that I don’t recall upon waking.
I’m becoming impatient for proceedings to begin, wondering why the grooms haven’t arrived. The bridesmaid wheels in an IV drip and attaches a catheter to her belly. She explains her condition needing this kind of treatment at intervals.
Ran an extra class for my seniors this morning during which I had a deja vu.
That experience with the service sounds quite enviable. :)
Three brides? You know what I think when threes are involved. Nuff said. :mrgreen:
I think I do, not certain though.Quote:
Three brides? You know what I think when threes are involved. Nuff said. :mrgreen:
20th July, 2011.
“Artists”
I’m looking at a huge painting that Catherine D has created. At the top right is a creature, something cute and unusual that represents the crab without its shell and in the bottom left is a caterpillar. There is a lot of space between the two figures and this creates a really pleasing composition. It’s not a realistic image but there’s a high degree of artistry and I really enjoy it.
I realise I’m in a large unfamiliar house now. It’s the house of wealthy people but I find the lighting a little dark. I walk from this large room to another at the other side of the house. I hear an old man and an old woman conversing about a book. I feel both are novelists and very intellectual people.
At the centre of the house a large dog bounds towards me and jumps all over me. I don’t mind because it’s a friendly dog. I even look after it, tending its needs.
Notes:
Woke through the night. Energy sensations. I’ve lost the exact memory but feel it was a bi-location effect. Much too tired at the moment; much forgotten.
I moved from the right to the left side of the house in this dream. I suspect the sleeping body was working with tired right and left brain hemispheres, respectively.
Artists and art are recurring dream themes for me. IRL, Catherine D is a former student and an artist. I thoroughly enjoy the works she puts on her FB wall.
A crab withouts its shell - lessening in separation, feeling exposed
Caterpillar - changing, becoming. Remember the puppa in one dream (a human face on top)?
Yep, Oliver. Thought of both and remembered that dream too. I figure it's a good thing because it was a great picture and I really felt wonderful looking at it.
The crab was an entirely different shape to its shell, interestingly.
Released from form, then. ;)
These constant references to art and artists are making me a bit desperate to do some painting.
21st July, 2011.
Thursday
“Reading the Indian’s cards”
I spend a lot of time in the first dream session of the night with an Indian man of about 30 years of age who seems to be a shopkeeper. (This is not surprising given I’ve been reviewing the novel The Namesake with my senior class and the main characters are Bengali). He’s communicating by showing me large cards with words written on them. I have no trouble reading the words but a number of the sentences make sense except for a single word and I wonder what the point of the exercise is.
“G Drives”
I’m riding a motorcycle but then it switches and I’m a passenger with G driving. The area seems to be near where I attended high school. He stops in at the home of people I don’t know. The kids and I groan and we resent the lack of consultation.
“The A kids”
I’m in an unfamiliar house now. A man sits opposite me at a table, holding his plump infant sons. They look like child versions of Daniel A. I lean across the table and the younger of the infants leans into me with a smile on his face. I put my head affectionately against his. I have my eyes closed as I do this and his father asks me why. I don’t know why I’m doing it, only that it’s comfortable.
Note: Daniel is a former student and works in theatre as a designer/special effects person. He recently posted a photo of himself as a little kid on FB.
“Cath B”
I see Cath Bl. IRL, I haven’t seen her for a while. I take her hand as we begin walking across a grassy field. After awhile we release hands because our hands have become uncomfortable, I think, in the dream, because she is taller than me. She is worried that her house is untidy with unironed washing.
Note: IRL, I remember Cath’s house as only being “untidy” with her children’s arts and crafts because her focus is always firmly on family and friends and she’s a primary school teacher.
Now we’ve gone to somebody else’s house or maybe it’s still Cath’s. I peer into a room that is under construction. A moment later I look back into it and the construction is essentially complete.
“Dog Poo”
I’m back with the man and his children, in somebody else’s kitchen/dining area. I’m cleaning something in the sink, something that has been brought in from outside. The last bit that I wash away looks like a dog turd. When I’m done, I see that Bella pooing under the dining table. I’m annoyed by this and begin to search for bags to clean it up. I find plenty of old bread bags and sense someone beside me helping me.
Dunno if this is helpful, but there's also the Hermit crab to consider. It has no shell, and will wander til it finds an object - an old shell, a discarded tin can, whatever fits - to make a makeshift shell/home out of, until it outgrows it, and has to find something else...
It's a nice idea, Neil, and probably a good symbol for human beings in general.
Probably to clearly feel when something is in harmony, and when not, while learning nonphysical communication.Quote:
Originally Posted by Beekeeper
I also got the impression that in the past few posts there was something about seeing the reality (or nonreality) of the situation.
quite the impressive pace B :D i'm absolutely taken by the celerity of your working (given the fact these are selectively shared experiences).
Well don't be because with only a few exceptions, this has been it lately. I figure, though, that since this is my pattern and a pattern that is very much linked to lifestyle, I shouldn't worry too much when the dream recall is blah. Dreaming is just one aspect of the whole person and what happens during my days is often very instructive and never boring.:lol:Quote:
Originally Posted by Psionkx
22nd July, 2011.
Friday
Another morning struggling with recall because I’m sleeping so deeply at the moment. Had time for a decent length meditation (in silence) yesterday. There was much immediate hypnogogic imagery, which isn’t usual for me in meditations, but also a surprisingly easy time remaining conscious and present. Thought this augured well for the night’s dream recall but it didn’t really.
“H is afraid”
This is a strange dream that may have been a RTZ experience. G and I are in bed cuddling when our youngest comes into the room, having been frightened by something (he hasn’t done that for years). I feel the very real sensation of him getting in the bed. Even though he’s only 14, he’s already 6 ft and a substantial lad, so there’s a real feeling of crowding in the bed. All of this occurs in darkness.
"T ate Octopus"
This is just the last part of a dream that was actually quite long. I know I’ve been riding my bicycle around the second floors of a school building. I’ve been very sociable too.
I ride along the veranda and towards a classroom. I see a boy whom I used to teach, Todd H. I really liked him at school, he was always very affable and one of those people who really achieved his potential. His peers liked him too and, IIRC, he went on to become school captain. When I see him, I get off my bike and take his two hands in mine like you might do to support a small child who’s having trouble explaining something to you. Todd explains that he had a horrible experience while eating octopus. He says that inside the octopus he ate were many baby octopi. I ask him how it tasted and he says horrible. We both have a laugh over this.
I’m back on my bike and riding into the classroom. I’m feeling pretty subversive in a fun kind of way. Identity-wise, I’m both teacher and student. There are other students in the room and I socialise with them briefly. Then I see G at the teacher’s desk. There’s something like a wall map rolled up loosely on the desk. The backing is black and I write on it absent-mindedly. My writing is really messy and, even though the backing is black and I write in pencil, I see the writing clearly against white. What I’ve written doesn’t mean anything except I feel I’ve put my name there somehow, even though none of the lettering corresponds with my name. I regret that and cease my grafitto.
The radio wakes us.
Meditation: Hypnogogic: A triangular bit of plane shrapnel. Red and white with snow on it.
23rd July, 2011-07-23
Saturday
Just caught the end of this one:
“Intruder”
I see my former neighbour, Dave, peering over the fence and I push my face aggressively towards the window or the fence (am I inside or outside the house?) in order to be rude or defiant. IRL, I wouldn’t do such a thing, Dave was a decent neighbour and we all got along well in the twelve years we lived next door. There’s something else here – Dave has left something in our letterbox, which G subsequently reports.
Now there’s some kind of outside threat and our family is protecting something of value. It’s hidden away in the house. There’s something with the dog, perhaps we’ve walked her and left the house locked up or we’ve locked her in a room for the time being.
Now I walk through the house into “our bedroom,” which appears to be a variation on my parents’ room from the house where I was raised. The windows are open (there was only one in my parents’ room) and the substantial wind billows through the lace curtains. On a hunch, I begin to search the wardrobes for a hidden person. H and G enter the room and H begins to help. In front of the wardrobe, on the floor, is a totally unrecognisable object about 30cm tall, white and sitting on a circular base like a bottle, but I don’t look at it well enough to really be able to describe it beyond that. Logic tells me that a person couldn’t be inside the robe and this object in front of the door but I go ahead and open the door anyway. Inside there’s a young Spanish man whom I pull out quite roughly by the arm. G and H and I interrogate him but I’m the only one who treats him with contempt. We demand his name and he tells us it’s Riccardo.
Ho Hum.:|
24th July, 2011
Sunday
“Harry Potter”
Went and saw “The Deathy Hallows Pt2” with the family last night so virtually my entire dream recall was of a battle against evil with the good folk of Hogwarts. There wasn’t a great deal of plot. It was pretty much like the movie and we were winning. Pity I’m finding conscious dreaming so elusive, interacting lucidly with the character would have been cool.
On a related note, Amy Brucker offers an interesting perspective on dream battles that states fighting invaders in dreams may be an indication of the physical body fighting illness or even eliminating cancer cells. I don’t think that’s the case in this instance but I do think it’s worth remembering.
Here is the other dream I recall. Again, it seemed to happen simultaneously with the Harry P dream. In fact, it’s becoming difficult to know how to label my dreams since when I recall them they often feel interspersed and sometimes simultaneous.
"Best and Less"
I’m driving and there’s a male American passenger in the car. I drive the car up an impossibly steep and excessively green embankment. When I reach its peak, I realise this isn’t the direction I wish to go. I hear my family say as much from the back seat. I change direction, enjoying some exhilaration with the acceleration – I really do like motion in dreams. We pass through a very narrow alley and end up looking inside a department store from within our car. I explain to the passenger that this is a store called “Best and Less.”
Notes: Upon reflection, this dream actually references a choice I made a long time ago.
I haven't bothered recording over the last two days because life has been unreasonably busy but I'll quickly type something here and some of it may be triggered.
I just read a post by Eris, which is what triggered a memory from last night. While I've seen the name Eris before, I was unfamiliar with the mythology (consciously at least). The Eris in my dream was a woman who asked me if she could draw some of my power. I told her she could not and then, before I could prevent her, she said she would deposit something instead. I perceived it as a large white tear-shaped drop left inside my torso. I have only just looked up the meaning of Eris and I see that she is a goddess of strife. Hmmm. I also see she's associated with Greek myths that I have actually read, so I suspect she's tucked away somewhere inside my subconscious. I won't say more on this topic but I suspect this might be about my fleeting thoughts about some unwanted attention in the workplace.
I also dreamt about one of my students. This type of dream is always a bit easier in that I look for the qualities I identify with that person and find them within myself. I also consider the setting in order to comprehend the message.
I also had a false awakening that was somewhat chaotic and that's all I recall of that. (I feel like I should be saying that like Forrest Gump).
There was other stuff I remembered this morning but it's gone now. Tomorrow will be better (if I get to bed early ;))
27th July, 201.
Wednesday
“Handbrake won’t hold”
I’m driving around in a multi-storey car park. When I decide to park my car but the handbrake won’t hold. I keep looking for a spot without an incline but it’s difficult. I think I’ve found a spot where my car will remain stationary (and it’s on an incline:whatthe:) but it unfolds that it’s an access ramp and I have to move my vehicle to allow others to move.
I’ve succeeded in parking and I’ve entered the shopping complex at the basement level. A friend accompanies me now. There is a children’s performance on down here but I’m not interested in that. This is supposedly unfamiliar territory and I want to see what is on the next level. I spot some stairs and head towards them.
“Lesson about Portal”
The other day during meditation I was immediately presented with the hypnogogics of a tube that I perceived as organic and very like the inside of a throat might appear during exploratory surgery. It even had an inner lining membrane that moved. During this dream I was watching a documentary video explaining that the tube was a portal. I remember thinking that the tube shown in the video wasn’t identical to the one I’d seen and far less organic.
“The Body’s Endurance”
Something I vaguely recall about tests on the body’s endurance. I’m exposed to heat and cold and wet but I’m unperturbed.
“H and the Hospital Kids”
H is outside a hospital, speaking to an authority figure. I accompany him. The man explains that H may play football with the hospital kids as some kind of reward or privilege. H is eager to start and wants details but the man is encouraging patience as there are no children yet.
Note: H is off to a skills camp with school for the rest of the week.
“Hotelier and the Astral Projection Magazine”
I’m a man but not disturbed by it as I usually am when I discover this in dreams. Essentially, I feel I’m the same person. I’m operating a hotel and I’ve just finished cleaning out in the foyer. I ask a female assistant to find me three motherly women to complete a job for me. They arrive and I instruct them that it’s their task to greet the visitors warmly. They are happy to do it and set off determinedly. I’m pleased with their response.
I pick up a thick, glossy magazine. I have no trouble at all reading it and the writing is normal and stable. There are only two articles promoted on the front cover and I think it would be odd if such a thick magazine only had two articles. The first is about the “Bishop of ----” and the second is to do with astral projection. I know the bishop article is also about projection. I become interested and start flicking through. I’m a little puzzled by photos of the bishop that seem to show him dead or departed when he seems to have existed before the advent of the camera but I let that pass. I continue flicking through, seeing the range of articles before committing to reading one.
“One night Stand”
G gets out of bed but I’m too exhausted still so I stay a bit longer and fall right back to dreaming. I’m in a cabin at some kind of resort. I’m young and I’ve split up with my boyfriend. Initially I’m very pleased to be free but I’ve become fearful that I’ll be alone for the rest of my life so I’ve engaged in a one night stand with a boy that now lies in my bed. I want him to go away because I think it was meaningless but he doesn’t feel the same. He wants to begin a relationship.
The rest of this dream is a bit vague. I think I wander outside the cabin and seek the wisdom of an elderly bearded man.
“Writing on Arms” (Lucid)
I’m in the kitchen at Seven Hills (where I was raised). I’m at the old stove, heating up left over pie and making scrambled eggs. This disturbs me because it’s too much food and I feel I should finish the leftovers and shouldn’t have made the eggs. I know I’ve been dreaming a lot and I’m anxious to remember them all, so I’m mentally reviewing them. While I cook, I notice my arms are covered in writing in black ink. This disturbs me because I cannot remember having done it myself and I wonder who could have done this to me. I think such things happen in dreams and that I’m probably dreaming right now but I’m happy to go along with the dream because I feel too tired to do anything else. Something causes the door into the laundry to open and I walk out there to see the back door nudged open by Bella. I welcome her and realise that this dream is very similar to the one I read in Newfreedom’s journal.
I walk into the living room. My laptop is sitting open on the lounge. Something odd glitches across it and fascinates me momentarily. Something else plays briefly, some kind of cartoon with a singing superhero in blue. I know it’s time to get up and record my dreams.
I got exhausted just reading this. Your mind is very busy!
I was thinking that too as I typed it.:wacky1:
Hello, Beek.
This seems like you're trying to access a subplane but can't stabilise your consciousness there. The keywords are "multi-storey" (subplane levels), "incline" (raising and lowering vibration), "access ramp" (gaining access to) and "vehicle" (of consciousness).Quote:
Originally Posted by Beekeeper
There's a possibility to enter the astral plane (shopping complex = plane of desire), but you're not interested in that sufficiently enough (it's child play). You might be more interested in getting to the mental plane (next level) instead. There's the possibility that you had some remaining astral experience to finish up but weren't in the mood for it.Quote:
I’ve succeeded in parking and I’ve entered the shopping complex at the basement level. A friend accompanies me now. There is a children’s performance on down here but I’m not interested in that. This is supposedly unfamiliar territory and I want to see what is on the next level. I spot some stairs and head towards them.
Maybe an insight in that anything in nonphysical reality is consciousness, and hence "alive." (Flesh is a bit of a over-the-top symbol for "alive"). The video shows more the conventional viewpoint when we ignore the consciousness aspect of that reality and see it more utilitarian in terms of its function. It's like a comparison between what reality looks like if the consciousness sense is on and off, maybe, for contrast.Quote:
“Lesson about Portal”
The other day during meditation I was immediately presented with the hypnogogics of a tube that I perceived as organic and very like the inside of a throat might appear during exploratory surgery. It even had an inner lining membrane that moved. During this dream I was watching a documentary video explaining that the tube was a portal. I remember thinking that the tube shown in the video wasn’t identical to the one I’d seen and far less organic.
It seems like you feel that you have too much dream material to record. Though you find it nourishing in general (the food analogy), you think there's too much of it as you haven't processed the old stuff (the leftovers) fully and still new stuff is coming in. You feel like you have an "armful" of writing up to do. The door to the laundry room might act as a reminder that this could be an opportunity (door) to cleanse (laundry, connotation of seeing it as a chore) your astral elemental (loyal, friendly dog primarily driven by sensation and instinct).Quote:
“Writing on Arms” (Lucid)
I’m in the kitchen at Seven Hills (where I was raised). I’m at the old stove, heating up left over pie and making scrambled eggs. This disturbs me because it’s too much food and I feel I should finish the leftovers and shouldn’t have made the eggs. I know I’ve been dreaming a lot and I’m anxious to remember them all, so I’m mentally reviewing them. While I cook, I notice my arms are covered in writing in black ink. This disturbs me because I cannot remember having done it myself and I wonder who could have done this to me. I think such things happen in dreams and that I’m probably dreaming right now but I’m happy to go along with the dream because I feel too tired to do anything else. Something causes the door into the laundry to open and I walk out there to see the back door nudged open by Bella. I welcome her and realise that this dream is very similar to the one I read in Newfreedom’s journal.
I walk into the living room. My laptop is sitting open on the lounge. Something odd glitches across it and fascinates me momentarily. Something else plays briefly, some kind of cartoon with a singing superhero in blue. I know it’s time to get up and record my dreams.
Cheers,
Oliver
Quote:
Originally Posted by Korpo
I hadn't considered these, Oliver. Yeah, I like that!:thumbsup:Quote:
Originally Posted by Korpo
Male&female appearences in dreams for me often have to do with the balance of our inner yin+yang energies. (the more when we look at a dream from the thesis/view that all dream-actors are an inner self-part) To me it seems a strong contrast you`ve choosed here. Here you are 1 male who calls 3 female (on top motherly females, which means a lot of yin) to complete a job for you. Yin-qualities are expressed in absorptive and receptive,- rather than in active or mental, qualities. Is it possible that you are currently looking for or trying to generate more yin-energy+qualities to be in balance?Quote:
“Hotelier...”
I’m a man but not disturbed by it as I usually am when I discover this in dreams. Essentially, I feel I’m the same person. I’m operating a hotel and I’ve just finished cleaning out in the foyer. I ask a female assistant to find me three motherly women to complete a job for me. They arrive and I instruct them that it’s their task to greet the visitors warmly. They are happy to do it and set off determinedly. I’m pleased with their response.
Thank you, Istia. I welcome any insights related to gender in my dreams. I often have dreams of the nature where male and female qualities are represented. Usually, it's the male aspects that I have difficulty manifesting/accepting/ integrating but this seems a good sign then.
I would call this dream a good sign too. I've not had a dream where I was female, but I did have one where a woman and I were grooming each other, and when we turned to look in the mirror our heads were on the same body. This is something straight out of an alchemical text!
Wow, that is interesting, KC. You do have interesting dreams!
If anyone wishes to direct me to somewhere I can read/listen to all about alchemy in a straightforward uninitiated way, I would be grateful.8)
'Jung & the Alchemical Imagination' by Jeffery Raff is a pretty fantastic book.
I believe I told you before about the experience I had being perplexed by a BIG dream and then reading the same dream in a book a few days later, right? This was the book!
Yes, you did. Okay, that sounds great!:D
29th July, 2011.
Friday
“The Doctor, the Little Girl and Pursuing Bella.”
I’m at the doctors. He’s an unusual looking man, slightly plump with squinty eyes. He seems to be foreign somehow, maybe from Russia. I’m waiting for him but he’s busy. Apparently, in the past, he has fixed my vision and now I’ve come to him for help with my hearing.
In the waiting room is a little girl with long blond hair. She’s about 10 and has found a colouring book that I’d flicked through previously. She’s not drawn to any of the images because they depict things like the sky with clouds and sun and, on another page, a repeating pattern meant to represent rain. I can see the artistry in them but I also understand why a child wouldn’t. She settles on the page with the sun and the clouds but she thinks there won’t be much she can do in regards to colour on that page. Someone has started it already though, using yellow and orange for the sun. We talk about how it doesn’t have to be a blue sky with white clouds, how she can include sunset colours like pinks and red and orange. This pleases her and she sets to colouring.
My dog suddenly takes my attention as it streaks through the doctor’s office and down a corridor. Without questioning why I’ve even brought her, I head off in pursuit. We’re outside, running by a suburban backyard. I see two black cats stalking various birds (IRL yesterday, Bella pursued a cat that was stalking birds in the forest). It’s all very vivid and I notice an unusual type of chicken with an odd head shape. I notice it has offspring and the head changes slightly as the bird matures but both birds have a red head.
“Adventures with Rose”
There’s something on at work. The boys are lining up at various doors to get tickets to something. Physically, the school is unrecognisable with a different configuration of buildings to RL. I hop on a line and I’m quickly at the front but when I start to go through the door I baulk, unsure if I’m entering an area that’s private for the boys such as a change shed (locker room). Again I get on a line but fail to see it to the end of the process.
Now I’m with Rose P, the language teacher. We’re having lunch at a small table in a public venue with Rose’s husband (whom I’ve never met IRL) and two strangers. Apparently we’re sharing a table because there’s a shortage. I’m trying to understand the nature of the lines. Rose is a bit impatient with me but explains that the boys were lining to buy tickets to some kind of women’s sporting event. I assume it will happen at the school but she corrects me, surprised that I really know nothing about this big event. Rose has bought tickets but I have no interest.
Now I’m at Rose’s house. I’m looking at a long shelf against a wall with a row of pottery and glass jars and vases on it. I detect some movement and then a little display begins. Little people in fairy tale dress begin to pop up out of the vases. They’re quite mesmerising to witness because of the human way they move. I try to figure out is they’re puppets or mechanical wind-ups. They’re quite amazing.
Now I’m sitting on a sofa or possibly something wider like a bed. Rose’s “children,” two boys sit with us and I think G is to my left as a silent presence. IRL, I imagine Rose’s children would be adults and I don’t even know if she has children. I notice one boy in particular, a slightly pudgy child of about 8, who sits diagonally opposite me. In post dream lucidity, I realise he’s a child version of the doctor from the previous dream. I interact with him and, in the abbreviated way of dreams, he’s suddenly right next to me and I’m tickling him on the tummy. He responds with laughter but I know that he’s not really feeling anything at all.
G’s snoring wakes me. I try to return to sleep but, because G has a cold, his snoring is continuous. I relax myself and eventually some hypnogogics result. I see a vision screen but it seems to be floating off at an angle rather than flat like a movie screen. I’m waiting for it to align normally planning to phase but the snoring is too loud and too persistent and then the clock radio sounds.
Ahh thanks for clear it up, Beekeeper. So its more the other way around.
I myself have had lately also male/female dreams which was quite new to me as there appeared Hermaphrodit-like beings several times, so to say male+female in one. Dont know, but had the feeling that it either shows that I could not yet decide which quality/ energy rather to express, or it was a symbol for that there happens some sort of equilibruum of both energies. In fact when I look at what had happened lately in reality it is as well a kind of indecision/inbetween these 2 energies as also I feel a much stronger union of male&female within than before, expecially referring to a certain life-situation. Its funny or a paradox or just life with its exciting journey through reality and other-world-experiences as a multi-level-being, whereby learning&growing never stops :)
Interesting, Istia. I think it's good that you're aware of these energies within and you're able to work with them in your journey towards self-remembering.
I recently listened to Dr Ernest Hartman on Anne Hill Dream Radio (some excellent interviews there, btw)http://annehill.org/dream-talk-radio/podcasts/page/2/ and while I didn't listen real well because I was cleaning, the gist was that he'd researched people on their boundaries and correlated that research with other things, such as their dream experiences. It seems people with a less pronounced sense of boundaries have more vivid and frequent dream recall and are more prone to nightmares and mental illness :|. Perhaps seeing hermaphrodites is an indicator of a lesser need to clearly delineate male and female. For me, it sometimes works in my dreams that I'll see prominent gay people. I can remember one not so long ago with KDLang (a performer I really like) and the gay character from Glee together. In my real life experience, one of my sisters used to be my brother, so I guess I'm not too black-and-white about gender lines.:wink:
30th July, 2011.
Saturday.
“J Steals”
J has stolen $100000. Somehow, the money was mistakenly given to her and she has held onto it. We discuss options: returning it or concealing it. It seems she’s leaning towards the latter. I don’t mind what she does either way; I won’t expose her. Eventually, she decides that she doesn’t want the money but, because she’s held onto it too long, she needs to find a stealthy way to return it. I help her do this. We are in a place that looks like a post office or a bank and she leaves the money and a letter. I’m aware that she has touched the letter and I’m hoping her fingerprints cannot be lifted. I’m glad I haven’t touched it.
Now I’m in “my” room, pulling a dress up over my head. There’s another dress underneath it but this doesn’t stop me screaming when a tall, slightly stooped, seventies-looking detective enters my room. The scream feels totally false: I’m neither worried for my modesty nor shocked that someone has unexpectedly entered my room.
I’m sitting on the floor now, the detective beside me. He’s actually very kind but I sense his high intelligence and I believe he suspects that I can tell him about J’s crime. He’s speaking close to my ear about what he believes has happened, without making any accusations. Simultaneously, he’s softly adjusting my ear with his hands. Somehow I trust him.
Note: Odd that in the previous night’s dream I attend a doctor to have my ears looked to and in this dream a detective seems to be making these adjustments.
“Chinese Vendor”
G and I have gone to the city. We’re on a busy street with lots of traffic. There’s an open-air stand where you can buy food. The vendor is Chinese, a young man of around 30. G orders something and then takes off on an unknown errand, leaving me to wait. I ask for whatever it was that G ordered. The man gives me the food that looks like an Asian dish and I ask if it’s chicken. He says that it’s ham, which surprises me because it doesn’t look like ham and that’s not a choice G would make. I eat some of the food, without tasting it. Taste isn’t a very frequent dream sense for me but at least I get to eat, usually my dreams deny me the consumption of the food.
While I wait for G, the vendor and I hit it off. I’m seated on a concrete platform with steps and he sits beside me showing me an array of things in a small, hinged box. We converse for a while. What I recall upon waking is seeing an array of round items like bandaids (sticking plasters). Some are really, really small and this fascinates me.
I’m still waiting and the vendor is now talking to an unknown person. I can see myself from behind. I catch a snippet of what the vendor says, “She’s a really nice lady.” I think he must be talking about someone else because surely he wouldn’t talk about me in earshot but he says a bit more and I know he’s talking about me.
“Mario’s Strawberries”
I’m watching Mario, one of the music teachers at work, reaching across a raised garden bed towards a strawberry plant. There’s a third person present who comments every so often but whom I cannot see. My focus is directed forwards and I sometimes wonder with dreams like this whether there’d be any scenery if I looked left or right. Mario is pulling on a stem that is laden with juicy red strawberries. The plant doesn’t want to yield up its fruit, however, so I instruct, “Use two hands, Mario.” There’s a humorous admonishment in my tone and Mario smiles sheepishly, knowing this was always the sensible approach. He climbs up on the garden and begins to pick strawberries. He's taking a final bunch when the unknown person tells him there are insects on those particular strawberries. I feel a little affronted by this. Clearly, I’ve identified these strawberries as something I’ve grown organically and I didn’t know there was anything wrong with them. I wonder what the insects may be: ants or aphids? I can’t see anything wrong at all.
Notes: I’m not sure why I’ve started dreaming about people at work that I don’t see that often or know that well. I wonder if this trend will continue? Mario is a lovely, easy-going, guy and, from what I can discern, a really good teacher.
I don’t often hear my voice in my dreams. Usually my conversations are a bit one-sided, with me doing most of the listening. Often when I do talk, it seems like mental communication (such as with the little girl about the colouring in book). This one seemed more like hearing yourself talk IRL.
Deja vu teaching yoga during Thursday morning class.
Lots of falling during hypnogogics lately.
It looks like there was a point to the recent hospital dreams because that's where I ended up yesterday. I started the day feeling fine, right up to taking Bella for a walk and watching a whale. It was then that my vision started going funny.
Then we were taking H to his game (he'd returned sick from the skills camp but felt he could play some of it - they rely on him a lot). We dropped him off for warm-ups and went to the produce markets. My eyes wouldn't focus right and the auric disturbances had increased. I asked G if we could see if the doctors were open so I could get some Zomig.
They were open but they said I'd have to wait, so G sent F (our eldest) to sit with me for a while and went off to watch H. I sat with my eyes closed listening for my name.
Long story shorter, G replaced F and began what turned out to be something of a vigil. I was given a bag and was copiously sick. Then I asked for the bathroom, where I was sick some more. The doctor was saying things about my heart and dehydration and neurology and I was too out of it to care. My head hurts so much when I'm having a migraine that I'm always privately sure I'm having a stroke. It didn't help that the first time I had one, 14 years ago while I was expecting my youngest, this was the doctor's diagnosis! The paramedic was partiicularly kind, being a migraine sufferer herself and kept crooning soft words of comfort.
The docor called an abulance that took two hours to come. G was upset and kept saying he'd take me but the doctor wouldn't let him. They took me to the hospital, the ambulance men were really kind and I was sick again. There were a lot of questions from hospital staff whom I answered often without opening my eyes. There was torch light in my eyes, warm blankets (I was so cold), hospital noise, needles and an IV. I was there until 9pm. Poor G spent the entire time by my bed. At one stage our friend Phil who works there as a radiographer had a coffe with him.
My doctor was an Asian lady, Chinese I think. Towards the end, she sat beside me and spoke gently, ascertaining certain things. She told me about a woman she'd recently seen who'd had symptoms like mine who'd had an enormous brain tumour. She explained they'd been weighing up a lumbar puncture and a cat scan for me and said if my symptoms continued I'd have to return for these . She wanted to know if I'd had any falls (I'd tripped that morning walking down a ramp with washing because our back deck isn't built yet but hadn't hit my head) or memory lapses. G told her that in the last two weeks I'd kept forgetting things mid-sentence but I explained this often resulted from me from having too much too to do.
Later she spoke to me again and her energy felt like that of the Chinese vendor from the previous night's dream. G was somewhere else, apparently, because I'd asked him if he'd heard the conversation. She began telling me how she admired teachers and that she wouldn't be where she was without a particular teacher. I told her that I admired doctors and also that I liked being a teacher, that I'd met some exceptional people that way. Then she looked a few moments in my eyes and said, "I like your face, you're really pretty." It seems odd now, but it didn't then. I liked her face too and when women in our 40s say things like that to each other, we know it means something different to when you say it to a 20 something.:lol: It was like the Chinese DC calling me "A really nice lady."
P.s. This has taken ages to type because my eyes are still acting weird.
Oh jeez.... How are you feeling now?
I'm gonna go light a stick of incense and ask for your return to full health, It's all I know to do.
Hello, Beek.
I hope it's something minor. When I get dehydrated in the sun, bad stuff happens for me.
Get well soon!
Oliver
It was a migraine, guys. They were a bit anxious in case it was a stroke - but it wasn't.:D
1st August, 2011.
Monday.
The hypnogogic imagery post migraine has been incredible. It’s as though REM sleep has been switched on indefinitely. I spent Saturday with a need to sleep frequently and with little energy for anything else. No sooner would my head hit the pillow and the dream would begin. All kinds of people popped in and I had frequent false awakenings too. It was very peculiar!
When I hit the pillow last night, I decided that if it was still occurring I’d play with it a little.
Closed eyes: Knitting needles with a mottled mauve wool against a black background. The needles are moving and the thread is blowing slightly. I open my eyes and they’re still perfectly obvious against the black of the room.
I want to see if I can use intention to make the knitting grow. It works but the image dims slightly.
I’m looking down on a man in the shower. I can really see his hands as he washes himself with soap.
I’m looking over the rim of a coffee cup. The cup is rotating slowly and is largely shadowed except for an area of light on the rim that I follow with my eye.
I have a bird’s eye view of a hatch into some type of submarine. It’s painted a rust colour, which seems wrong to me. Now I rise up and I can see that it’s moving forward and it’s exceedingly long. There’s a long black spike at the front with small black balls in clusters along it. It looks like something out of a sci-fi. Doesn’t seem a logical design.
Bits and pieces of dreams
“Bees”
I’m taken up by a swarm of bees. I remember the noise and being lifted and surrounded and feeling it was cartoonish. There was no pain and it was hard to remember it even happened.
“Flowers”
There’s a pregnant woman who needs a lift to work. We apparently work together and she expects a lift on the back of a motorcycle. I tell her I’ll find a car instead.
I know she would like to gather some flowers for a vase when she returns from work. I decide to do this. I go outside and watch a duck in clothing waddle past me. I stop and watch it for a while. I wonder if I should talk to it. I don’t know what this is supposed to mean, what I’m supposed to do but I know it’s something I’m supposed to react to in a particular way.
I’m in the house (one I find dark and a bit run down) preparing the flowers. The stems are too short and the flowers keep dipping under the water and getting wet. I get them right and then the water turns to mud.
There are others in the room, neighbours. I turn to a water cooler to get clean water for the flowers but I feel that I shouldn’t use the drinking water like that. I see a tap but it has some contraption on it that I don’t know how to loosen. I lose my temper and ask a girl that looks like Miley Syrus how you use this tap. She fixes it for me and I complete the task.
Now there are a group of us walking home. My niece has a mobile phone and it rings. She holds it upside down and too far from her face. I show her how to use it properly. She tells me it’s Dad with a message from Jane that my course is resuming tomorrow.
I feel anxious now. This is a postgraduate course I began in the dream world but never finished. It catches up with me every so often and it makes me anxious because I have to travel to Sydney Uni to do it and continue working in Wollongong. I don’t know how I’ll cope.
Probably a platypus in disguise. :lol: ;)Quote:
I go outside and watch a duck in clothing waddle past me. I stop and watch it for a while. I wonder if I should talk to it. I don’t know what this is supposed to mean, what I’m supposed to do but I know it’s something I’m supposed to react to in a particular way.
Oh, Oliver, that cracked me up!:lol:
You know someone at work suggested that the ongoing hypnogogics was probably a sign that one of the shots of painkiller they gave me at the hospital was an opiate and took a day to leave my system. Now, that's a real possibility! (Of course, my colleagues started referring to me as "the junky" after that :roll:)
Coming to think of it, I once read a lengthy article that tried to prove NDEs didn't exist by discussing a landmark case and how the NDE must have been a side effect of the narcotic used. Never mind all the other NDEs that didn't happen in the 70s without that medication and not during surgery. Skoff-tics. :roll:
Having said that, I'm just glad you're okay again. :)
3rd August, 2011.
Wednesday
I’m pretty certain the order of these dreams is hopelessly wrong. I don’t recall it as simultaneous, as I have with other many dreams recently, but I just don’t remember the order.
"Pup"
G and I are playing with a new puppy we’ve bought ourselves, a furry German shepherd. G is particularly attached. There’s no real plot, just playing with the puppy. It’s an extremely tactile dream and I really feel the animal’s soft furriness. We are located outside and the pup races between us and a ute, where it jumps up onto the tray. I'm loving this pup but I'm not used to the family pet showing a preference for G.:-)
We’re heading back to the house. I think it’s getting dark and I’m getting tired. There are some flying lounge cushions under my feet and I try to distribute my weight across them so I can lie down and go to sleep. It's a bit of a balancing act but I make it back to the door that way.
I awaken in a rambling house where a breeze blows. Immediately I go to work ironing and folding clothes (I did this before bed, a backlog from the weekend). I soon realise it’s night time and I still have time to sleep but I decide to go on with my work anyway so I can get ahead in my tasks.
Helen L is awake doing the same thing, except she runs around frantically, complaining she has no time and she can’t stop. I’m critical of this, as I am IRL, because she makes herself literally ill and never takes a moment to enjoy herself. I cannot understand why Helen’s life should be so difficult: she was unable to have children and she lives frugally, yet she works from morning to bed and she feels ever exploited and unappreciated.
I see an orange beach towel folded neatly on an armchair. I can’t place it. I don’t remember buying it for anyone but I think about whose birthday is next (Ashley, my niece’s) and decide I must have bought it for her and forgotten.
A slip of paper the size of a cheque appears flies towards my face. It clearly has the words, “Bad check,” typed all over it (spelt the American way).:banghead:
Now I’m with two children- a little girl, whom I see, and a smaller boy, who is just an idea. I treat them as my own, though they’re much smaller than my sons. They’ve woken too and morning is approaching. One has heard a noise and we’re investigating, holding hands and walking together. We walk out through some double doors of our house and find ourselves in a stylish shopping arcade. This stops me in my tracks for a moment. I wonder how I could have forgotten this was attached to our house. I'm pleased it's there, thinking it very pretty and handy.
Remote Viewing: On Monday, as I was driving to work, I briefly saw my car and the traffic aerially. I didn’t “leave my body” ; I just “saw” the view superimposed over my vision as I do sometimes when I’m driving home and I “see” a parcel on my doorstep. I couldn’t figure any reason for it; it didn't act as warning.
Then, on Tuesday as I was entering my house after walking the dog, in a hurry because I was running an additional early class for my seniors, I wondered what the time was. In response, a vision of a digital clock superimposed itself and I read the time: 7.52. I was rushing but there was no way I was going to dismiss this without checking accuracy, so I ducked in to my garage, opened my car door and looked at the clock: 7.52.
P.s. Got an ugly, massive bruise on my arm from where they took blood the other day!
Hello, Beek.
Here her and your condition are put into contrast to show you something about the nature of the mental elemental. The key to seeing this is the mental elemental portrayed is her running around frantically - her mind is racing.Quote:
Helen L is awake doing the same thing, except she runs around frantically, complaining she has no time and she can’t stop. I’m critical of this, as I am IRL, because she makes herself literally ill and never takes a moment to enjoy herself. I cannot understand why Helen’s life should be so difficult: she was unable to have children and she lives frugally, yet she works from morning to bed and she feels ever exploited and unappreciated.
You say she's working all the time - now wonder she feels exploited, but that puts the responsibility entirely elsewhere, diminishing the role her own choices play. By no work and no other nourishing activities she overstimulates the mental elemental, leading to it being constantly agitated. She can't stop because her mind keeps going to the program she puts it in. The next task, the next task, the next task...
As her mind gets no rest her capacity for anything is diminished. There's no relaxation, which is felt as "having no time." Which rather means "having no time to enjoy life." The overstimulation of the mental pushes out all capability to enjoy life. Enjoying life needs space. The more space you have within, the less activities are truly experienced as chores. Space gets diminished when needs go unsatisfied.
In contrast you can actually get ahead of your work because you don't have your mental elemental in such a condition. By having fulfilled your needs (including for sleep) you find the space to do the extra. Which leads to the paradox that those actually taking time to fulfill their needs may also outperform those that know only work. Even if not, they certainly enjoy life more, and have not much reason to complain, plenty of lifeforce and are in comparison better warded against illness.
Cheers,
Oliver
Yes, Oliver, I can identify with Helen but I had unpleasant experiences that sent me in a different direction and I refuse to lose the life/work balance. I hope Helen will change because I really like her but these things are often inculturation.
4th August, 2011.
Thursday.
“In the nick of time.”
I’m driving too fast through suburban streets when my brake fails. I try to pull into the gutter but there are numerous people scattered along and I’d kill someone. I’m heading towards a double storey red brick house and I know my car will cause substantial damage if I don’t do something so I take my foot off the accelerator and the car stops.
“RP’s Babies”
I seem to be sharing a house with Roseanne P. She is very pregnant but she also already has at least two other children. I am with one of those, a particularly unappealing little baby with a wrinkly face and a tendency to biting. I scold her and make her behave herself. That said, I’ve been mindlessly aggressive towards Roseanne, blocking the door as she was coming through and thumping her belly. I can’t understand why I would have done such a thing, especially to an expectant mother, and Roseanne is complaining vociferously. I realise that that endangered her baby and now I put a hand on her tummy to feel that everything is all right.
Roseanne is folding a cotton kiddy sheet, one I used to have for my kids, a hand-me-down that comes with a set of associations. She is showing her a stain on it from where a visiting child threw up on it. I think it wrong that she’s teaching such young children to talk behind people’s backs. This reminds me of how vain and superficial she is and I look again at the baby’s face, surprised to see that she’s not at all attractive, despite her parents’ good looks. I wonder how that genetic mix came about;
Note: IRL, Roseanne was, for me at least, an unusually vain person (as was the person who handed down the baby sheet). Blond and blue eyed, she used to boast that she had chosen her husband for his superior good looks and intelligence and that she felt intelligent, beautiful people had a duty to have more children. She ended up having 5 or 6. She was one of those people who always gave me the impression that her friendship was based on her ideas of your social acceptability and not much else. I always took her lightly because she was considerably younger than me.
“Flight with the Boys”
I’m flying down a road where, beneath me, are people in bathers and I’m struggling against the wind. I’m entering the gates of a school with the others. I meet a woman whom, for some reason, I think is a golfer (?) and she’s telling me she doesn’t fly much anymore herself. She’s tall and has a hard, thin body and bobbed, curly light brown hair. I tell her I really like flying but I’m having trouble remaining steady in the wind. She flies up beside me and that stabilises me now. She suggests we go get a coffee and we fly further into the school.
Now I’m flying down corridors, over the heads of high school students most of who react as though it’s perfectly normal and ignore me. Some, however, join me. It takes the first few a few moments to remember how to do it but I keep reminding them they’ve done it before and eventually they’re all up. While I fly with them I briefly consider some aerial acrobatics but decide against it because I’m not feeling confident. We fly joyfully to the other edges of the school and then one of the boys says, “I don’t want to go any further.” The others agree and I’m happy to respect their desires to remain within the school boundaries. I look out over at the modern brick buildings that border the school and wonder what the complex is, deciding that it’s a retirement village.
Now the boys are on benches around a table. Brock W, a highly intelligent boy I teach IRL, is experimenting with fire. He has found someone’s discarded pay receipt and he’s trying to skeletonise it to see if he can leave the writing in tact. He sets it on fire but it soon appears it will continue to burn and possibly burn down the table so I go to his side of the table and blow it out. It takes a couple of breaths and then another boy (a lovely boy that from the chess club I accompanied to a competition yesterday) pours water over what’s left. We all look close to see if Brock has been successful and I see a name, something foreign and hard to pronounce.
Now we’re on the return flight. I’m playing with the experience, running on air.