Quote Originally Posted by Psionkx
quite the impressive pace B 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.

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.