Beekeeper's Adventures in Consciousness

[Beekeeper]

25^th November, 2011.
Friday

During meditation yesterday afternoon, I actually got hypnagogics, which is unusual for me in the afternoon. I was watching with concentration and could hear my breathing alter to sleep patterns. My etheric hand loosened spontaneously but I knew I wouldn’t have time for a projection because I needed to get my son to a job interview*. I think the astral world is calling – must induce a lucid dream or projection soon!

“Falling through the Bridge.”
Not much recall. I was helping build a bridge with many other people. There were still incomplete parts and you had to be carefully. On my way back, I forgot about the gaps and fell through but I landed in water and was none-the-worse for the experience.

* He was successful.

[Kali's Child]

I love it when that happens, but it's pretty rare. About the only thing I can induce is insomnia.

[Beekeeper]

About the only thing I can induce is insomnia.

27^th November, 2011.
Sunday.
“Helen’s Masters.”
I’m passing through a doorway and I stop to speak to Helen L. She’s fired up, referencing her Master’s Degree. Apparently, some type of promised reimbursement for her course has not ensued. She’s telling me about it and about finding some course work that means she has finished. She's speaking to me as though I too had completed a Master’s degree. I listen indulgently, without comment.

"Wet hair"
Now there’s something to do with my being a swimmer. It’s possible I’m wet from just having swim and I’m sitting or reclining and looking at something with my image on it as people pass in and out of the room. I appear to be in a public place. In the image my hair is a certain way that I interpret as wet from having just swum (?) but it's not really wet, just long again and piled up in a lopsided bun. Somehow I’m aware that it looks the same way as I sit there and that this is a curious coincidence.

There’s some other type of information exchange – possibly involving a computer – but I can’t recall it.
Later...

“Classroom Simulation.”
I’m in class seated learning with other teachers in preparation to teach. Apparently we’re learning a Shakespeare text with which I’m unfamiliar. I’ve completed the work and feeling competent so I’m surprised when Erin takes the floor and begins to show us the answers because it seems unnecessary. I realize I’m in a dream but I’m still working on this project, so it’s likely I’m in a simulation, even though the ensuing challenges don’t seem very difficult.

I look at my hands and see I have a heading that I’ve cut out so I decide to paste in on the page where I’ve been working. When I do, I see that an identical heading is already there and even though I’ve been writing, rather than typing, the work is in print. I stick the extra heading down the side of the work. It should now be necessary to turn the book on to its side to read the heading but when I’m done it reads vertically, as though each letter has oriented itself to the page.

I pass down a corridor, accompanied by a group. There’s talk around me and someone tells me I’ll need to organise somebody to complete the artwork for our group. I tell them I’ll get Paul M, an artist friend. We went to school together and I assume he’s present.

I’m still lucid but will-inhibited. I sit at a large table to work. I’m quiet but someone across the table, a female and apparently a fellow student, says I’m talking too much. I’m unperturbed but instantly surrounded by support, in any case. Prominent is a loving female presence who embraces me from behind and makes me feel l very loved and safe. I wonder if it’s my school friend, Adriana.

I watch through a glass window to the grey ocean outside and my support team watches quietly with me. There seem to be a lot of them. I get a particular feeling then I see a car drive out into the water, pursued by a boat (water police?). I become excited on two accounts: one, because I knew the feeling would herald something eventful and, two, because of the actual event itself. Now I become more animated, expressing my knowingness that something would happen. It's only the second time I've spoken in the entire dream sequence. Then I become fearful for the person in the car who is showing no sense in his effort to escape his pursuer.

I’m trying to post these events on the forums. I either have a false memory or I did dream this next bit and only remember the part where I try to record it. I’m trying to patch in some bits of film (“Alice in Wonderland”?) to illustrate what happened in the dream - the latest one I haven't seen yet, except for a viewing extract used in an exam for our kids. For some reason I want to mention an actress, I remember a name Helen Latroc or Helen Latov or Latrev or even Levertov (like the poet) that I consider using in the thread title but I’m unsure and consider looking it up on the net. I’m thinking she played the character Carla in Cheers or she looks like her.

[Beekeeper]

28^th November, 2011.
Tuesday.

“Being Odd”
I walk trough a house in morning about to wake H, my youngest son. I enter a bedroom and wake Donald M as well, who is, surprisingly, sharing a bed with H. I pass the next room and Robert B emerges. Then there is AC standing before me like a mystical prophetess with blinded eyes, warning me about a possessing entity in the vicinity.

Still in the same house, football parents emerge from bedrooms. I think Karen and Paul E are there and Vicki and her husband. They’re dressed to go to a movie and assume I’m coming but I have work to do. It makes me feel like the odd one out.

I begin to talk about the Asleigh S case, how I helped her when she was younger. Somehow it becomes a story about a troublesome spirit that I helped her banish. Again, in telling the story I feel somewhat abnormal.

[Beekeeper]

30^th November, 2011.
Wednesday

Last day of November already!

“Lourdes Smoking”
I sit in a dining booth squeezed between Lourdes and someone else from work (Tienelle, I think). Lourdes does most the talking. I notice she is smoking and ask the person on my right to slide out so I can avoid the smoke but I stay at the table with them.

Note: IRL Lourdes doesn’t smoke but she has become increasingly and unreasonably angry about her life, especially her career and inability to make big money in teaching. Since I’ve been around her a lot, I’ve started to find her negativity a bit toxic and my attempts to lighten her up a bit have clearly irritated her at times.

“Puppy for Troy”
G waits at an airport for a man to disembark a plane. He holds a cute pup and when he presents it to the man, the man becomes sentimental. It appears the man is Troy.

Note: Troy’s dog, Duke, is aged. I wonder if the dream suggests Duke will die soon. We haven’t seen them for a while.

“Sarah Br” fragment
I can’t recall most of this dream but I remember being in the basement level of an apartment building and knowing Sarah Br lives at the far end of the floor.

[Beekeeper]

1^st December, 2011.
Thursday
“Two Dogs”
I’m walking two dogs, a German shepherd and a Labrador along a straight footpath beside a busy four-lane highway. The shepherd is so calm and well behaved that he walks off leash. The Labrador is somebody else’s dog, a lovely, exuberant animal but behaving itself as we walk.

Outside a two-storey building I see Russell speaking to another man. For a reason I cannot recall now, I take this as my cue to turn around and walk the other way. The Labrador is possibly Russell’s dog.

“Teaching with Erin”
I’m in a large teaching space with Erin. We’re in charge of a History class (even though IRL neither of us is currently teaching History) – it’s Erin’s class, rather than mine. A chubby female student with glasses and wiry long hair, basically a young woman rather than a high school student, takes the floor to confidently recite an answer to a question Erin has apparently asked. I’m impressed by her answer and feel my own students aren’t of the same caliber. This makes me doubt my own competence as a teacher.

Now Erin is looking in the bottom shelf of a piece of furniture (that translates as a little white bedside table my sister and I had in our room growing up) and she finds two English textbooks. These should be in the bookroom and have probably been written off as lost. She comments on this with dissatisfaction.

Now I’m in another room at her request. I want to translate it as doing laundry but that’s not it at all. There doesn’t in fact seem to be a translation but I’m operating some type of machinery and the process causes warm air to go into the original large teaching space. Eventually, I think it must be too warm in there and that I can stop now.

At this point I wake briefly to throw off the blankets.

“Dancing with Brian”
Now I’m back in the teaching space. I see Brian H from my old job, someone I’ve always liked. We decide it would be fun to dance and Brian lifts me ridiculously high in the air. I consequently feel like I’m flying and looking down creates an impossible perspective.

G snores me awake.

“Micheala’s friend”
I’m in a car between Marie and Micheala . Micheala is on my right driving but she seems to be having trouble. She’s going too fast and missing road signs. When she speeds through a red light and doesn’t notice, I begin to drive from my position in the middle. I explain what she did. (I've been on this dream highway before).

Now Micheala wants to pull off the highway. We enter a small, humble house that belongs to her friend. We pass through its dimly-lit rooms to a backroom where there’s a dark haired toddler in a cot. The toddler instantly responds to Micheala, putting her arms out. I notice that, curiously, the child is wearing eyeliner that curves up at the edges.

The child’s father comes through the front door and down towards us. He has a mesomorphic build but he’s only about my height. He is clearly some kind of labourer.

As we pass into the modest living room, Micheala points out a couple of little parcels on the floor and tells me disapprovingly they contain drugs. I can read the man and know this to be so. I understand that he needs relief for his stress but doesn’t know a better way. I think Micheala plans to report him and I worry for him a bit but she tells me she won’t. We move to the front yard.

Other people begin to arrive. There is apparently a woman there who is in some way related to the man. Although I don’t recall seeing her, I know she is thin with lank, mousy hair and probably in her 40s. Among the other people are suitors for this woman. Oddly, though they are of totally different races – one Japanese and one white Australian - both are younger than her and both have large heads in proportion to their bodies. I think it curious that they arrive with relatives.

There’s an odd bit now where my sister is there with a calico bear toy. It seems to be held together very loosely at the seams and, because she’s flailing it about, I tell her she needs to be more delicate or it will disintegrate. I go in search of a needle to repair it and find one, along with some caramel. I pop the caramel in my mouth and can taste it.*

Back in the living room, the man who owns the house begins telling us how he’s seen how email works for the first time – a friend showed him. He is full of awe. That anyone today doesn’t use a computer comes as a revelation to me.

Now I’m outside again. The man continues talking and gesticulating. I see his hands and I’m fascinated. His outer fingers belong on a delicate female hand but his inner ones are excessively long and masculine. I’m trying to figure it.

Now I’m back in his bathroom, trying to spit out the caramel, which has suddenly become foul, gooey and sickly sweet in my mouth.

*This is only the second time I can recall experiencing taste in a dream.

Notes: What a strange night! This last one especially will take some figuring.

[Beekeeper]

2^nd December, 2011.
Friday.

Working out the sequence of this one will be difficult, much like yesterday’s dream.

“Writing a Play and Getting stuck.”

I’m going to produce a play and film it. I have a card in my hand - an appointment, apparently, at the CEO (Catholic Education Office).

I watch a number of teens perform. They’re very talented boys and girls and supposedly about to become stars in a new show that traces its origins back to the I Love Lucy programmes. (Lucy, hey? Do you think this dream is trying to tell me something?).

Now I’m in my car and trying to get to the office. I’ve been a bit sluggish on the uptake of the idea that I need to be somewhere and do something because I can’t actually remember how all this began within the dream itself. For some reason, I’m in an open car park. At the very moment I’m about to back out of my spot, hundreds of uniformed schoolboys pass through the car park and block my movement. I watch them, walking in impressive regimented lines, four or so abreast (very unrealistic!) Since I can’t go anywhere, I begin to compose a song in the car off the top of my head.

This segues into a performance scene. I’m enjoying wearing a white dress and yellow high heels as I sing a song about a woman (my character) who has broken up with her love. The song powerfully evokes the emotion of its narrative and this is good because it’s optimistic, anticipating the real love to come. Singing it makes me feel wonderful.

Now I’m in a room with my younger sister. I feel that she too has performed recently. We’re comparing our blouses, which are slightly different shades of purple and enjoying the co-incidence of their similarity.

I seem to have made it to the CE offices but I can’t remember much what occurs at this point. I speak to a woman at the desk. Am I late?

I’m in a school canteen. I hear one of the mothers preparing the food reference the “lovely Therese C.” Therese is a woman I worked with. She could indeed be lovely but she was very easily swayed by an unpleasant peer influence and a fellow colleague, not prone to giving such labels, once aptly named her “the smiling assassin.” She’s making a sandwich. I decide to say hello and she smiles.

Now I’m driving out of the car park. I want to go left but cannot manoeuvre my vehicle to make a left turn so I drive straight into the parking station across the road. I plan to exit as soon as possible and immediately begin following the exit signs but they continually and frustrating lead me downwards to yet another level. Curiously, I’m simultaneously driving and walking now, pushing a baby in a pram (astral elemental probably). My attention is briefly drawn as I pass an image of one of my Year 8 students, a cute Philippino boy called Gustavo. He is in an optometrist’s chair and I remember that he said he works for his uncle, an optometrist (this is pure dream fabrication) and decide they must have used him in their advertising photo.

I see an exit and I rush towards it on foot. I’m almost there when a female manager pulls down a roller shutter. I ask her to let me out but she won’t, giving some forgotten excuse. I’m angry now and I shout at her as I begin to move back down the corridor pushing my pram in the direction I came.

Now I’m transported to a hotel room with G. This room is in the building and I don’t worry that I don’t know how I arrived. It seems I’ve already conveyed everything that happened to him. G has been availing himself of the amenities and I notice the waste paper basket has already been used. Feeling vengeful about my imprisonment here, I suggest we leave without paying but G tells me he checked in formally.

I’m outside now, sitting on the grass and looking up towards a stage set up for children performers. Shirley Temple sits to my right and when I notice this I say, “Show me your dimples.” She responds with a smile. Soon she is called up to the stage where she begins to perform. There’s something surreal about the performance but I cannot recall what it is now. Perhaps it does things that could only happen on film, even though it’s a live performance.

I’m in the dull greyness of brick and concrete stairwells of a school building, ascending.

Notes:
I suspect I could have extricated myself from every frustrating moment in this dream sequence if I had simply composed a new song for the show I was creating. It worked in the first car park but I didn’t have the presence of mind to keep doing it. Alternately, given the number of lucidity cues, I could have become lucid. I feel I came nearest to this at the most frustrating moment when I noticed Gustavo’s image

[Beekeeper]

4^th December, 2011.
Sunday.
Fragmented recall and I don’t feel like writing today.

There’s something about Carmen’s baby, Zoe. I have to visit them in secret because someone from earlier in the dream has become a threat to the baby and Carmen takes her into hiding.

“Failure to Extend.”
I meet an old Extension English class out by a gazebo in an unfamiliar setting. They’ve come for extra classes but I’m unprepared to teach them and waste time trying to get them to sing something. I stray off somewhere and return with definite ideas about how they can fruitfully spend this time but they’re disappearing into the distance.

[Beekeeper]

5^th December, 2011.
Monday.

“Running.”
I’m at university in a big lecture hall watching a presentation when I decide I don’t want to stay any longer. I’m a bit self-conscious leaving because the next speakers are African children and I don’t want anyone thinking I’m leaving because I’m not interested in what they’re saying.

I move towards the back door where a young man stands and observes me. He has the memorable quality of a guide.

I start to run across the university lawns back to my dorm (I never lived on site in my RL university experience). I love running and marvel at how totally unimpeded my body feels: no muscle fatigue of exertion of heart or lungs. I’m extremely swift too.

I reach a short mesh fence set up like a narrow maze with various gaps where you can pass. I only take a momentary wrong turn and immediately spot the exit I didn’t see before only a metre or so away. I know I could have easily jumped the fence but I’m more satisfied using it like a maze.

Back in my room, I’m still unsure of what the urgency was all about – perhaps to work on an assignment? I pick up a paper and read how to go about the wake-back-to-bed method for lucid dreaming. It’s the middle of the day but I think this would be a good idea, so I go to bed.

“Subduing the Ghost”
I’m in a different house that may in fact be an extension of the earlier dream environment. At first things are somewhat routine but there’s a moment when I’m in “my bedroom” that I observe a waste paper basket floating. The room itself is vivid and set up with a different orientation to my RL bedroom. There’s a queen-sized bed with a totally different bedspread - something light and feminine. There’s also a bar fridge in the room.

I call my sister J in to witness the floating basket. I’m pleased when it performs for her too.

Now I’m in what in some sense is my parents’ bedroom from the house where I was raised and I’m young again. There’s a programme being made and I’m being filmed for it, even though there’s no filming apparatus. I’m penciling a mask on my face, totally enjoying the creative process. I want it to be tribal but also contemporary in some way. I’m satisfied with the first lines and aiming for symmetry. I don’t want it to look like KISS but I’m aware that it could easily go that way so I keep modifying the design as I go. Soon there’s a male beside me also applying his mask. He's tall, thin with moderately long dark hair (suggested by the KISS thought probably – though he looks more Chris Angel than Gene Simmons).

A moment of interruption: I see a flash of the TV show. It shows a couple, both nurses, good-looking blondes sitting entwined on the floor. I wonder if it’s an appropriate way to show them on what I believe is a children’s programme.

The perspective returns to me seeing myself in the mirror. The lines have been filled in with colour and the mask has acquired a girlier look. The guy beside me expresses approval and I think it’s okay.

Now I’m in what feels like but doesn’t look my childhood bedroom. The ghost has returned and she’s doing various things to make herself felt. Dad, J and B are there – I guess we’re all younger. The ghost starts to produce intricate scenes on the wall made with coloured cotton that materializes out of thin air. They’re beautiful and I scruntinise them closely, trying to decipher what she’s trying to tell us. This continues for a while but then she seems to become frustrated and this makes her a bit malicious. I see a stiffening skink lizard being shoved towards my face. I’m not afraid of lizards, so this doesn’t have the desired effect. In fact, I’m fond of them and I react to her cruelty by grabbing her arm. No sooner have I done so than I’ve subdued her ghostly vehicle and straddled her. I apply mind-control, sensing her will is less than mine, and force her into materialization. She is an old woman and I want to call her Betty. I assume she is the former occupant of this house I occupy in current time.

The dream moves forward and Betty has been assimilated into the family. I notice someone, a woman, who comes and goes and I suspect Betty has done a psychic reading for her. I ask Betty if she wants us to help her set herself up as a medium but she feigns being hard or hearing. I believe she’s faking deafness, not believing her ghostly body would present physical defects. I write down what I’ve been trying to say to her but she continues her pretense of not understanding so I let it be.

“Gabriell’s U-turn.”
Cabrielle picks me up for work, unexpectedly. She's driving north down Riverside when suddenly she does a U-turn over double lines. I immediately take her wheel, not knowing what she’s doing but this causes the car to pull towards the cliff face, so I relinquish it. It appears we have a sporting event and she thought she had to drive one way and do a U-turn. If I had understood our proper destination I could have directed her.

Note: I recognise the situation on which this dream is commenting.

[Beekeeper]

6^th December, 2011.
Tuesday.

“Subterranean restaurant”
I’m with Wendy and another woman and we’re in a cosy, subterranean restaurant. Wendy is asking me if I’ve heard about the yoga class that happens down here and if I’ll try it out now that I won’t be teaching my own classes. I’m saying I will probably just work on my own. Either Wendy or the other mentions another time they were here together and I’m mildly offended not to have been invited on that occasion.

Now an idea is introduced, writ large across the air as if across a computer screen. It seems to be from an older male forum member. It suggests that certain features of particular places predispose them to certain happenings. As it makes the suggestion a significant indention beside the fireplace illuminates and we instantly understand that it would easily conceal the body of a child.

One of the others suggests we look for a secreted child and I do so in the spirit of a lark. I’m surprised to find a small, familiar girl toddler bound poorly by sticky tape. As soon as we discover her, I kiss her and kiss her again, feeling tremendous affection for this dear little girl. It seems Wendy knows of her disappearance, that it has been known for several days, and she is critical in her judgement of me for not having known.

“Slowing down”
A couple more dreams of going way too fast in my car. The second one is better recalled. I’m heading south and I do eventually slow my car down but I need to keep watching that I don’t pick up speed again. IRL there are many speed cameras in that direction and in the dream I wonder if I have passed any.