aerie dreams
Recollections from the night. Dreams of life in space; mystical practices and visitations. Visit: Jaundiced Eye
Friday
Mountain Village Cobblestone Streets
It's hilly, and the street is narrow. I can't tell what kind of houses because it's so dark, and then I notice that there's a mountain in the center of the city.
I spend some time looking at the mountain, it's a tall peak and the slope is a bit steep to seem reasonable. Also the distribution of snow is in pockets along it's side.
The peak is tall and narrow.
I've never seen a mountain like this and I think it looks unnatural.
My former wife is in the street with me and she's saying that she doesn't think she'll be around much longer.
Aerie Dreams
Saturday
Is this My Memory, or Someone else's?
It's a dream of an undeveloped planet with people on it. They're regular people, but they all look brown; kind of a dark brown.
It's warm, they wear clothing but it doesn't cover all that much.
The environment has a lot of bushes, but I don't see tall trees. I don't see buildings,but I my experience was brief. I think the people were too primitive for buildings.
I'm thinking, in the dream, that it's kind of strange and a new experience to be on a planet with so few people.
Understanding that I'm from someplace else.
I'm there to teach, I'm thinking that these people need to understand some things about mathematics, and other things before they can develop civilizations.
I don't know if it was Earth a very long time ago or not. I don't know where I was from.
Aerie Dreams
Sunday
Do we want to call it Nibiru?
One of the dreams, back in the early '90s was about the coming ice age.
I was a Canadian businessman who stepped off of a train, looked around and the landscape was covered in ice, the train did not run on tracks but the outside of the cars was cylindrical with screw like strips around the outside so that when it rotated the train would move either forward or backward.
I knew it was the future because the train platform was from the 20th century and I was a little in awe to be on something from that century. And when I had the dream it I was still living in the 20th century.
I've dreamed about the moon being colonized, but initially an outpost to mine the regolith, then cities.
Mars is terraformed, I was in one of the crews of people planting conifers, and dying because it was such a hostile environment.
There is a large blue planet coming close to the earth.
Looking up, expecting to see the moon, I saw a large blue world, and thought that it might be a gas giant. It was the right color of blue. It's gravity was pulling things off of the earth's surface, and they were drifting upwards.
That initial dream was in the '90s. I don't remember if I was living in California or if I had moved to North Carolina yet.
But in the last six months I've had two dreams from space where I see a large blue planet, maybe four or five times the size of earth, coming close to the earth and causing it's orbit to change.
The planet sort of fits the description of Uranus or Neptune; but I'm not sure that the color is quite right and the planet in my dream is smaller than images of Uranus or Neptune with images of Earth next to them.
It appears to come from the outer reaches of the solar system, and I view it from space,which may mean that there is some human or quasi-human observer viewing it.
But I have no idea of when this happens or how it affects life overall on the planet. Or for that matter how the new orbit is different from the old.
Aerie Dreams
Thursday
Near Colliding Worlds
It's disturbing because its gravity moves things and pulls at things, and people.
A great blue world much larger than the Earth came meandering into Earth's orbit and came close enough to cause seas to rise and pull the person I was in the dream out of their beach chair.
Then I changed perspective and saw it from space, passing the Earth and changing our orbit so that it was slightly further from the Sun.
This is the second disturbing dream I've had about a near collision between Earth and what looks like a blue gas giant.
The end of the dream was filled with the idea that we as a species need to explore space seriously and have a significant number of us live on another world such as Mars and in space itself so that we aren't all all on this one planet.
Aerie Dreams
Saturday
Lines on a Bone White Face
I dreamed about someone who didn't fit into the usual racial categories. A young woman with unnatural looking horizontal lines on her face that ran parallel less than half inch apart.
Her face had Caucasian features with bleach white skin, her open eyes dark brown or black with dark brown hair.
I presume that she was dead as she lay on her side on the grass under a tree.
There was a man nearby who had stepped off of what looked like a topless four wheel drive vehicle. He was balding with short hair on on the sides of his head.
He looked so much like us.
Aerie Dreams
Sunday
Winter in Burbank?
I don't live in Burbank so I must have been dreaming of somebody else. But sometimes I dream of things and years later the dream looks like it was predictive.
So I was dreaming about someone who was very surprised that it was snowing, and we know it never does that there.
And accumulating. At least an inch, maybe a little more.
In Burbank California.
Aerie Dreams
Thursday
In the Midst of Mobilization
We were at war with Russia and China!
I was torn away from my wife and drafted into the military. Mobilized and on my way somewhere far from civilian certitudes.
I had no idea where I was going, and I had no idea how well my wife would fare without me.
Like a regurgitation of some old World War movie I was on a bus or a train and seemingly in a uniform of some kind on my way somewhere.
Aerie Dreams
Friday
Immigrant nation
That part of the program, which we were calling an object was on a page in a book, as opposed to it being on a computer screen.
Now I don't know what kind of computer language it was, but objects pretty much act like objects. They get instantiated, which is a quasi religious word for what happens to a class when it becomes an object. And other stuff happens when that happens. It has memory allocated, internal things are built.
But while that was happening I was thinking about how crowded things were, how my car resembled something from the 1940's even though it was a Toyoda, and how I had a small apartment with a garage.
The country was an immigrant nation in a big way, with people from India and Hispanics making up the bulk of the population.
Although in the dream I was white, I was definitely in the minority. Not that it was a problem. I was able to make my way in the world just fine. In fact, my girl friend looked like she was of Indian descent.
Aerie Dreams
Sunday
The Morning a Friend was Shot
The dream left a bad taste in my mouth as though I had sipped something deadly. I knew the dream involved a friend of mine; a Vietnam War veteran who had been a Marine. A large man with long red hair and unkempt beard who used to sit on the steps of one of the student centers across the Boulevard from the Student Union.
I liked him a lot because he was warm, friendly and just likable. Bear like. I don’t know if he was a student or not, but he was the right age to be one.
He was like so many others that came back from Vietnam with scars that couldn’t be seen on his body, so he had a residual anger against the "Establishment" as it was called back then.
I had a bad feeling about him, and I had just had a nightmare. But I wasn’t accustomed to trusting my dreams.
I was in college at the time, and when I arrived at the Student Union I didn’t see him where he usually sat, so I tried to find out how he was and learned the grim truth. He had been shot by the police, people that he literally considered pigs. And I dreamed about it when it happened early that morning.
About that time, I remembered a dream that I had where I had managed to remove myself from my body and float out the window next to the bed. I remember feeling the sieve like character of the screen as I was passing through it.
I was turned on my left side and I had pulled myself out of my back. I was a kind of clear gelatinous balloon.
Not something I normally think of as me.
Is my friend just a clear gelatinous something now?
Aerie Dreams
Monday
An Imaginative Geo-Political Lesson
Answer: the US. Case Closed.
It then occurred to me that the same logic applies to pretty much the rest of the world: Iran, China, Pakistan?
And I had a feeling that the US could be Rome writ large with no natural enemies. Frightening concept.
Here I am pretty much a pacifist, and my country could conquer the world.
Aerie Dreams
Friday
welcome to the underworld Mr. President
I was my brother once during a visit from my schizophrenic sister as he was seeing her to a Greyhound bus to send her back to California. I was one of my nieces and caught a glimpse of the relationship between her and her father.
This was a dream of somebody I didn't know personally at all and never came into personal contact with.
There is an enormous military installation, underground, so secret it is only shown to certain Presidents. A seemingly industrial setting, and I shall have to rely on a few brief memories (from the President's mind):
Imagine a stocky Southerner in his mid 50's, short hair, a short sleeve white shirt and dark tie who exudes that special down home comfort and Christian certainty. He's leaning with his hand against a rail, utterly at ease on what looks like either a raised platform or the top of a flight of metal stairs and he is explaining some of the local capabilities to a newly elected US President like he might talk about his fishing tackle: genetic engineering from alien DNA, human-alien hybrids, anti-gravity, the list is quite extensive.
The last thing I remember is him nodding and saying in that special down home way: “We read minds, too.” Giving away the fact that he wasn't quite all human himself.
Somewhere nearby by I saw a tall very thin gentleman of ordinary northern latitude Caucasian complexion in dress blue Air Force uniform walking along without a patch of hair on his head and a hat size much too big for regular folks.
Wednesday
unfold and awaken
The Greater Being exhaled from the psyche at death.
I dreamed about my Greater Being, but it was a stamping machine in a factory pounding out lives one after the next: a fighter pilot; a Russian; Arab; Chinese, Black; Hindu; Muslim. As though it spoke a language of lives and nothing else.
As each person went by like the passing numbers of a roulette wheel I caught a glimpse into each one and some aspect of their character, time and activity.
So I have to ask, why on earth would this creator of a billion lives ever think of me?
I dream of home
Fog in the air on a sunny day as I look off to the hills in the distance.
It looks a lot like heaven, I hope I don't have to die to go there.
Aerie Dreams
Sunday
life's a beach
Monday
at the edge
But there is more to the Solar system than the planets and as the distances from the Sun get larger there's more stuff between here and there. Although it's literally colder than ice.
Think of the frozen bodies beyond Pluto that we barely or never glimpse.
Encapsulating it all is the vast spherical Oort cloud which dwarfs the little distances of the inner worlds. Its terminus which is not discreet marks the outer boundary of the solar system and lies in the neighborhood of 18 trillion miles from the sun.
I bring this up to point out that outside the Oort cloud is some considerable distance from here and we don't even think about going there today.
But that's where this dream started: on board a test vessel sitting in cramped quarters. Everything pitch black inside the ship. I dreamed I was one of three pilots busily preparing to see how fast it could go.
We commenced movement and I did not feel any inertial tug or gravitational force inside the craft we felt like we were sitting still. We clocked our speed in terms of percent of speed of light, moving in the single digits: then 10 percent; then a quarter of the speed of light.
As the test ended I recall that we had reached half the speed of light; and I don't have a clue how far we had gone or in what direction.
Saturday
a different kind of moon
I am the only person walking down a sidewalk beside rows of parked cars. The streets seem abandoned and I pull my long tweed coat closer against the cold.
When I look up into the night sky there is a bright blue world the color of a gas flame surrounded by a deep blue corona where I expect to see the moon. Uranus, perhaps?
I look across the lawn at a large brick building. It groans as it begins to lose it's grip on it's foundation. It pauses a moment as if taking stock and begins to slowly rise.
Other things begin to lose their mooring as the great world above us swings by in orbit - rocks, cars - the earth itself and I desperate and clinging to a tree feel myself falling in the direction of the sky.
Wednesday
blue and cloudy face
I was rising up in a defense vessel large enough to hold three men. We rendezvoused with other vessels perhaps a quarter of the distance between the earth and the moon; also valuable real estate.
When we reached our parking position somewhat close to the rear of our fleet we could see ships in the distance that didn’t look like ours. These other ships were arrayed before us aligned in a Cartesian pattern holding their position. It reminded me of two ancient phalanxes of hoplites facing each other on a plain.
The ships were a bit like the shields the hoplites used except that they were rounded on both sides. They were a perfect flattened spheres with no sharp edges except for the edge of the shield. There were no bumps or lines any kind on their perfect skin. You could make out constellations reflected in their mirrored surface, above or below.
We waited for what seemed an interminable amount of time; there seemed to be too many ships for them to have a peaceful purpose.
The defense forces of the world were hastily gathered and in position in front of the intruders. We held our collective breath, and below us the world waited to discover our collective fate.
A grid made of light beams was emitted from beneath those perfectly mirrored hulls and formed a floor under every ship present. It resembled netting, or chain link fence. You could imagine someone walking on it.
Orange figures emerged through the hulls of the ships; in the distance they looked human, but as they worked their way through the fleet you could see how strange they looked. They seemed to glow a dull orange. They resembled humans like some cartoon drawing, capturing the overall size and shape but getting the detail wrong. No fingers, the head more a bullet shaped protuberance with vertical lines placed on the head and torso for aesthetic appeal; a caricature of us.
They worked their way from ship to ship in our line, and we could see them enter the ships in the rank before us; simply walking through the hull of each of our craft in an unhurried and businesslike manner.
Although we were seeing what was going on around our ship on the outside, we were frozen when several emerged through the walls into our little craft. They methodically began murdering us with a hatchet shaped weapon.
My thought was that this was an awfully primitive way to be attacked by such a sophisticated enemy. When it was my turn he hit me in the chest and I went down; but just before I lost consciousness, I looked to see what his face looked like and was surprised to see that he didn’t have one; he was featureless.
This dream began with the discovery of intelligent life on a planet orbiting a deeply orange star – an enormous distance away that the human government decided to contact. A contact vessel was sent which did not return.
The war ensued.
We had neither defense nor offense, as we could not penetrate their perimeter the way they repeatedly penetrated ours. We destroyed much of our military trying.
We had no understanding of these creatures in fact we never actually saw them; and they evidenced superior technology.
The dream continued into a delightful summer vacation setting that could have been Hawaii, Florida or one of the coastal states because you could see the ocean or the bay from the kitchen window.
It was a sunny morning and I had just finished breakfast at the kitchen table and was beginning to read the newspaper with a friend.
There were enormous explosions in the water outside our window rising up in black clouds unbelievably high.
We ran out the door and tried to outrun any blast that might come from the direction of the sea and tried to get behind a large square fountain that had low walls.
This was an unending nightmare and it went on to somewhere in the Midwest where I was hurrying to a meeting.
The view from the hilltop where I stood looking down the bend in the river was as peaceful and bucolic as any that I had seen except for the perfect shape that swung side to side and seemed to meander lazily up the river towards me passing trees almost to take in the view on such a beautiful summer’s day.
It stopped.
About a hundred yards off the side of the river was a low white building. It was our civil defense headquarters and my destination. I was late.
The shape hanging over the river was about 30 yards across and mirrored so you could see the green of the underbrush and trees in its reflection. I marveled at such a triumph of engineering.
It began to move towards the building. I was awe struck and horrified by it; I had never seen one before. It floated above the building, perhaps a couple of hundred feet.
I thought I heard a soft buzzing sound as it began to emit some form of invisible radiation directly down onto the building below. Although I couldn't see the radiation I could see the distortion in the air underneath the full belly of the craft, as though it were radiating some kind of heat from all the way across its bottom. And I knew that everyone in that office building was dead.
I had a sense of a war going on that we were not winning. I felt bitter that we had contacted these creatures. Somehow it was our fault.
We never saw them or knew who they were. They were the ultimate enigma.
I saw human ships exploring deeper into space; moving at high speed. A black ship arcing up into the distant stars.
The next scene was a planet orbiting a distant sun that had life on it.
I was walking with others along a row of kind of hedge or tree that grew to perhaps sixty feet in the air and was in uniform cultivated rows. It strongly resembled vegetation from earth. The planet was covered in this growth which was the only form of life on the planet and there were signs of harvesting.
It was not the only planet with such life.
This was a main source of raw material for the alien civilization that we were fighting. And locating these planets and putting them out of business became our offensive activity.
Tuesday
lighter than air
This only works if it’s Mars or some other small planet on a nice summer’s day; which at the moment is impossible. The odd thing to me is that over several decades I’ve dreamed about a world that, for the physics to work, has to have less gravity than the earth today.
early space dreams and mars
Many of these dreams are horrifying or depressing. The series of dreams about the Terra forming of Mars: dream after dream I was planting small pine trees into the red earth. The air was barely breathable, we worked in crews of a half dozen or less, and there were puddles of alkaline water on the surface. One of my crew members had died, but he had fallen into one of those puddles and his clothes weren’t salvageable. It was cold, and we lived in little shacks.
We expected that our work would never be done and that we would die doing this.
But then later, I was a little girl running joyfully through the tall grass on the finished world looking up at a clear blue sky.
The story the child learned was that only the good plants had been moved from Earth by suitably august scientists.
Mars had been transformed into a heavenly place well worth the many lives that I had spent living and dying on it's surface to build it.
Many of the dreams take place in space either close to the earth or way out there. Some future dreams are on the earth or moon.
ritual in a lava tube
Hawaii was different. It felt different, and reminded me of summers back where I grew up. It made me so comfortable I was almost homesick. I went there several times, once for work and a couple of times for vacation. It was a cheap plane ticket from San Francisco, certainly compared to what it would cost from the middle of the country.
On the business trip I met someone who was interested in native Hawaiian culture. I was interested in their mysticism and my first night there I had a dream that took me to a lava tube cave (and I didn’t know they existed at the time) that I got to by swimming under water. The lava rock had been cut by hand tools so that there were seats on the side of the tube and I was initiated in some kind of ritual. I felt Kundalini flow up my spine.
I talked to my friend about the strange cave that I had been in and thought that Hawaii had not been around long enough to have caves and he told me about the lava tubes; the other aspects of my dream turned out to have real life counterparts as well. The tubes were used by native Hawaiians for religious rituals. They were accessed by swimming under water.
After that point whenever I visited Hawaii I would dream about a cave where I would meet with a young woman and have a kind of spiritual encounter. Well, OK a sexual encounter.
a warehouse for the disembodied
Altogether the place was gray, and shades of gray, and there were people, after a fashion.
This place was perfectly peaceful, I wouldn't be surprised to come across a dead person's soul here.
If you saw someone in the distance you might see the outline of a person but if you got closer you would see that they were more folds in the spacial fabric of the place, and not the shape of people, but there would be an odd one or two that would almost appear human. Most weren't recognizable as people until you were up close and could see their faces in their thoughts.
I met someone I knew to be among the living and knew that she had some exciting news for me because as with people in the world, excitement glows with it's own light.
If she could have she would have told me she was my new boss.
There seemed to be the occasional structure, but nothing planned unless you could call a bathtub and a brick wall someone's design project.
dropping stone
The room on the airship had been large, much like a large meeting room; auditorium or hangar deck. I remember walking around a bit, checking my uniform and talking to people before informally expediting the take-off. I was excited, and eventually went back to my seat and looked across the room through a mirror at myself. The uniform I had on was summer weight and was a military uniform although not like any I know of. I didn't notice any rank insignia; maybe I was of such a low rank I didn’t merit any. As I looked closer at my young and somewhat Asian face my hands went back to my extremely long hair and held it up: it was about three feet long and was blond for a swath that started just above the above my head to about six inches from the end; but otherwise was nut brown: my natural color.
But back to that free fall: there I was looking down at a firefight of sorts with aircraft that had design features from propeller driven aircraft about Vietnam War vintage, except that the main wings were unusually short and ended in rectangular box like structures out of which came the thrust that moved the aircraft forward. I did not see any propellers; just the boxes where they would be. I wondered how they could stay airborne. All the aircraft were designed this way.
It was quite a vista with clouds seen from above, a couple of aircraft with guns out and active below me; and of coarse the green of fields and jungle or forest below. And the occasional object flying at me; one of which I recognized as resembling an old sidewinder heat seeking missile. Other things flew at me which I gratefully avoided.
a look in the rear view mirror from some distance
Layer after layer of civilization, overlay the space that is now the US and I was shocked at how quickly my age was submerged in history. Unexpectedly, we're gone in not that many centuries. It was uncomfortable for me that we were gone so fast and that no one remembered us.
In several thousand years a small group of Hasidim on a side street in one of the burrows of New York City believed that Manhattan was given to them by God; AK47's out and at the ready. Dressed in today's classic gray business suit and dark hat, they were taking their City back.
Is it true that the more things change, the more they stay the same?
Going to an embarkation point for a journey to Europe, I traveled down a broad avenue past the ruins of a contemporary business park, overgrown with palm trees and jungle vegetation. As old as Babylon, or some Inca ruin and just as dead. This was just few years ago, and the dream forecast the collapse of our business civilization.
I flew across the sky from the extreme South West to the South East arcing from Southern California through the upper Midwest, I saw the deserts of the West growing and expanding to meet the deserts of the South East. The upper Midwest was still fertile and green and the green extended north.
learn a little Japanese
In our waking world there is only a small Japanese presence in the "Japan Town" area - where there is something of a Japanese cultural presence. In the dream Japan was truly a great power with a colonial like presence on the West Coast of the United States.
I had a meeting with a Russian spy who showed me his paperback book about the life of Jack E. Robinson after about ten minutes of small talk, we exchanged information about the Japanese. The Russians were our partners but the Japanese were somehow not. He gave me a rather large folder of information about them. And I was out of the building walking in the California Sun.
Downtown San Francisco seemed more like New York or Chicago because the buildings seemed so much larger and more substantial. The block size was bigger and the hills weren't as prominent. It wasn't exactly the City I know and love.
a vision of life in a box
My scientific world view simply crumbled as I saw it was composed of fluff. And airy fluff at that.
The next thing I understood was that the me focused on the world was not all of me or even a significant part of Me. Behind me was something infinitely faster and more comprehending. In a moment I stepped back from myself and beheld the difference between the two. Although I could feel that I was both.
Are we just small creations of our greater selves held deep in the river of life because for one reason or another our greater self wishes it?
I wonder sometimes if I'm not just living submerged here and dreaming.
Imagine for a moment a sealed cavernous gray cell then think about a rhinoceros sized tear-drop shaped electrical cloud slithering energetically around the floor. Looking up at the ceiling and walls with an utter calm.
Weird, isn't it?
I had been dreaming, and the dream abruptly ended. There I was at rest on the floor of this gray box, a roiling blob of vibrating blue gossamer energy. It was strangely peaceful although I was very aware of the drone and power of my vibration. I stayed there momentarily observing the walls, comfortable and content until I decided to create a new dream, and put my cat and all my friends in it.
I powered up, felt my drone strengthen like the rumble of a jet lifting off, and exploded to fill the space; and there I was, me in the new dream, creating the world exactly as I wanted it.
Until I woke to this life.
civilization above the clouds
I dreamed that I was participating in organizing the logistics for the move from low earth orbit to the asteroid belt. At the time I was also dreaming that I could look up into the sky and see what people were living in, sometimes I was looking down from those structures.
In context with other dreams, the moon is settled by then, and Mars as well.
When I dreamed about a field trip to the moon the person giving the tour as we stepped out onto the surface said that much of the (unbreathable) atmosphere came from regolith processing. Why regolith processing?
Back then there was no good reason that I knew of to invest in the moon, and there was nothing valuable in lunar regolith, but now we know that it has fuel for fusion reactors in quantity.
I would imagine that there will be a reason to move to the asteroid belt when the time comes, but we may have to wait a few centuries to find it out.
dreams near the bay
Imagine a corporate party. Drinks, pastries and a crowd of people on the top floor on one of the taller buildings in downtown San Francisco. The building starts to sway as an earthquake begins. It sways further, back and forth, almost enough to make you sea sick, and we're all expecting it to stop since earth quakes only last a few moments, but this continues. With each sway the building swings further over, and then comes back. I hold my cold mixed drink in my hand and look out the window as the building sways so much that the furniture starts to slide towards me. It doesn't stop, and I hear screams as the building continues on that last sway and begins to collapse.
In one of my first dreams I was merely crushed when an old house collapsed on top of me in an earthquake.
A series of dreams had to do with an "end of the world" scenario where the area had been wiped out in some watery disaster. Tidal waves, land sinking etc. I lived on the beach in a tent for a while. I couldn't find my wife and I lived with some woman I had met after the deluge. We had a child. There were some permanent large public buildings that had survived that were being used for public restrooms and I don't know what else. And then later communities were being built on hilltops because the low lying areas were flooded.
One of my favorite self terminating experiences took place in a modern city on the West Coast, although I wasn't sure which one (and it could happen to any of them). I was in a downtown area, and off in the distance was a wall of water about 40 stories tall crashing through the spaces between the skyscrapers. I was running, looking for a place to get out of the way as it got closer and closer.
It all seemed to wear off after I left.
a futon
But I had had a very bad day - mostly my horrible boss, and I was questioning my presence in California.
I have the unfortunate habit of talking to God, although I'm not a religious person. Basically I claim to be an Atheist.
On that particular evening I was doing more than just talking, I was deeply regretting coming to California. I wasn't blaming God, I was just registering my discontent with my situation. I was bitter.
Before I went to sleep I said I wanted to go back home.
Just before morning I was visited by a very bright light, that hung like a sun the size of a basketball in front of me as I sat bolt upright cross legged on the futon.
As it said that it had brought me to California to broaden my horizons it showed me images of my future in California, and the kinds of work situations and technological environments I would be in. It lifted my spirits so that I could go to work the next day.
just fishing
Once upon a time I dreamed that I was fishing in a remote area. The brown grass, dry vegetation, trees and what I can only call twiggy underbrush seemed to surround me at I moved from the boat which I tied up at the small wooden pier to my old faded green pickup truck, the likes of which seem to be on every California road.
As I started to get into the truck my perspective changed and I moved up towards the sky still looking down at me and the truck, and as I got higher I could see the surrounding hills and part of the water I had been on. There didn't seem to be a lot of people around, and further up I began to see that I was at the extreme north end of the water, and that it was an inland lake or bay that covered the entire floor of the Central Valley extending into Southern California.
Athena
I had purchased a book by a French author: Nicole Loraux as translated by Caroline Levine called The Children of Athena. It talks about the ancient Athenians as children of Athena because their creation myth involves the unrequited sperm of a god, Hephaistos dripping off Athena's leg into the fertile earth from which sprang the Athenian race. For those interested the technical term is: autochthony; the first born Athenian was Erichthonios.
I couldn't pronounce it either.
At any rate, after purchasing this book (not because of the naked women on the cover), I had what you might call certain worshipful thoughts about Athena, for whom I have always had a certain lustful affection.
I envied Odysseus's relationship with Her: Brilliance, so seductively close.
I dreamed I was in an agricultural country in ancient times. In the distance, men were harvesting a crop in the grain fields. I stood before the Palace of the Queen, ancient, stone and marble construction and I was escorted by an older woman into a small room to wait.
A short while later a very young blond girl walked into the room and began dancing, not really paying attention to me. She wore only a sheer white cape that fell from around her throat almost to the floor.
It is deliciously entertaining that the book explained that the Goddess conducts "personal" relationships with those she favors with visitations as a young girl.
I wonder if she visited Odysseus that way.
die quietly
A death long in coming, fits and starts, avoided, contained and then blossoming forth: ominous and cruel.
I did not know he would die that day at that time of his brain tumor and I didn't know him well but I saw who was there.
I could not stay awake on a Saturday afternoon at 4:00. When I fell asleep I experienced his death personally. It was dramatic and horrifying. Death personified striding though the streets towards me a giant Red Devil with Horns. My friends took on cartoon like faces as the world became eerily misty and pale.
The walls of the apartment fell away into spacious white air and I was gone.
ridge line
I think I was female in this dream. And pretty much bald, just a peach fuzz for hair.
My ridge grew down the center of the top of my head and came in nicely. Imagine, a fleshy, cartilaginous crest right where a Mohawk would be, although narrower and covered with skin.
As time went by, and as the ridge grew my ability to converse with people mentally got better and I engaged in such conversations when people were visiting. People with fully grown ridges.
u3C
wonderful life
I remember looking out over the bay while sitting at a picnic table at Point Pinole in the North Bay. I was reading “The After Death Diary of an American Philosopher”. It was ironic that the philosopher in question, who had quite a tale to tell in the book, had been an empiricist, or perhaps pragmatist publicly certain of the concrete nature of material life. But then the book wasn't really written by him, but someone who was "channeling" him. Thus the appellation "after death".
He made the after death state seem like a veritable heaven; sans body, of course. The mind not entirely alone in the void can be such a wonderful thing; perhaps that is why we develop one. We have other talents than while alive. He was thankful for his seat on the balcony, able to overlook the stage upon which life is cast (his words more or less). Although I imagine that if he sits there long enough he will not be able to relate to what goes on below.
I like a good book, of course; and at least the possibility of enjoying it with a bit of coffee or if I were younger, a smoke. But I am afraid that these things, the things I enjoy entail a certain amount of physical life. And that may be the one thing that's missing when we "pass over" as the phrase is. I may have as much of a jaundiced view of that life as I have of this.
I would think, just speculating here that fantasies or a dreamy sort of after death reverie might be possible. For the simple reason that there is no body that has to get up and go to the bathroom in the commercial break.
Being alive, I suffer from not knowing, only being able to read about such things.
I have it from a variety of authors that the purpose of life lies somewhere in the living, although that can be challenging at times. I almost think that the living self doesn’t know what the dead self is doing.
Perhaps the living and the dead lead very different lives and there is no way to understand that from this no matter how many books you read.
One idea that gives this life more merit than it generally receives is that it is an artistic creation of something larger than the individual living it. That it is an idea that has been born into materiality and is able to consider and reflect and talk back to it's creator.
I do plenty of that. And oddly, I know my creator hears me because sometimes she complains.
So if I am her object of art, perhaps she looks at me with a bit of a jaundiced eye?
a working chill
letting an old friend go
There is a vast war, and defeat and in the dream I am the commander in charge of the defeated, sending out a rear guard suicide mission. Delay the enemy while the main fleet is able to make good a retreat, although I don't know to where, or if there is a place to retreat to.
The commander of the rear guard action is a Chinese man in his thirties, and I talk with him before I send him to his death. I've served with him over the years and I know him well. I put my arm around his shoulders and I know both the necessity of what I am doing and the sadness of letting an old friend go.
The number of ships that I command are in the thousands, and the rear guard action involves hundreds.
desire
But there is a conflict between healthy ambitious desire and the desire for spiritual completion.
I say this is so because some spiritual disciplines talk about killing desire; that we are victims of desire. And certain Christian sects have had some very strange ideas about sexual desires.
The two major spiritual forces that washed up in the US from the East seem to have this conflict about desire. On the one had you have Hinduism and then you have Buddhism. Given their common roots, I view them as two branches of one tree although Hindu’s have at least one God at the top of the hierarchy and the Buddhists have air way up there; which is appropriate given that the flame of desire is to be blown out.
So at the upper end, these two spiritual paths lead off in different directions - but they both talk about enlightenment although when they do I'm sure they mean different things. They both also talk about desire in complex and sometimes disparaging ways. But everyone understands desire, so they must be talking about the same thing. You could come away confused about which way to go but thinking that desire is the devil's doing, to borrow a Christian phrase. This dislike of desire seems to be a main point of agreement, perhaps universally so.
Although to be fair, I have to say that the Tantric School of Yoga provides an interesting spin on certain aspects of sexual desire.
I feel uncomfortable, although merely human, with all this discomfort with what I now think of as the center of life. Almost the whole point of life and the one thing that moves us forward and from one experience to another. To desire is to be human in a participatory sense, and I feel it is unfortunate to be beckoned into a life without that. Which is probably why I left those two religions.
Now I believe that desire can also be thought of as formerly forbidden fruit bringing forth such amusing pleasure that it utterly seduces the soul into loving itself and enjoying it's glorious pastimes. To be merely human is a wonderful and glorious thing; vastly underrated.
enter the Master
The paradigm is: I pray to God, God comes to me.
Spiritually speaking, there are those of us who feel this way and traditionalists who believe that you only get to the source through a Master. In a sense you could look at the whole Catholic Church as a Cult for Christ, with Jesus as the Master and all the trailing souls coming to God through Him.
In the West the idea of individuals being divine is a Pagan idea. It predates Christianity. And if you think about it for a minute: here were all these Pagans, no longer worshiping Jupiter, now worshiping Jehovah. I wonder sometimes if there is really any difference.
When I walk into a Catholic Church, and sense the age of the architecture I wallow in it's Romanness. Because the Church was a creature of Rome, Imperial Rome and the Emperor. Did he think it was a new face on a Pagan world?
No self respecting modern Christian would for a moment think that anyone but Christ or a saint is able to be anything other than an ordinary human being. With all the faults and supposed faults that that entails.
We are uniquely Christian with a European Pagan heritage and only certain very ancient people are of God. And we have believed this from what seems to us the beginning of time.
So it is rather difficult for someone (like me) from a more or less Christian background to walk right into Hindu mysticism without balking just a bit.
Like most people I grew up in the stew of Scientific Rationalism and a local Church that was contemporary with my time.
Thus although some of the practices of Yoga, and Hindu mysticism are interesting and useful, that panoply of Gods, and Goddesses is largely ignored. I shall have the hors d'oeuvres and leave the main meal go. Which might be unsatisfying to the Hindu Teacher.
Well, I suspect that religion does not translate well.
But the key thing about the Yoga & the Hinduism that I became involved with was that in order to progress on the path you had to in some sense latch your soul onto the Master's. As a concept this did not translate well with me.
I find it perverse to call someone a Master. But then perhaps I will be chained to the wheel of life forever for the simple benefit of faith.
splash into the pool
Within a month I was having my appendix removed via laparoscopic surgery and a little surgical device, I was told afterward, jutted out of my abdomen for one of the incisions.
Last night I dreamed I was in a locker room which opened through a wide entryway onto a swimming pool. It was busy. People seemed to be coming and jumping into the pool some with their clothing on ignoring the lockers – I saw suits, uniforms and other outfits although other people seemed unclothed.
I couldn’t bring myself to wear my clothing into it, so I stripped down to my under shorts and jumped in. The water wasn't soapy but it was milky white. The pool itself and the room it was in was in shadow with no lights above, on the walls or in the water . The light came from the door that I had come in and the entryway on the far side of the pool.
The pool room and entryways were tiled in white bathroom tile and there were fully clothed people waiting and milling around on the much larger floor space on the side opposite the one I had come in, as if they were waiting for people.
People were piling in on the side I had entered and hurrying across it, sloshing and wading. Although the locker room had not seemed busy, when I looked back towards the entrance a lot of people were moving through. All the traffic was moving in one direction.
The pool wasn’t very deep, maybe a couple of feet, but I felt naked and wished I had brought some swimming shorts. I sloshed around for a while thinking the water was for washing and I could get clean in there. Not even thinking about it I made my way to the other side; keeping my shorts under the water. I seemed to be the only one taking my time.
Feeling embarrassed, I reached the other side too ashamed to stand, so I crawled up the steps and found myself lying on my back looking up at the people milling around.
A sheet must have been put over me from the neck down, because I no longer felt undressed. A pair of swimming trunks appeared miraculously within easy reach. I was about to put them on when I looked up and saw several young women directly in front of me sitting on those fold away metal chairs so common in church basement meeting rooms and talking to each other. They didn't seem to be paying attention to me, but I felt too embarrassed to get up and try to put the trunks on because it would demonstrate how naked I was under the sheet.
One of the women directly in front of me was a stunning short haired blond, in a black dress that came to her knees. I had never seen her before and I wondered who she was. The other people seemed dressed up too.
There was a separation between a couple of the chairs in front, as though there was an aisle down the middle of a large room full of chairs. I was in front of the first row and in the middle; with my feet in the direction of the aisle. I seemed to be lower than everyone there.
The scene had shifted without my noticing and I was no longer at the pool. when I looked up at these women, it seemed as though something was about to begin, but I couldn’t figure out what.
After waking up from this dream I had the eerie feeling that it was for me, and that I would be dying soon. Within a couple of days I had a dream where someone explained to me some of the things that will be happening in the near and distant future, so I can rest easy that I will be around for a while.
I had thought that this was a "gateway" to the afterworld kind of dream, and I know that I have had at least several of them, and sometimes I knew who.
The water was reminiscent of the river Styx and had to be crossed to meet the waiting people on the other side. The darkness and shadow lying between universes of light.
I can't help thinking that the final scene was of a funeral with me playing the guest of honor. But it wasn't me, it was just another serious silly dream; unless of coarse someone I know died, and I just don't know who.
lunar train ride
It was as sunny as your wildest dreams of southern California, and the houses were just as bland looking. But it was a real city: flat roofed houses with few very dark windows placed high and very small. I wondered a bit about the lack of atmosphere.
My wife and I were were talking about moving there.
The question came up about air since there was no air outside, but air inside your house is a utility, like cooking gas, metered.
I was excited, I wanted to move there and we were basically making plans to do that. Although I didn't know the size of the city, it seemed to me to have been there a while. If you were to take a BART ride around the Bay Area you might get a feeling for what it was like. Or at least what the view was like. Although the train was nicer than a BART train car.
Another strange after image of the dream was my question: was the world a kind of Utopian dream?
No, it was a triumph of our economic system.
I try out with the meet and greet crew
A very good looking actor had died, and a cabin somewhere in the "mountains" had been created for him and he was being brought in through the front door. He was dressed in casual, although dressy slacks and a plaid flannel shirt with a lot of red in it. He was helped to sit on the couch.
He looked a lot younger than he did in real life.
I have a feeling that he wasn't used to moving in his last days because he had to be helped so much. Maybe he was just dazed. There were about four of us involved and the woman to my left, dressed in a casual tweed sport coat and white frilly blouse was giving the orders. I was the trainee and not close to the center of what was going on.
She gave the order: "Take his clothes off", and I said, rather socratically: "Is that moral?".
Considering the gentleman's sexual preferences, he may have been more comfortable naked or in pajamas. Or with a friend. It would not have been an issue for him.
She looked at me, I looked at her and I was abruptly gone.
have you ever left?
The whole of meditation is learning to focus and then doing it for long periods of time, and if you speak to Yogi’s they will tell you (or at least told me) that what really matters is through which chakra you exit from on when you leave your body. Any will do depending on your interests but up top is better.
Personally I would be surprised if paperback techniques worked for this kind of thing, but there was an interesting book by someone who “fell into” or rather out of and gave a very gripping description of the process.
He’s dead now, but his students or some of the more adept of them have seen him actively engaged in some educational activity or other in one of the places that the physically unencumbered populate. The departed have much to educate themselves about, or so it seems,
There are several reasons that I found him convincing, probably the first of which is that his “process” resembled an exercise in Kundalini activity. With my hapless Yogic background, that meant something to me.
I have never been able to knowingly and consciously leave my body, although I have had at least a couple of dreams that seemed to indicate a bit about the process.
The first took place when I was very young, perhaps 20 years old. I was living at my father’s and after I fell asleep I felt myself pulling myself out of the back of my physical body which lay on its side. I was conscious of my clear shapeless gelatinous nature as I exited and then went out the window. I felt myself as I strained through the screen on the window as a vivid dream scape opened up which I entered of which I have no memory once I moved into it.
The other memorable dream happened perhaps several years later after I was married (and before I was divorced) after my father’s death where I found myself in a garden and saw my father. Although he had the physical shape that he had had in life, he too was utterly clear, as though he were made of some clear gelatinous nature that was shaped to his former body.
There are people who claim to do this consciously, enlightened masters of course; and the occasional Joe who simply gets out. Lucky them.
he was a real person and he never said
He was engaging with a sense of humor. His only activity was talking to people who, after an afternoon with him remembered him.
It wasn't a very long film: he died penniless with nothing in the picture about a crucifixion; he was buried by the History Guild. A couple of centuries later his life was reinvented in stories that made him seem super-human and suitable as an object of worship.
But I don't think he would have deigned to be called a God.
Some people think the act of worship is the highest form of flattery, but to someone who has a deep sense and faith in the dignity of man it is an act of self abnegation and something abusive of one of the most precious gifts given to man.
deep royal blue
Because of an inability to see in the spectrum we consider normal, they had trouble distinguishing between us and them. The heat signature was about the same; the shape size and all except for skin and some details such as a lack of body hair, ears, nose and some differences in head shape we were almost indistinguishable.
But a human would know.
They were a little darker than royal blue; with almost an alligator like pattern to their snake like skin.
There was a human resistance; but the blue snake skin creatures actually employed guard dogs of a sort. Humans trained to detect humans.
I often wonder at the evolutionary twists and turns that made him bleach white
I don't remember a thing he said, but we seemed to converse for quite a while. Me in my long brown and multi-striped terry-cloth bathrobe feeling like my brain just wasn't big enough to compete with his.
rejected by the Heavenly Hostess
Later I went to bed and I felt horrible. I wanted to vomit but couldn't. A cold feeling was slowly creeping up my spine.
I managed to drift off to fitful sleep and towards morning I was a sky blue blob of light rocketing out into space and as I looked back at earth over my proverbial shoulder I said to my self: “that life is over”. I was as dead, and it didn't seem terribly upsetting to me; I just wanted to get moving to my next appointment.
As I sped away, I saw a blue light in the distance that seemed to have a woman's outline; just the outline, nothing else substantial. Perhaps someone I knew? She came closer, and as I joyfully joined her and we touched, I woke up.
Or came out of it. Much like out of anesthesia. No intermission between night sky flying and abrupt daylight, the hotel room, my headache. My chest hurt.
I felt as though I had been put back to a not very welcoming body. I had been rejected by the Heavenly Hostess?
she's my supervisor?
We don't really have much of a relationship, she's more like a boss. When I'm stuck in a rut she tells me to get moving, and from time to time she drops in to give me direction.
I suspect she has some responsibility for me, and since I frequently complain or do things that are not in my best interest she sends me a picture or does something that has an impact on me.
I will pay attention when sufficiently embarrassed.
I think she got fed up with my complaints a few years ago because she sent me a picture that absolutely humiliated me into stuffing it. I won't go into the details.
She's also responsible for me treating my cat better.
She appeared human in my earlier dreams, but more recently she's just been a focus of deep blue light, darker around the outside and a little lighter in the middle.
I had a very bad night a few years ago, and she rushed to my aid and and literally put me back in my body as I was drifting up into the void.
She seems to respond rather perfunctorily. When the communication is verbal, the words take shape in my mind which is a little strange. I have however heard her supporting whispers when I have fallen into utter despair and she does have a sense of humor.
a retrospective on peculiar dreams
At one time I was an enthusiast for living in space, but aside from reading a little about Lagrange points, I didn't know very much about it.
Why would anyone want to live above the sky?
I would imagine my interest in the topic was the impetus for the dreams.
Space stations, aliens, and nasty aliens have been in my dreams for quite some time.
Although contact with some aliens was neutral. For example, there is an instance where an alien ship has crashed, and I dreamed I was one of the contemporary scientists trying to communicate with it. I remember interviewing it in the open air, we didn't know what to feed him so we gave him graham crackers soaked in milk. He seemed like a he.
We were able to converse, and he was quite critical of the human race, although I don't remember the details. He was quite large, as though a great bald fat man with a rough orange hide were sitting comfortably in the shade.
I wasn't aware of his ultimate disposition.
I find it strange that my dreams are as detailed and seemingly correct in their interpretation of what living on the moon and in space would be like.
On what was a ride on a light rail system over an urban landscape, it seemed much like a ride on the BART on a sunny day. Except that the houses were constructed differently specifically not to admit much sunlight.
In the dream my mind was on the fact that air was a utility that had to be piped to the house like cooking gas.
The sun was much brighter than I had imagined it could be. Sunlight on the moon is not conditioned and filtered as sunlight is on earth. More than a sunburns' worth of radiation.
On the train ride I did not look up to see the sky, but the landscape was so bright and interesting that I kept my eye on that. On a sunny day (every "day") the moon is extremely bright, I was actually shocked by it when I woke up. I had for some unknown reason not expected such light on the lunar surface.
I had two dreams about the moon, and I'm not sure which came first because the second one (the one with the train) seemed to have no atmosphere. And the first one had a heavy gas atmosphere which included xenon.
Who said dreams are sensible?
The "space stations" looked much more practical than the ones you see either on TV or in science fiction movies, or the ones I read about in grade school. Imagine a core tubular geodesic framework with large pods hung off it at intervals, and the whole thing rotated for gravity. Want to add more living space, extend the core geodesic and add some more pods.
The real evaluation can only take place as the centuries click by, unless things move much faster than I can imagine which is very possible.
u3C
field trip
When I thought of Mars, I thought of a place that was like a high altitude region of Earth. Thin atmosphere, like living in Denver; red earth and mountains.
I imagined the steep red mountains. clouds and dark blue sky of Mars.
I was inside an area of a large building that looked, if not industrial then public or institutional. The walls were concrete, as was the floor and painted white. The floor was an institutional gray. There was a metal stairway. I and some others were shown into an air lock, and given little air masks and small canisters of air. We were told not to breathe the air outside.
We had a question and answer session and we asked about the atmosphere, where it came from and what it had in it. It had some oxygen but was unbreathable. There was some Xenon in it. It was largely heavy gasses - so it would stay on the moon.
It would be chilly outside, I was wearing a light red windbreaker. The clothing was just like the stuff we wear today.
The door/airlock was large, oval shaped and looked heavy.
It was night, and we stepped out on a flat gray surface and walked around. I looked up at the stars and noticed that the sky was black and the stars shone steadily. It was a little discomforting and I decided right there that Mars would suite me better. At least it had a blue sky.
a Muslim world
The teacher was wearing the kind of priests collar, long sleeve, black formal attire that you might have found back in the middle ages. They were using books and the students were in robes. Their world was Muslim, and the entire place resembled the Middle East in topography. They were talking about the West in an historical sense and it's importance to them. How the West had been God's instrument in moving humankind, them and those who worshiped Allah off the world and onto this other world. This immense world.
And then the picture shifted, and I moved out into space to see the world they were on and it didn't resemble the world at all, but a large asteroid that was about the thickness of the Earth. Largely knobby and smooth like a pebble that had been lying on a riverbed. An odd shaped world circling an immense star that had a carrying capacity much greater than Earths.
deeply symbolic but Freudian slip
My wife and I had entered the room and abruptly we undressed and began to make love on the floor; which is all very well. And a little strange, given our past habits. Somewhere between the time that she undressed and my eyes moved down her body after she was lying down she was transformed: the first thing I noticed was that her skin was gray, and she didn’t have an ounce of fat on her freshly changed body.
As I began to make love to her, I noticed the difference in shape; the difference in breasts. I was being “oh so clinical” as I moved my lips up and down this almost human form.
In my defense, I do have to say she had been my wife just a moment ago, and now she looked like a product of one of those alien hybrid breeding programs you hear so much about if you have peculiar tastes in literature. I noted the differences in physiology , and wondered if I was using appropriate technique.
Anyway this whole episode was interrupted by the woman at the door looking through the glass; her nurse’s cap on her head and the shade raised. My wife and I seemed both to have a moment of embarrassment and the only half human woman that I had been with moments before was vanished.
We were fully clothed.
a rape in space
There was a regulation that the hatch could not be locked. If someone can't get in they can die. It is a house in vacuum and like a ship on the open sea must bring on board those who are adrift.
Dwellings such as this hang off of a geodesic set of struts roughly cylindrical in outline which spins to create gravity.
One of the odd things about this dream was how uncomplicated and practicle the design looked compared to what I had seen on televion and in movies.
I was a cop investigating a rape, talking to the victim afterwards. She looked beanpole thin, but strong. Wearing a turtle neck brown body suit that looked utilitarian and comfortable. She had the option of having an abortion legally but she refused it. Principled.
I suited up and went outside to look around but couldn't see anything. The suit wasn't quite what I imagined, although it was white. It almost had a stove pipe faceplate so I could see things in the distance.
Thursday
the orange men cometh
I was rising up in a defense vessel large enough to hold three men. We rendezvoused with other vessels perhaps a quarter of the distance between the earth and the moon; also valuable real estate.
When we reached our parking position somewhat close to the rear of our fleet we could see ships in the distance that didn’t look like ours. These other ships were arrayed before us aligned in a Cartesian pattern holding their position. It reminded me of two ancient phalanxes of hoplites facing each other on a plain.
The opposing ships reminded me of the round shields the hoplites used. They were a perfect flattened sphere shape with no sharp edges except for the edge of the shield. There were no bumps or lines any kind on their perfect skin. You could make out constellations reflected in their mirrored surface.
We waited for what seemed an interminable amount of time; there seemed to be too many ships for them to have a peaceful purpose.
The defense forces of the world were hastily gathered and in position in front of the intruders. We held our collective breath, and below us the world waited to discover our collective fate.
A grid made of light beams was emitted from beneath those perfectly mirrored hulls and formed a floor under every ship present. It resembled netting, or chain link fence. You could imagine someone walking on it.
Orange figures emerged through the hulls of the ships; in the distance they looked human, but as they worked their way through the fleet you could see how strange they looked. They seemed to glow a dull orange. They resembled humans like some cartoon drawing, capturing the overall size and shape but getting the detail wrong. No fingers, the head more a bullet shaped protuberance with vertical lines placed on the head and torso for esthetic appeal; a caricature of us.
They worked their way from ship to ship in our line, and we could see them enter the ships in the rank before us; simply walking through the hull of each of our craft in an unhurried and businesslike manner.
Although we were seeing what was going on around our ship on the outside, we were frozen when one emerged through the wall into our little craft. It methodically began murdering us with a hatchet shaped weapon.
My thought was that this was awfully primitive way to be attacked by such a sophisticated enemy. When it was my turn he hit me in the chest and I went down; but just before I lost consciousness, I looked to see what his face looked like and was surprised to see that he didn’t have one.
Monday
Freud, Freud, Shadenfreude
I’m not much for finding deep symbolic meaning in dreams, especially what might be considered Freudian outtakes. But I had an incredibly jumbled dream; and went from getting on or off a bus to a classroom like hotel room. A nurse who came to check on my wife and I could see through the front door of the room because it had a big glass window in it. It reminded me of classroom doors at grade school except that the shade was on the outside.
My wife and I had entered the room and abruptly we undressed and began to make love on the floor; which is all very well. And a little strange, given our past habits. Somewhere between the time that she undressed and my eyes moved down her body after she was lying down she was transformed: the first thing I noticed was that her skin was gray, and she didn’t have an ounce of fat on her freshly changed body.
As I began to make love to her, I noticed the difference in shape; the difference in breasts. I was being “oh so clinical” as I moved my lips up and down this almost human form.
In my defense, I do have to say she had been my wife just a moment ago, and now she looked like a product of one of those alien hybrid breeding programs you hear so much about if you have peculiar tastes in literature. I noted the differences in physiology , and wondered if I was using appropriate technique.
Anyway this whole episode was interrupted by the woman at the door looking through the glass; her nurse’s cap on her head and the shade raised. My wife and I seemed both to have a moment of embarrassment and the only half human woman that I had been with moments before was vanished.
We were fully clothed.
Friday
Hawaii
On the business trip I met someone who was interested in native Hawaiian culture. I was interested in their mysticism and my first night there I had a dream that took me to a lava tube cave (and I didn’t know they existed at the time) that I got to by swimming under water. The lava rock had been cut by hand tools so that there were seats on the side of the tube and I was initiated in some kind of ritual. I felt Kundalini flow up my spine.
I talked to my friend about the strange cave that I had been in and thought that
After that point whenever I visited
Wednesday
Let us drift away in sleepy torpor
There is always that desire to get out of the body and have a look around and any number of self help books ready to tell you how. Most start with some relaxation and mental work to both relax and have the mind ready to take over for the body. Imagine, picture and step.
The whole of meditation is learning to focus and then doing it for long periods of time, and if you speak to Yogi’s they will tell you (or at least told me) that what really matters is through which chakra you exit from on when you leave your body. Any will do depending on your interests but up top is better.
Personally I would be surprised if paperback techniques worked for this kind of thing, but there was an interesting book by someone who “fell into” or rather out of and gave a very gripping description of the process.
He’s dead now, but his students or some of the more adept of them have seen him actively engaged in some educational activity or other in one of the places that the physically unencumbered populate. The departed have much to educate themselves about, or so it seems,
There are several reasons that I found him convincing, probably the first of which is that his “process” resembled an exercise in Kundalini activity. With my hapless Yogic background, that meant something to me.
I have never been able to knowingly and consciously leave my body, although I have had at least a couple of dreams that seemed to indicate a bit about the process.
The first took place when I was very young, perhaps 20 years old. I was living at my father’s and after I fell asleep I felt myself pulling myself out of the back of my physical body which lay on its side. I was conscious of my clear shapeless gelatinous nature as I exited and then went out the window. I felt myself as I strained through the screen on the window as a vivid dream scape opened up which I entered of which I have no memory once I moved into it.
The other memorable dream happened perhaps several years later after I was married (and before I was divorced) after my father’s death where I found myself in a garden and saw my father. Although he had the physical shape that he had had in life, he too was utterly clear, as though he were made of some clear gelatinous nature that was shaped to his former body.
There are people who claim to do this consciously, enlightened masters of course; and the occasional Joe who simply gets out. Lucky them.
Sunday
Free Falling
Dropping like a stone from an enormous height can be quite exhilarating. I don’t remember seeing any parachute lines. I was wearing the same light khaki uniform that I had on while I was on what seemed an enormous airship or spaceship; although given the other hardware I was now looking at I would vote for airship.
The room on the airship had been large, much like a large meeting room; auditorium or hangar deck. I remember walking around a bit, checking my uniform and talking to people before informally expediting the take-off. I was excited, and eventually went back to my seat and looked across the room through a mirror at myself. The uniform I had on was summer weight and was a military military uniform although not like any I know of. I didn't notice any rank insignia; maybe I was of such a low rank I didn’t merit any. As I looked closer at my young and somewhat Asian face my hands went back to my extremely long hair and held it up: it was about three feet long and was blond for a swath that started just above the above my head to about six inches from the end; but otherwise was nut brown: my natural color.
But back to that free fall: there I was looking down at a firefight of sorts with aircraft that had design features from propeller driven aircraft about Vietnam War vintage, except that the main wings were unusually short and ended in rectangular box like structures out of which came the thrust that moved the aircraft forward. I did not see any propellers; just the boxes where they would be. I wondered how they could stay airborne. All the aircraft were designed this way.
It was quite a vista with clouds seen from above, a couple of aircraft with guns out and active below me; and of coarse the green of fields and jungle or forest below. And the occasional object flying at me; one of which I recognized as resembling an old sidewinder heat seeking missile. Other things flew at me which I gratefully avoided.
Wednesday
The Pool
Within a month I was having my appendix removed via laparoscopic surgery and a little surgical device, I was told afterward, jutted out of my abdomen for one of the incisions.
Last night I dreamed I was in a locker room which opened through a wide entryway onto a swimming pool. It was busy. People seemed to be coming and jumping into the pool some with their clothing on ignoring the lockers – I saw suits, uniforms and other outfits although other people seemed unclothed.
I couldn’t bring myself to wear my clothing into it, so I stripped down to my under shorts and jumped in. The water wasn't soapy but it was milky white. The pool itself and the room it was in was in shadow with no lights above, on the walls or in the water . The light came from the door that I had come in and the entryway on the far side of the pool.
The pool room and entryways were tiled in white bathroom tile and there were fully clothed people waiting and milling around on the much larger floor space on the side opposite the one I had come in, as if they were waiting for people.
People were piling in on the side I had entered and hurrying across it, sloshing and wading. Although the locker room had not seemed busy, when I looked back towards the entrance a lot of people were moving through. All the traffic was moving in one direction.
The pool wasn’t very deep, maybe a couple of feet, but I felt naked and wished I had brought some swimming shorts. I sloshed around for a while thinking the water was for washing and I could get clean in there. Not even thinking about it I made my way to the other side; keeping my shorts under the water. I seemed to be the only one taking my time.
Feeling embarrassed, I reached the other side too ashamed to stand, so I crawled up the steps and found myself lying on my back looking up at the people milling around.
A sheet must have been put over me from the neck down, because I no longer felt undressed. A pair of swimming trunks appeared miraculously within easy reach. I was about to put them on when I looked up and saw several young women directly in front of me sitting on those fold away metal chairs so common in church basement meeting rooms and talking to each other. They didn't seem to be paying attention to me, but I felt too embarrassed to get up and try to put the trunks on because it would demonstrate how naked I was under the sheet.
One of the women directly in front of me was a stunning short haired blond, in a black dress that came to her knees. I had never seen her before and I wondered who she was. The other people seemed dressed up too.
There was a separation between a couple of the chairs in front, as though there was an aisle down the middle of a large room full of chairs. I was in front of the first row and in the middle; with my feet in the direction of the aisle. I seemed to be lower than everyone there.
The scene had shifted without my noticing and I was no longer at the pool. when I looked up at these women, it seemed as though something was about to begin, but I couldn’t figure out what.
Monday
Where is this place?
There was a celebration, or fair of sorts – crowds of people in dressy clothes that don’t exactly match our clothes but came close. I and some others were in an outdoor area with tables and chairs scattered around. It was a beautiful day with clouds in the sky and a peculiar aircraft with large propellers, and aerodynamic, but I could tell from the abbreviated wings and the top and bottom surface area that it just should not have been able to fly. But it had big windows and it was full of people and it was about to land somewhere close, because it was going slow. I wondered how it stayed up. A brief moment later there was a young man flying a bicycle powered contraption that looked like a ribbon bedecked giant wheel in the air.
This only works if it’s Mars on a nice summer’s day; which at the moment is impossible. The odd thing to me is that over several decades I’ve dreamed about a world that, for the physics to work, has to have less gravity than the earth.
Saturday
The Day I Was Late
Normally, my wife would drive me to the BART station at
One morning everything was going normally, and then strangely, things started to slow. We didn’t make the light we always made; we got behind somebody who was slow. And I missed my train.
Wednesday
Unfold and Awaken
We talk so easily about the soul; as if it were some alter image of each of us just waiting for death to unfold and awaken. Like a butterfly, caught in the cocoon of life aging like an old wine until it can be drunk by the Grand Master.
But in Hindu mysticism they talk about a Higher Self. Edgar Cayce talked about that too; and it or some close cousin is mentioned in other literature.
I dreamed about mine, but it was more like a stamping machine in a factory pounding out countless lives one after another: a pilot; a Russian; Arab; Chinese, Black; Hindu; Muslim. As though it's sole language was one of lives, and that was all it did.
As each of these went by like the passing numbers of a roulette wheel I got a peek into each one and glimpsed it's essence.
Sunday
If you move to San Francisco Learn Some Japanese
My wife and I had decided to move to San Francisco California, where it would be useful to know Japanese.
In our waking world there is only a small Japanese presence in the "Japan Town" area - where there is something of a Japanese cultural presence. In the dream Japan was truly a great power with a colonial like presence on the West Coast of the United States.
I had a meeting with a Russian spy who showed me his paperback book about the life of Jack E. Robinson after about ten minutes of small talk, we exchanged information about the Japanese. The Russians were our partners but the Japanese were somehow not. He gave me a rather large folder of information about them. And I was out of the building walking in the California Sun.
Downtown San Francisco seemed more like New York or Chicago because the buildings seemed so much larger and more substantial. The block size was bigger and the hills weren't as prominent. It wasn't exactly the City I know and love.
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