(Saturday, August 31, 2019)
In the last two days I have had a series of very lucid dreams, three to four per night that I remember upon awakening. My definition of lucid is a dream that feels like actual reality, full of intense visual and emotional details: a level of existence we experience in sleep. Hillman’s Underworld. I have been too busy with work and chores to be able to record them with the details that were still clear in my mind early in the morning.
(Friday)
1: I am moving in the dream from house to house, homes I have owned in my dream lifetime. There are many. One matches exactly the two-story house my Luther grandparents owned in Brewster, Minnesota. Another is a complex, flat-roof design that is undersized. My head touches the ceiling. It feels like the ancient pueblo dwellings in the mountains of the Southwest. Humans were much smaller then.
2: I am an East Indian woman of my current age, but my physical appearance is very, very old. My soiled teeth are nearly fully decayed. Those that remain are filled with black cavities. My skin is covered in dark, liver-colored age spots. My mood and persona, though, are energetic and extremely positive. I own a huge house occupied by many East Indian guests. We are working on a decorating project that seems to be part of a show on HGTV. We all group together for a team photo organized on multiple levels. I pose in the top row, nestled inside of a comfortable open box designed to keep people at the top safe from falling. The man standing at my left side is Brad, one of the men I met at Jill’s Healing the Ancestors retreat. His dream physical appearance is East Indian, like mine. Dream Brad is mildly surprised to see that I am at the same high spiritual level as he.
(Saturday)
1: I am writing my dream blog. Cullan is nestled next to me on my left side. In waking life, he just completed a software update for my WordPress blog. We texted back and forth last night for half an hour or so.
2: I dream that Chris has the angry, aggressive personality that appeared after his craniotomy. In the dream it is even worse (that anger has dissolved over the years). He is threatening to violently attack me. I travel with rapid stealth through the world to escape and be safe. I move into forests, vacant buildings, rivers, oceans. As I do, Lola is present in my mind. Who will feed her? Keep her safe?
3: I am standing with grade school children in a classroom, waiting for the first day of school to begin. There are quite a few empty desks and it seems the kids that enter the room will all find a place to sit. But more and more students continue to fill the room, including two bully boys. I head down the hall to the main office in order to grab more desks. I thought I was just another student, but I realize that I am the teacher. (Day notes: two male coworkers bullied me a bit on Friday. Irritating. I stood my ground.)