Laying on a futon on the floor, with my sisters sleeping around me on other futons, an elephant standing nearby decided to step over me. I saw it move toward me, it's massive legs lift heavily over my body, barely missing stepping on my legs. My sister was watching this happen, and we exchanged nervous glances. We were afraid the elephant would crush me, and breathed a sigh of relief when it didn't. Then a hippopotamus, on the other side of me, sensing my fear decided to challenge me. It rushed up to me, staring me in the eyes and sticking it's huge grey snout in my face. It waited for me to react. I knew better and stayed still, breathing normally. The hippo opened his mouth, showing me huge teeth, and put both my hands in it's mouth - not quite biting down, but I could feel it's hot breath and rough tongue. It was waiting for me to scream or run away, before it tore me to pieces. But I didn't. Lucidly, I had enough of this dream and woke up.
Pschoanalysis aside, the dream was full of vivid detail. Detail about elephants and hippos I didn't know I realized.
Another night, I watched a stage performance, in Las Vegas, of Lucille Ball and Ethel. They performed an entire comedy routine, complete with singing and dancing, that was fabulous. The costumes, set decoration, lighting and original stage direction were brilliant. I was fully entertained, and embarrassed when Lucille Ball sat next to me, joking with me, making me a part of her routine.
Why? And since when did I become a brilliant choreographer, fashion designer and set artist?
One morning I woke up after listening to a new Whitney Houston song. It was gorgeous, with great lyrics and a haunting melody that moved me deeply, and stayed with me for a couple hours after I got out of bed. She's never sung it, and I didn't have the radio on.
I didn't realize I was a brilliant composer.
I have two different homes and a vacation paradise that I visit regularly in my dreams. Whenever I visit them, they're undeniably familiar and detailed. One is a midwestern home, in the U.S., in the middle of the prairies. Another is a condo with a sumptuous bathroom with a jacuzzi hot tub. It's professionally decorated, has curvilinear hallways, and tasteful furnishings.
I can't interior decorate in my waking life, no matter how hard I try. Why is it that I can in my dreams?
The vacation paradise seems to be in the Hawaiian Islands, but I've never been there. I've wandered all over the city on bus, discovering it's different neighbourhoods, commercial areas and gay bars. My favourite place is the beach, where I like to float down gentle rapids in the warm water in a dingy.
I've read entire manuscripts in my sleep. Met ex-lovers who I haven't talked with since we broke up. Had great sex with guys I've never met. Some are so real, I still remember them and what they look like. One was a pilot. We had sex in his plane and I was crazy about him. I was sure the dream was precognitive, but I still haven't met him.
I've taught myself how to dream lucidly: I watch the dream on some level, and wake myself up when it's done or I've had enough of it. I review it consciously, and try my best to remember it. As a result, I never have a "bad" dream. I watch it happening, knowing it's a dream, and when I wake up, I let it go because I know it was only a dream. It doesn't scare me.
I know I'm not that creative. If I was, in my waking life I'd be a genius. I'd be capable of every art ever conceived, and do it at a level of expertise that few have achieved. So here's my theory.
When I dream, I tune into a Jungian collective unconscious. Where all experiences, thoughts and possibilities are shared among all humans, alive and dead. A plane where every memory and every fantasy ever took place. What I tune into is guided by my personal subconscious, which selects my experiences, but draws on all available data. Data which is beyond my limited self.
Dreams serve to help me deal with, become aware of, or fulfill my waking fears and desires. Tapping into something greater than myself to achieve unconscious goals.
Back to the present... Geekslut's post about seeing a cop, remind me of my own experience of dating a special forces RCMP officer. I'll write about that tomorrow.
Listening to: After All