Beekeeper
23rd April 2008, 11:43 PM
As I type this it is 4.54am. Got up naturally at 2am, read about lucid dreams and OBEs for 45 minutes, went to the toilet. I’m rhythm napping in F’s room (he’s on sleep over). I’ve never used this room before. A few adjustments needed. Ticking clock banished and window closed.
I consciously register a single beep from the timer as I drift off.
I wake up in F’s room convinced that my attempt has failed. There’s TV on in this room (no actual TVs in bedrooms at our place - we don’t believe in it). On TV, there’s a lady in a British sitcom. She’s thin, 30-ish with curly blond hair. The sitcom is based on her humorous disregard for every one else’s feelings. There’s an opening song with her walking with various work colleagues somehow reminiscent of a Kylie Minogue clip where you see multiple Kylies. I tell H, my youngest, who must have come into the room to turn it off. He tries and the TV doesn’t respond. I repeat the request twice more and the TV doesn’t respond. It’s at this point I realise I’m dreaming.
I seem to rise up in some kind of windy vortex in the room now. The dream maintains its integrity but I seem to have forgotten what happens. It got a bit wild and I think it went on for sometime. I wish I could remember.
I have a false awakening somewhere along the line. It’s dark. I think this symbolises my loss of lucidity as well as simulating the reality of my sleeping environment. Somehow, I think I’ve disturbed H. We’re both up and about but he’s naked in the dark. He goes through the front screen door. The problem is that we don’t have a front screen door; this is from my child hood home. I hear a car outside and I’m angrily whispering for H to come inside because he’s naked and it’s dangerous. Then a man has him at the bottom of the stairs. There suddenly seems to be more light now. The man is naked too. I pursue them and expose the man’s face to see it is G, my husband. I know I’m dreaming again now and I know I never left the original dream. I realise I simply lost lucidity.
Now my entire family is out front of the house. There’s full light. We’re floating and it’s fun because we’re in a line. I tell everyone to bring one knee up at a right angle. G suggests a chorus line in the air and we accommodate though that wasn’t my intention.
Initially when we began our “chorus line†there were two other male youths. They were possibly F’s age (14) and possibly the two friends at his sleepover. Something I notice constantly in my dreams is the sense of other characters witnessing or participating who are essentially ignored, though their presence is felt. I’ve been meaning to investigate these characters when I gather the wit to do so.
H say’s,†Let’s have chocolate milkshake,†which is something I think he would do in the circumstances. We’re constantly limiting H’s intake of food and drink so if he could materialise anything I think this would pop into his mind.
G responds, “No, let’s have honey beer.â€Â
“Honey beer?†I reply with humour, “What went wrong there?†We’re smiling at each other. The real G doesn’t like beer but he likes a bit of playful ribbing. I guess I should see this as a sign the dream is unravelling a bit. (“Honey†might have come up because “bee†and “beer†may be stored closely somewhere in my brain cells).
Now I’m walking down a long grey corridor. There’s fog. I remember to look at my hands and clap them to maintain clarity. I begin to plan. I ask for a temple but I know I’m coming out of the dream and I awake.
I consciously register a single beep from the timer as I drift off.
I wake up in F’s room convinced that my attempt has failed. There’s TV on in this room (no actual TVs in bedrooms at our place - we don’t believe in it). On TV, there’s a lady in a British sitcom. She’s thin, 30-ish with curly blond hair. The sitcom is based on her humorous disregard for every one else’s feelings. There’s an opening song with her walking with various work colleagues somehow reminiscent of a Kylie Minogue clip where you see multiple Kylies. I tell H, my youngest, who must have come into the room to turn it off. He tries and the TV doesn’t respond. I repeat the request twice more and the TV doesn’t respond. It’s at this point I realise I’m dreaming.
I seem to rise up in some kind of windy vortex in the room now. The dream maintains its integrity but I seem to have forgotten what happens. It got a bit wild and I think it went on for sometime. I wish I could remember.
I have a false awakening somewhere along the line. It’s dark. I think this symbolises my loss of lucidity as well as simulating the reality of my sleeping environment. Somehow, I think I’ve disturbed H. We’re both up and about but he’s naked in the dark. He goes through the front screen door. The problem is that we don’t have a front screen door; this is from my child hood home. I hear a car outside and I’m angrily whispering for H to come inside because he’s naked and it’s dangerous. Then a man has him at the bottom of the stairs. There suddenly seems to be more light now. The man is naked too. I pursue them and expose the man’s face to see it is G, my husband. I know I’m dreaming again now and I know I never left the original dream. I realise I simply lost lucidity.
Now my entire family is out front of the house. There’s full light. We’re floating and it’s fun because we’re in a line. I tell everyone to bring one knee up at a right angle. G suggests a chorus line in the air and we accommodate though that wasn’t my intention.
Initially when we began our “chorus line†there were two other male youths. They were possibly F’s age (14) and possibly the two friends at his sleepover. Something I notice constantly in my dreams is the sense of other characters witnessing or participating who are essentially ignored, though their presence is felt. I’ve been meaning to investigate these characters when I gather the wit to do so.
H say’s,†Let’s have chocolate milkshake,†which is something I think he would do in the circumstances. We’re constantly limiting H’s intake of food and drink so if he could materialise anything I think this would pop into his mind.
G responds, “No, let’s have honey beer.â€Â
“Honey beer?†I reply with humour, “What went wrong there?†We’re smiling at each other. The real G doesn’t like beer but he likes a bit of playful ribbing. I guess I should see this as a sign the dream is unravelling a bit. (“Honey†might have come up because “bee†and “beer†may be stored closely somewhere in my brain cells).
Now I’m walking down a long grey corridor. There’s fog. I remember to look at my hands and clap them to maintain clarity. I begin to plan. I ask for a temple but I know I’m coming out of the dream and I awake.