2017-07-08 5:30 am
I want to put on an Event of some kind, so I go ACROSS THE TWO-LANE HIGHWAY [the Urumara] to a church with two boys. [Nitpicker & Potwatcher. Details forgot.]
[A very short moment of lucidity:]
I CROSS THE STREET [the Urumara] to a parklike area with a strip of landscaped bushes and small evergreen trees along the road [the Nowhere]. Ten feet past that, a tall chain-link fence [the Urumara]. I'm REMINDED OF SOMETHING--what? Oh yeah, this is the zoo where I saw the unbelievably large, dirty-YELLOW-colored bear and her cub. Like that one over there. But her coat is scruffier and she's not quite as big. But still this could be her. Nah, this is a dream. Yeah, that's what happened, I'm dreaming. [Immediately shift to the Nowhere, remember to stay still with eyes closed and wait for the next dream scene. Had vivid dreams the rest of the night.]
2017-07-12 9:35 pm
[To bed, kinda early, I've been working 16 hours a day on my website and staying up way late. My former habit of going to bed early and sleeping ten or eleven hours trying to force lucidity has been replaced with my love of coding websites, at least for now. I can't stop.]
2017-07-13 3:00 am
"You Mean Bumper Cars?"
I go to Mr. Murray's house [THE BOSS a.k.a. my 3ness dream body]. Inside, I'm talking to someone where we stand in the kitchen doing paperwork at a counter. I mention I had put the $25 I'd been paid in the place where it was most likely to be lost, in my front shirt pocket.
I go into an office Library and there's a paper folded in a file pertinent to a paper in another file [CODING DREAM], so I think I'd like to copy it and stick it in the other file. The paper is about what SHOULD BE DONE about HOMELESS PEOPLE [Limberluck, my 8ness dream body] bothering you. I WONDER if I should ask for permission to use the COPY MACHINE and decide to just take my chances, then I WONDER if the dark grayish GREEN background on the paper will make a readable copy.
I'm practicing at least twice [the Notimezone] going UP A STEEP DRIVEWAY [the Urumara] INSIDE A LARGE GARAGE [the Projection Room], lying on my side [like in my bed--this is an urum or sleep paralysis dream], pulling myself up a steeply ramped, short intake stretch that leads up into the garage, by slapping the concrete with my palm so my hand will stick to the concrete like a suction cup, and pulling my body along. This method of transportation is necessary because the ceiling is only a foot above the floor [the Urumara represented as a claustrophobic space]. Once inside Mr. Murray's garage, there are two guys working on a long metal thing like a rain gutter downspout [Nitpicker and Potwatcher, my 4ness dream body]. I mention that I have claustrophobia.
[Without explanation or narrative event to back it up, my dream body is now a vehicle, the next sentence is symbolic of leaving the body:] When I get out of the car, I notice the blue jeans I've borrowed have a hole in an inconvenient place in the crotch.
I'm backing the car now, and accidentally tap the back bumper into their downspout which straddles two chairs in lieu of a workbench in the empty garage. One of them tells me to just make it LIKE A GAME, and I laboriously THINK of the right game and say it, "You mean bumper cars?" [Wake up.]
2017-07-13 1:10 am
[To bed finally, a triumphant day of web coding challenges conquered, happy and excited, been in front of a screen constantly most of my waking hours, right up to crash-into-bed-time. Had a lucid unworlding after only about 15 to 18 minutes of sleep. That's pretty close to WILD but really DILD.]
With my brother [SC] and other family members unseen [Soul Retinue], at night, we CROSS A STREET [the Urumara] in the old part of the City and head UP A STEEP SIDEWALK paved with patterned stones [not bricks or concrete]. To THE RIGHT is the blank side of an old brick building [the Nowhere] and a street to THE LEFT. There is some confusion at first as to whether the person holding my right elbow, as if I needed a guide, is my mom or my brother, but I settle on bro. [Of course it's my dream body/bodies.]
To mess with my bro, I jokingly start telling him that we might be dreaming. The wide old sidewalk ahead of us is very steep. I tell him we could just fly up the hill, in spite of assuming that he feels derision for my flippant attitude, I don't care [Limberluck]. I think it's funny, so I keep egging him on, hey c'mon, we can fly up this long steep sidewalk, why not, I bet we can, just try. He seems to be ignoring me or waiting to see what I'll do.
I still think I'm joking when I jump up into the air. Remembering flying dreams of the past, I flap my arms, not so much to grab air like a bird as to grab energy with my Intent. The action takes hold and I fly into the air in utter disbelief, because I had felt so completely real and physical while I was taunting my bro about his skeptical attitude toward me. It takes several seconds of actual flying to convince even myself that I am dreaming. I can see roofs of buildings far below me and start hollering, "I'm dreaming! I'm dreaming! I'm dreaming!" over and over maybe ten times.
I start to sense my presence lying in bed and turn that around, head back into the dream, bring the rooftops far below back into focus, but don't know what else to do, so I let the dark scene fade into blackness. I want to go back in because it was so short, but I also want to get up and write it down.
[Got up because once again I got lucid right after going to sleep, no more than 15 to 18 minutes of sleep, and sleep-deprived at that. Was in a great mood because I'd decided earlier in the evening not more than two hours earlier that making websites and finishing old projects to get them online was a good way to spend my life and that it would actually be good for my unworlding practice to move into the relaxed phase of the practice because obsession doesn't help whereas enjoying life and enjoying the practice as a part-time hobby and as a developing skill does actually make me better at it because it fertilizes my mindset. Had gone to sleep with a casual, devil-may-care attitude, with no worries, feeling excited about life, liking life. As I lay down in a semi-comfortable, not too choosy posture, I thought--briefly and spontaneously--that this posture might be the one that gets me lucid. Not like last time I got unworlded, lying on my right side with my right arm up above my head under my son's pillow, but the posture wherein I just flop down loosely and let go. The images came on strong as they do when I am lacking sleep.]
[Back to bed, excited, hungry, not sleepy at all. Might have to get up to eat.]
[After no sleep, I remembered from the lucid dream recorded above, when I first took a long high stride up the steep sidewalk in the dream, it seemed I stayed up in the air too long during the stride and kinda floated down as if gravity had been adjusted wrong, so I said to bro, "Did you notice how slow I came down?" and he actually agreed with me. Feeling encouragement from my own brother, that's when I decided to try for real even though it didn't make sense at the time; I was still willing to try on a lark. And just now, as I wrote the last sentence, I remembered that as I flew into the air, I tried to put my right index finger through my left palm, first time I remembered to try that reality check in a dream, but was too excited to pay attention to the results, more interested in the rooftops far below me. Also as I had gone to sleep Noticing, but just barely noticing, real thick dreambody activity around me, lots of activity in the room in little sleeps as I faded away into other places. Maybe this is my way of experiencing sleep paralysis? Little sleeps with "intruders" that I barely notice? Have been doing NO practices except breathing all the time, meditating every morning, and keeping a journal. Rarely doing reality checks but finger through palm is most common followed by What-Just-Happened, followed by trying to float up or jumping up to see if I stay up, a technique I now call Boccaperta in honor of St. Joseph of Cupertino, who as 'Stephen' is my higher self.
[Dark cloth wrapped around my face, slept in.]
[Had a long dream or two last night including a Library with a CODE or call number written at the top of a long scrap of paper. Librarian is a young man with long, dark brown hair twisted up into a knot behind his head [Dream Usher], white shirt, taller than me. Takes my scrap so I try to memorize the code since I'll be needing it. Bro is alongside me [SC].
I go outside and CROSS THE STREET [the Urumara]. This is Burnside district in Portland where the famous, huge Powells BOOKSTORE is across the street from the park where the HOMELESS PEOPLE hang out. Booths like the tiny open front stores in the Philippines are lined up at the edge of the park facing the sidewalk, in front of some kind of fence [the Urumara]. I am not wearing any pants and I feel I have to face this fact and walk bravely down the sidewalk as if nothing was wrong until I think of a solution. I ask an older Filipina tending a little store with laundry hanging in front of it, in Visayan, if I can borrow the ORANGE AND YELLOW patterned old towel on her clothesline: "Pwede maghulam kog towel?" and she says, "No," in English. I ask again, and she says OK.
I wrap the towel around me and I'm still a little self-conscious, but it's so much better than being naked. I have to hold the towel together where the two ends meet at my belly [2nd chakra or 3ness: orange], so I go through a staff office area in a big store looking for various kind of paper clips to devise something to hold the towel TOGETHER [3ness/Chaining/memory]. I see some clips I like and ask for one, but then instead of using it to clip the towel together, I'm LOOKING IN A MIRROR and when I see I'm wearing my old reliable DARK NAVY BLUE STOCKING CAP, I hang the spring clip from the cap. As I'm leaving what now IDs as the Public Library downtown, I see a HOMELESS GUY wearing a gray jacket and BLUE JEANS lying slumped in a chair ON MY RIGHT. His eyes are huge, glossy, black, no whites in his eyes, very alien and sick looking, the two eyes bulging and two different shapes and sizes. I WONDER if he's dead but decide he's just passed out, sick or asleep. Then it's me [merged with Limberluck].
I'm climbing a big concrete staircase outside the Libary, imagining that I'm telling my parents that my eye condition is OK because I can still SEE JUST FINE. I can't walk well and [wake up with near cramps in my cold feet.]
[Notice lots of content Chaining, the Urumara as a steep incline and as a street crossing. Libraries, scraps of paper. Lots of eyes in dreams lately. The message is Metsuke: shortness of lucid episodes is due to not practicing Metsuke. Instead of like: "I'm dreaming! I'm dreaming!" I have to instantaneously and robotically flip over into business mode: what is the greater purpose of this experience. I don't mean in the sense of getting philosophical, but to start on the Intent Agenda. Which I see now is one purpose of the Urumara presenting itself as steep inclines. It puts my knees closer to the ground, because I'm stupposed to be crawling, not flying. That is still my agenda. Crawl through the Urumara, through the curtain, back the other way, stand up and walk through curtain after curtain, noticing changes in state each time, and then finding the Bob Neal section in the Library.]
[Not bad for a beginner.]