Archive for the ‘lucidity’ Category

Pudu Gives Warning


I walk next door to Dee’s house. There is a small gathering at that white ranch house that had bunnies in the backyard, like we did when I was a kid. The gathering (maybe a wedding?) is Indian catered. There is a small russet colored deer (pudu?), gorgeous color and fur, and a beautiful cow laying in the yard looking at me. The Cow and Pudu are radiant with life and health. I really want to talk to the Pudu. I look over at him, a little awkwardly. The Pudu comes over to me and takes me across the street (in front of the olive colored ranch house) to talk.

He says, “If you are going to keep living here you’re going to have to change your lifestyle.”

I ask the Pudu, “Aren’t you the Pudu?”

He says, “It doesn’t really matter.”

In response to his statement, I immediately think of midwifery school and some other places I could go besides here in Portland, that wouldn’t be so costly (in both money and time). (“Wasn’t there one I really liked in Vancouver?”) I go check it out.


Hmmm… Happy to see Pudu and the Cow, both so gorgeous. And, I love talking to people and animals in my dreams. The Cow and Pudu seem suspiciously like Anandi Ma and Dileepji. Yeah!!! I was glad for this warning. As I’ve thought about my wanting to go back to school, I’ve always been leery of the money and lifestyle crunch involved. I really don’t want to go into more debt. When I thought back on the dream, I immediately imagined myself working full-time, having a baby and going to school. There was no art in that vision of the future for obvious reasons. But, I’ve started to look into other options…and that is yielding some interesting/promising results.

This dream also made me think about my friend Dee. Dee is my oldest friend. She lived (and still lives) across the street from my childhood home. I hadn’t called her back for a couple weeks because I was sad that she might not be able to come out to visit for my wedding like I was hoping. The dream reminded me to let go of my crap and call her. Happily, it looks like she will be able to come after all, and more importantly I got to touch base with my longtime friend.


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Crystal Talk


I go to sleep holding my seed crystal in my hand. Luc Bourgault recommends this practice when beginning to work with quartz. He says not to worry if you let go of the crystal, because it instinctively knows where to go to do the work needed. Then clear your crystal in salted water in the morning (see his instructions).

I wake up twice to find the crystal resting on my belly. I want to remember this because I know the crystal is working. I dream I am telling someone about it. She explains that the crystal talks to the area. I tell her it was pointed towards the area that needed help. She says, “Actually, it is pointed away from that area, to take the energy out. It only takes about 10 minutes.”

Throughout the night, my dreams are so much clearer, I feel mixed up with the clear quartz energy. I look forward to continuing sleep work with the crystal. Thank you crystal!

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This was a pretty heavy night for dreams.


1. I am drawing closer and closer to death–my own death. I have had too many heart attacks. I knew… maybe if I had taken better care of myself–but, it’s too late for thoughts like that.

I’m in a cage, my mom doesn’t see it. I change rooms, but I am still in a cage.

I want to write down my last thoughts. It seems self-important to do so. When I finish writing them down will that be it? Kevin seems to know I’m going to die soon.

It’s like he doesn’t want to touch me anymore. I am floating near him, he doesn’t even look at me. I’m just my subtle body now, there is nothing to touch. It’s okay, I’m not part of that reality anymore.

I must let go of physical desires.

I go to Kevin, I’m just nearby. I must remember Lord Rama each time we merge, hug, or kiss.

I want to write my last thoughts on paper, not on computer. There are too many files. He might never see them. It seems vain. I write on scraps of paper. My pen works poorly, sometime it writes and sometimes it won’t.

“It’s not about the comfort, or satisfying all those endless desires. Let each kiss be Lord Rama’s kiss.”

13.jpgThere are many files flashing by. Some are nursing files. None of it matters. I’m going to die very soon. If I had gone to the doctor for my heart earlier would I have lived a longer life? Too late now.

Wake: Eek! This dream seemed so real. I woke up feeling sobered–to say the least. I’m happy that in the dream I was able to let go and understand the changes taking place. It was strange because I normally think of myself as someone who is going to live a really long life. I never worry about dying in my 40’s or even my 60’s. Heart attacks are a problem, but they are more of a metaphorical, emotional variety. I had another dream once, where I almost died because of too many heart attacks, (read family torture). My impression of this was that the original cause of my thyroid problem was not a throat chakra imbalance, rather that imbalance manifested as a consequence of abuse to the heart chakra. That was a couple years ago–obviously something that still needs to be addressed though!

2. I go to the acupuncturist to have an abortion. He is a thin Chinese man, with a small office off the street downtown. He stands in the doorway and turns me away for today–there are no appointments. I am not sure if I will go through with it now. I am with a friend, a girl.

Wake: Another surprising and very clear dream. I have been thinking about going to my friend’s acupuncturist, but not for an abortion. I really want to be healthy and off western medicine, and I really want to get pregnant. Maybe there is something that needs to be gotten rid of in order for this to happen.

3. I get to my uncle in time. He is actually my father and uncle combined. He is on a boat–lower level–playing cards with a friend. He’s looking very pudgy. There is brown wood paneling on all the walls. I know he is going to die and I wanted to say my good-byes. I tell him I love him and that God loves him. I try not to get too serious so it doesn’t seem weird, but I do get a little serious with that. He doesn’t know that he is going to die, so it would all seem a little odd.

Wake: This dream seemed more like a reaction to the first one. I woke up from #1 all weird and then, to console myself, I think, I thought maybe this dream is really about my father. He’s the only person in my life that seems anywhere close to death–but not that close!

4. At a vintage shop. I buy this purse that is not my absolute favorite, but because it was hand made and in a fairly ingenious way, with a tie and then the lady who made it wrote on it: “love makes me cry”.

Wake: Well, I threw this one in because I spent the next couple days after these dreams crying my freaking eyes out. Was it due to love, heart attacks, death–are they all the same? Yes and yes. Was this crying due to my taking of St. John’s Wort and Hawthorne? I think so. At any rate, I am feeling very cleansed and that I released a bunch of stuff that really needed to go.

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220px-martin_crane.jpgIn a recent dream I was riding on an airplane wing with my herb instructor, Marty Crane of Frasier, and one other person. Marty’s appearance was a bit of a mystery. The next day I went to herb class and my teacher told a story about having sciatica a few years back and demonstrated how he walked–exactly like Marty!

He talked about experiencing ‘old-man’-ness for the first time. He got over the sciatica and some repressed anger that brought it on with the help of a plant–Mormon Tea. This situation made the holographic nature of reality more clear to me.

We all have our face that dominates the current time in our lives. Still we have other faces. Sides of ourselves that we don’t see very often, our past selves/other sides of our personality, but at certain times they come out. Suddenly we are in many ways the person we were 5, 10, 50 years ago. Maybe we are tired, or a situation reminds of us something familiar in the past–suddenly we feel like a kid again. I become very aware of it when I am going through a transformative period. I am aware enough of both what I have been and who I hope to be that it becomes very obvious when I see myself slipping back and forth between the old self and the new self, shifting like a holograph.

Acknowledging things are this mutable, we see that we can easily be, but don’t have to be pulled around by changing thoughts and external events. By focusing our energy we can change the dream so that when we see a side of ourselves we are not so fond of we can shift into our more preferred self.


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Taking Your Camera Into Dreamtime–an illustrated guidebook, by Moi! How do you take pictures in dreamtime? This little booklet gets you started on doing just that. All about dream recall, lucidity, and having fun at night.


More info about it here.

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A friend of mine (a guy) and his friend (also a guy, but seemingly younger/smaller) tell me about how they’ve found an apartment. They’re staying in a house for five, with four rooms. They sound very excited about it. Really my friend speaks for both of them.

Later, I am away, as in a vacation. I find a place to stay for the night. A little rooming house. I over hear a lady ask the manager: “So, if I decide to stay a minute or two late (meaning 5:07) will I be charged extra?” The manager lady (somewhat begrudgingly) says no. Then she is talking to me and informs me the checkout time is 5. I understand this to mean 4pm, initially I thought it might be am, but that would be strange. I am pretty happy about this information, I hate having to rush early in the morning and carry my belongings with me around town.  I remember my friend Rachel stayed here before, and told me about the late check out time, but left early in the day anyway. I was sad that she left early when we could have hung out longer, but I understood that she had things to do.

The place is nice for a house. I am comfortable.  I am the only one around after being shown to my room. The other lady and the manager have gone. I decide to look around. Furnishings look to have been purchased in the late 70’s, but are well maintained. The furniture may be older, it is nice, but the bed coverings have those colors and materials. Nothing’s gaudy, they weren’t trendy when purchased, just of that era. I like that about the place, I wish more things were maintained instead of pitching and remodeling. Most of the rooms are very small like mine. There are only three bedrooms so far. The rest are common spaces, this is also nice, places to live in, as opposed to just using every scrap of space for renting rooms. Then I find the double room. I peak in. It has a full bed and a smaller mattress on the floor. It looks comfortable but sparse (like the rest of the place), somewhat institutional I guess. Every few moments as I am looking I realize there are people sleeping in the beds. I try to become more aware of this. I realize they are my friends (the guy and his friend). I find this comforting. I quietly back away and go to my room.

The next day I go down to the river for a festival or carnival of some sort. I walk on the boardwalk and see a variety of people. One asks me about Coco, I explain I didn’t want to bring him for this. I see a little chihuahua, I think it might be Chichi. I pick her up and smell her belly. It’s not her. I am a little disappointed.

I lean on the railing and look out over the river. It’s dusky, night is almost full, everything looks black and white. I see a very large owl flying down the river and into some woods that are off to my right in a small island.  It was a barred owl. I see a couple more owls, flying in the same direction. They are not all the same, but one is a barred owl. Then I see one flying towards me and off to my left. This one has a white moon face–barn owl! I had never seen a barn owl before.  I am in shock about how amazing it is to see the owls. They are so beautiful.

I want to take pictures of the owls. When I get out my camera they are gone. An eagle lands on a buoy to fish. I think maybe I’ll take his picture since the owls are gone. He does some funny things with his wings, like try to scratch his back–when he does, his color goes funny, sort of thin/transparent, and he doesn’t seem so real, like maybe he is not an eagle.

As I continue looking at him he is more like a person. He sits more like a man, and looks at me. He has an eagle beak. He is reddish, he has a long beard that goes from blond to red, or red to blond, it is hard to pin down.

He’s on the boardwalk now. As big as a big man, looking like a 6’4″ morbidly obese Native American man.  I ask to take his picture and he doesn’t seem to object, nevertheless he keeps shapeshifting in ugly ways. First he looks like an eagle. Then his beard is back. I have been trying to politely talk with him, despite his attitude being a little off-putting. I tell him that I like his beard. He looks down, as if to say, this is not a beard. I had been trying to figure out if it was a beard or feathers. At that moment, I realize it is made up of very fine peacock-like feathers, very wispy, and  very many.

Then he grabs a person walking by and poses for the camera like they are sloppy drunk people. Then he again looks huge and fat.  He sits in front of me, looking straight at me.  Just as I am about to take the picture, he turns his head over his right shoulder and vomits dark brown–he’s eaten too much. His vomiting makes me so sick that I turn and vomit over the rail. My vomit is light in color. I find this situation strange, as I do not normally get sick to my stomach. I turn back and finally take his picture. Then I think about how we both probably need to brush our teeth.


This dream was very puzzling for me. It brought up some issues I have been thinking about regarding cameras and dreams and cameras and birds. I have a big internal battle between over respecting boundaries and knowing when things are no big deal. Here’s where I am siding for the moment: I think it is really important to take pictures of subtle things (like birds who know you’re watching) only if they seem okay with it, and your heart really wants it. I, on the other hand, have been doing a bit of casual shooting, kind of: ‘oh, I want to shoot owls, but I’ll take you since you’re around’. Not very respectful of the life form that happens to rank not so high at the present time. So that was a good lesson, especially since I have been working on my guide: Taking Your Camera into Dreamtime.

Let’s see, the dream also reminds me of a crappy movie I saw recently (the bed and mattress on the floor) and a particularly unsavory fellow that I ran into at work. I almost became lucid when I puked, as that is apparently even more unlikely than me standing in front of a shapeshifting eagle. Here’s to more lucidity in the future.

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1.  There’s a charlatan–spiritual leader. I am still with Ma, but this is a second person to follow. Many people follow him, but I am suspicious. He wants blood. All I have to do is poke my vein with a wire and get a drop of blood. It’s harder to do than it seems. I don’t get a drop, and it hurts. I start crying.

He takes my left arm and gets blood. I didn’t want to use my left arm, because I am embarrassed by my scars. He grabs a piece of my skin near my inner elbow–he pulls it out and makes several new scars. ‘There,’ he says. I am not sure if he did that to be mean, or to tell me to get over my other scars. I’m shocked and feel fragile.

I walk around–so many people are into him, mostly women. I go to the bathroom. Someone’s left their clothes next to the toilet. Asian ladies keep pulling back the curtain and giggling at me. I shut the curtain and try to go about my business.

Everyone’s so caught up in his spell. I’m walking around purposefully, trying to make my mind up about the situation. People talk to me. I mumble about how I am still not sure whether I am sleeping or dreaming, or dreaming or awake. Finally I decide it’s all wack; I am dropping the whole scene and going to see Ma.

Later, I am driving with Lydia (to go see Ma?). We’re in her old mustang with camper top, faded red, white and blue, runs on diesel automobile. She says she’ll give it to me when she finishes paying it off. That’s cool–glad to have a funky old diesel. But odd–how could an old car like this not be paid off?

2.  I go/fly to therapy. It feels awesome to fly. When it starts out I just rise up, so easily. I briefly consider whether I may be dreaming. I look around and the dream is beautifully convincing, and besides, I would rather imagine myself to be flying while awake. I talk to the lady/therapist. I ask her if she wants to fly with me. I am so excited about this. I’m holding her hands asking her, with big excited eyes. She is timid/nervous. She keeps coming up with excuses. ‘It’s not safe’–‘We’ll have to stay on the main roads’–‘But, that won’t be safe either,’ (because it is nighttime). I tell her about how it is so very safe–with flight you can do anything and you’re safe! Even if we follow the main busy road, we’ll be safe above the cars–they’ll just be pretty lights below. We’ll be impervious, et cetera. I love flying. She does not take the bait.

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