Date of dream: Monday, May 30, 2005
Level of Lucidity: N/A
Level of Cohesiveness: 
This dream has been viewed 1314 times.
I'm on a vacation with my family in NY. It starts out where I'm in a museum. I'm looking into a
telescope of some sort at a painting, a portrait of a woman, maybe Mona Lisa. I'm not so much
focused on the painting, but rather I'm looking for a date. I finally see the numbers 999, which
doesn't convince me of anything.
We're on a tour and there are two middle aged women in front of us. There is a huge dropoff at the
end of the room. The next part of the tour is to jump into lined up baskets that seem to be
magically suspended in air above the drop-off. It safely takes you to the next part and it's the
only way to continue the tour of the museum. This frightens me, as I am afraid of heights. I watch
as one of the women flops from one basket and dives to another, very ungracefully, like a flopping
fish. I think it is much higher than it actually is and want to go back, but when I start to go
backwards in the museum, I see that behind me is another dropo-off with baskets. But when I look
down, I see that the fall isn't very long and I won't actually get hurt badly if I do fall.
It is later, somewhere, in the dream. We're on the city streets, looking for activities to do. I
want to go to Broadway and no one else seems that interested, like they think it is boring. One guy
in the group, who looks like someone I went to school with, wants to go to a center where people are
going to see a movie. In order to prepare people for the movie, they must read books that look like
"Leap Frog", children's books. I think it's ridiculous, but go along anyway. Inside the room, there
are circular tables, like tables in a school library. Everyone is male and young. I'm right in
front, next to the instructor. Then I notice that the table is filthy.. I back away when I realize
there's even maggots crawling along it. I point this out to the instructor and he looks embarrassed,
then cleans up the table.
The instructor asks for a reader and the guy who wanted to go in the first place, starts to read.
He's stumbling on the words and I can't believe that someone my age would have so much trouble
reading children's books.
Another part, I was with a woman who seemed to be with me in the whole dream, like a dream guide. I
feel great respect for her, sheâ??s a middle aged woman. We drive to a house and there's chicken
strips in the car. Though I don't eat meat, I was eating it in the dream. I felt like I was starving
and would eat anything.
The woman goes inside the house and I eat the rest of the chicken strips. When she comes out, I feel
badly that I didn't save them for her. Then I start saying to her, "The meat. We need the meat of
the matter." As if it were a metaphor.
We start walking in the front yard (kinda looks like my yard) when I look up into the trees. I see
that they are a glorious yellow, along with the grass. And it just continues to get brighter and
brighter. I'm filled with euphoria and start to think, "Where have I seen this scene before?" I knew
it so well and almost became lucid. But instead, I just started running in the grass. It felt wonderful.
Additional Comments:
I don't know why I dream of NY sometimes, I've never been there. I found the ending interesting with
the yellow trees, because I realized that in other dreams where I see bright yellow trees, I've
become lucid. I almost became lucid at the remeberance of these trees, but I couldn't quite make it.
It seems in the fall and winter I had a lot of lucid dreams, but haven't had any in a while.
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Date of dream: Saturday, May 28, 2005
Level of Lucidity: N/A
Level of Cohesiveness:
This dream has been viewed 1266 times.
I'm in a house that's old, with stairs. A woman is standing on the stairs showing me the proper way
to hang a rectangular wooden coat hanger, so that it's "feng shui". She tells me to put it to the
left, beneath a painting.
It seems I'm moving into the house. Yet, when I enter the living room, I find one of my old to-do
lists. I'm not sure if this is in the living room of the house I'm moving into, or my old house. On
the list it says, "Go see Berta, the babies are getting so big!" The date is 9/11, the day she died.
When I read this, I instantly start crying at the realization she is dead. In real life, my aunt
died one week after I brought my twins home from the hospital. She called almost daily while they
were in the NICU. The day we planned to visit her, she died. The day before her death, she called
and left me a message, but I was too exhausted to return her call. I've always regretted this.
I can see myself crying now, watching as the tears are making lines of my mascara. Then, I am
staring at a canvas and there is a multicolored pastel line brushed across. Suddenly, another line
starts to emerge from the middle, like a line on a palm. As this is happening, I'm pleading with God
for some resolve for my failure to make a connection with her before she passed away. Then I'm
seeing myself bringing the twins to her house, and somehow knowing, or at least hoping, she could
live. It was like I relived the week before she died again, knowing there were opportunities to
visit her that I didn't take. Times when the babies were asleep.
Tears continue to pour from my eyes.
Then I'm standing in a bathroom, staring at the corner behind the door. The door is halfway open,
leaving me to stare at a triangular shape. The walls are a stark white, void of any paintings or
life. Then a realization hits me, but it's hard to put into words. I am overcome with sadness,
feeling the emptiness of all the people in my family who have passed away. That it was up to my
parents, and other family members to all play crucial parts in my upbringing to shape who I've
become. With nostalgia, I looked back at my childhood and realized how happy I was. Then I realized
I had taken their places, and it was now my turn to be a "shapemaker" to the children in my life.
I continued to cry.
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Date of dream: Friday, May 27, 2005
Level of Lucidity: N/A
Level of Cohesiveness:
This dream has been viewed 1301 times.
My husband and I are staying in a house that is for orphaned children. I remember seeing their
faces, as if through a TV screen. They're all bunched together and look forelorn. I start to think,
"It's so sad they never had mothers to nuture them, to breastfeed them." In the dream, I was so
concerned that these children were never breastfed.
Now I am in a room with my husband, a wooden room, floors, walls and all. I am holding two rats and
I'm convinced that these are the children I have adopted. I feel strongly towards the rats, like
they are my old children. And, at one time, I am sulking because I cannot breastfeed them! (strange)
One of the rats is having a hard time. He keeps falling from my hands, or jumping, but he keeps
getting hurt. I am so concerned for him. At one time, he falls and doesn't move and I become tearful
and angry that he wasn't taken care of better.
There is a crack in the floor. He falls through and somehow I know he will be safer down there,
because there are other rats to care for him, better than I could.
The next dream was also motherly. I was in the Cheney House again, and this time there were girls I
went to school with there. They were younger than me. One, girl, Melissa, seemed to be a mix between
other girls, but predominately her.
I was walking around with Melissa. I go into a bathroom and make a hot bath, but get distracted and
forget about it. When I re-enter the bathroom I see that there is water everywhere. Steaming hot
water, rippling on the floor and pouring out of the door. I go to turn off the bath water and to
pull the plug. Yet, when I do, I see that the water has dark muck in it. I'm afraid to reach my hand
in there, but luckily, the plug has already fallen out.
It is later and I run into Melissa's mom. She asks me, "Did Melissa tell you she's pregnant?"
Right away, I'm alarmed that she didn't tell me. I see TV screens, suspended in the air and a
message on one that says: "Melissa is pregnant. Don't tell anyone." (ha)
So, I run to find Melissa, wondering why she didn't tell me when we were together. I can't find her,
so I go back to the room I've flooded and start putting items back in a closet (I guess I had to
clean it out after the flood). When I put a large bag in, I hear someone crying. I realize there's a
person in the closet, so I quickly start to take out items.
It's Melissa. She's sitting on a pile of clothes, her head tucked into her knees. Only now she looks
like she's a child, a one year-old. In my dreamy brain, I'm trying to figure out how she could be
pregnant at that age. I take her hand and pull her out of the closet.
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