Date of dream: Monday, December 17, 2007
Level of Lucidity: N/A
Level of Cohesiveness: 
Lucid Intent? No
This dream has been viewed 4008 times.
I was in my bedroom and it was morning, the sun shining though my windows were covered; my room was in dingy grayish tones. I was on my bed, facing the main part of my room, and I noticed that a big spider's web had been erected right in the section of room that I walk through to get to the door, and a smallish spider was resting upon it. I remembered that, every day, I would have to destroy this spider's web just to exit my room, but every day the spider would rebuild it, and we'd just settled on this odd little relationship as normal. I was contemplating leaving my room as I stared at the spider, and I thought, surely I could find a way to exit my room without destroying this poor thing's hard work every day. (Apparently, the web wouldn't be in the way of any other activities I do in my room, as this thought never occurred to me, even though it would definitely impair just about anything I'd choose to do--this was a HUGE web.) I felt kind of guilty having wrecked the web so many times before.
As I thought of this, I noticed there were two spiders on the web. Then three. Then...more. And more. And MORE. Cripes this thing was now LOADED with spiders of all sorts and sizes! First I was puzzled--I hadn't known that spiders would share a single web, much less different species of spiders--but then I started to get kind of skeeved out. I mean, this was a LOT of spiders, and some of them were BIG. In particular I recall one with shiny black fur--it wasn't as big as a tarantula, and its body wasn't as fat, but it was close. I should say that none of the spiders were being menacing in the least--they were just sitting or crawling around on the web as placid as could be. But I was getting really nervous just looking at them.
"Okay," I said at last, speaking to them aloud, "I think this is getting a little overboard...there's definitely a few too many of you here. I don't mind you guys, but I need my space, and some of you--especially YOU--" and here I pointed at the shiny black hairy spider "--are just downright creepy!" As if to emphasize the point, one of the spiders slid off the web and landed either on me or on the bed, and that was the last straw--I squeaked and hurriedly brushed it off onto the floor. Another one landed nearby and I did the same, hoping that I wasn't hurting them, but still needing my personal space. In reality, I really DON'T mind spiders, and in fact like it when I discover that a new one has taken up residence in some corner or other, but I do NOT like having them on me or on my personal space. I really do shoo them off my bed when I find one there, and my reaction in the dream was a LOT calmer than it would have been in real life. (I have never encountered a massive quantity of spiders at one time! I'm sure I wouldn't take it well.)
I got up and squeezed my way past the web to my door; I can't recall if I tried destroying it or leaving it. In any event, the web swayed after me when I went out into the hallway, and one side must have fallen loose for it trailed out the door after me like a big blanket hanging from the ceiling (though the web hadn't been suspended from there, that I can remember). I squirmed and tried shutting my door without cutting it off, hoping it would sway back into my room. As I did this, I looked up and noticed that above my door, in the hallway, there was a section of wooden paneling kind of like that in the back porch stairwell and it was just CLUTTERED with old dusty webs. Really skeeved out and nervous, I quickly retreated down the hall and into the kitchen.
Like I said it was morning and the sun was shining, so it seemed to be earlier in the year. My mother was in the kitchen, dumping a load of colored pencils onto the floor for a project she was going to do. And I remember that she made some kind of comment that I had to ask for clarification on since it was obviously carried over from a conversation we'd started much earlier (she sometimes does this). She denied something, and I then countered this, leading to a small argument, which was normal but still irritating.
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Date of dream: Monday, December 17, 2007
Level of Lucidity: N/A
Level of Cohesiveness:
Lucid Intent? No
This dream has been viewed 4009 times.
This dream is from several days ago so it's much faded, but here's the general idea. This seemed to be part of a bigger dream.
I was being taken to court for some reason, and I guess I was the defendant because witnesses were to be called. I don't know where this was taking place; it was just some room in some building, vague, nothing noteworthy. There were other people present but I don't know who they were--likely the judge, and a prosecutor or whatever, and maybe I had a lawyer too. In any case, I can't remember what the charge was (if it was even a charge--I feel this wasn't really criminal court, but rather I had to prove something about myself, like in my SSI disability hearing), but two people were being called to my defense. And one of them was likely the Ojibwa author Basil Johnston, a favorite writer of mine whose works have greatly influenced both my writing and my personal views. The other witness, I'm not sure who they were, but I feel they were female, so perhaps she was supposed to be Ruth Landes, an anthropologist who spent much time with the Ojibwa in the early 20th century and wrote about their ways. I have a few of her books as well and judging by the experiences she recorded, she was regarded quite highly by many of the people she was in touch with since she was allowed access to many of their customs.
For some reason, Johnston and Landes(?) were being called to testify on my behalf.
I don't recall exactly why, but I feel that I had to prove that I knew enough on a certain subject--likely Ojibwa customs or something--to speak with authority. Not as an EXPERT, but...it's hard to explain. It was more like a personal thing--like I had to prove that I knew enough to speak with authority on my own terms. It's almost like Johnston and Landes were going to testify that I should stop doubting in my own knowledge and just believe in myself. I can't be sure of this, as much of this I thought of after the dream, but I can think of nothing else to explain it. In any case, who better to tell me that I should trust my own knowledge than two authors whose works I admire, Basil Johnston and Ruth Landes?
I seemed oddly detached during all this, only halfheartedly listening in while everyone else talked. I was preoccupied clacking my fingers over these smallish, offwhite or cream-colored tiles, roughly rectangular with rounded edges or perhaps oval shaped, and kind of flat; they seemed to be of clay or ceramic and were inscribed with symbols like runes. They were spread out before me and I was rapidly tapping them with my fingers as if I were typing. In fact, even during the dream I thought of how similar this was to typing. I think it was some kind of fortunetelling, but I can't be sure. I just sat here on the floor and clacked away at these while the others got ready to call my defense. There were some other details I can't quite recall--I believe I got the tiles wet, and there was a detail about mixing up some different food items to make some kind of thick paste which I believe was to be used to hold the tiles--in fact, that was how the dream ended, with me talking or thinking about this thick paste holding up the tiles--but I don't recall it well. I remember waiting somewhat anxiously for my witnesses to arrive, and I was both anticipating and dreading meeting Johnston in person. I was kind of disappointed that I didn't get to.
This is how the dream was described in my personal journal, along with the details I associated with it:
I went to bed sad as usual and had a dream. In it, I was being taken to court for some reason (shades of the disability appeal hearing?) and had to defend myself against...something. Two people, both experts on native (Ojibwa?) belief, were being called--to my defense. One was male, and I believe it was the Ojibwa author Basil Johnston, whose works I admire and which have heavily influenced my writing and beliefs. I mailed him once but never heard back...*sigh* The other, I don't know who it was, but I believe they were female, so perhaps they were Ruth Landes, a white woman who spent time among the Ojibwa in the early 20th century and wrote a lot about them. Anyway, these two experts were being called to testify that I knew enough on the subject to speak with authority--not as an EXPERT, mind you, but, as I interpret it, as somebody who's interested and whose views have meaning. While this was going on I seemed to be reading some kind of fortune or something with the use of small, flat, runelike stones or pieces of ceramic inscribed with designs--and my fingers were clacking over them like I was typing. I remember getting them wet and there was also something having to do with mixing up some kind of food substance. But even shortly before the dream ended, I remember thinking, how very much my actions were like typing. I suppose the two expert witnesses were going to testify that I had every right to do this without doubting myself, and to share what I know without second-guessing everything I say and believe. They were there to tell me that even if I'm not some kind of expert, my views and opinions are still valid and I should give them credit. At least, that's what I first assumed the dream meant. I figured it dug up the persons of Basil Johnston and Ruth Landes as authorities whose words I've come to trust as reliable, and made them my "defense witnesses" to tell me to stop doubting myself so damn much, and if I wouldn't do that, well, here are two people you DON'T doubt who will tell you it's okay to believe in yourself.
Please see "I'm Dreaming, Mom & Dad" for an update on this.
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Date of dream: Monday, December 17, 2007
Level of Lucidity:
Level of Cohesiveness:
Lucid Intent? No
This dream has been viewed 4060 times.
Please see "Basil Johnston For The Defense" for a possible precursor to this dream.
The day after I wrote down the journal version of that dream, I got into an argument with my father in real life, and one of the basic points made was that, since my hobbies and interests (including, by implication, my writing) don't make money, they aren't that important. There were some disclaimers, but the comment in itself was so hurtful that I cried off and on for the next day and a half, and felt terribly depressed. While I realize what my father meant, he doesn't seem to understand that my writing has meaning to me PERSONALLY--it's literally the only friend I have, and might be the only thing that sometimes keeps me sane, as well as the only thing that gives me the slightest feeling of purpose--so for him to say this basically said, to me, "The one thing that gives you meaning is unimportant, therefore, you have no use existing." My father doesn't know that exactly himself, but whenever I try to explain this to my parents they think I'm just being dramatic so there's no way I can let them know I'm serious.
Well, as can be imagined, I agonized over this a great deal and still am. I'd been thinking of the dream previously described as a sort of "sign" from my unconscious that what I do and believe in does have worth, but to be told this so soon after quickly deflated that hope. I wondered if I'd have another dream. I didn't until last night, and this is generally how it goes (I can't remember it well).
Firstly there was something to do with the band Collective Soul. In my dream they were a Christian band (I have no clue about real life, but their music seems pretty secular), and I discovered somehow that they were trying to thank me for helping inspire them. I guess we'd had some interactions online somehow and now they (though they seemed to be represented by one person, a male, probably the lead singer) had written up some liner notes or an online tribute or something to the people who had helped them, and I was included. I was surprised! They referred to me as "Tehuti Poet" or something like that (Tehuti is my online name). I guess I'd offered some suggestions that they liked. I was looking at something that was supposed to be part of this tribute but it was a solid object in front of me, large and black with lots of writing scribbled all over it, and maybe pictures pasted to it. They mentioned something having to do with their beliefs--like maybe what lots of music artists include in the thank yous of a CD jacket, stuff like "I want to thank God and my Savior, Jesus, for making this all possible"--I always find those notes kind of niggling, though the music itself isn't blatantly religious, so that's a personal flaw of mine. I felt a bit leery that Collective Soul was doing this, but it was just their beliefs, plus, they seemed like nice guys and they WERE thanking me. There was also some bit about them warning me about associating with somebody named "Toph" or "Topher" (no clue if it was the actor Topher Grace), whose name I had mispronounced; they said he was a "bad influence," so I wondered if he was non-Christian or something and also wondered what they'd think of me since I'm not Christian either. This comment made me feel kind of anxious like I thought I was being judged despite their thank yous. It was all very vague, sorry.
Well, the dream shifted, and now I was using some little calculator-like device which was meant to be like a personal ATM machine, and I was either going to withdraw money from the bank or just checking to see if any of my SSA money had been deposited yet. I seemed to be in the living room, on the floor near the front window, facing it. This device looked like those old-fashioned clunky calculators or "number crunchers" that had the paper roll on them. There was a little LCD or digital screen. I kept trying to type in certain numbers and it kept not working out. I was confused about what number exactly I was even supposed to be typing. I then thought, I should be typing in my PIN number, so I tried that. I seemed to get it wrong a few times until I concentrated really hard, told myself what it was (I believe I did have the correct number that I use in real life, but I don't think I typed it in correctly each time), and slowly typed it in. And...I could NOT type it in right!
I kept either typing in the wrong numbers, or the numbers would change. I typed more carefully. And I noticed that even when I DID type the right number, the wrong number would show up on the screen! For example, if I tried typing in a "3," a "4" would show up instead. Then when I would type one number, two or more would show up on the screen! And it didn't matter if even the first number was right--if I used the "backspace" to get rid of the extra numbers (the calculator/ATM apparently had this function, similar to a word processor), the first number, previously correct, would then change! There was simply no way for me to get the number right!
I started crying and getting hysterical about this until it struck me...there was no way I would be HAVING such great difficulty typing in a number...unless I was dreaming. And then I went semi-lucid (the kind of lucidity I tend to get, in which I'm aware that I'm in a dream, but don't seem to be aware that I'm lying in bed sleeping--it's like the dream is its own reality).
Much of the rest of the dream consisted of me trying to convince my parents, who were both present, that I was in fact dreaming all of this and they were part of it too. Dad seemed neutral and unconcerned. Ma would not believe me. She seemed distant but vaguely irritated by my insistence. I insisted that I could not type in the numbers without them changing and that was a definite sign of a dream since "You can't read the same thing twice!" She didn't buy it. So I decided to try to prove it to her by purposefully manipulating the dream. I can't recall all the things I tried (of which there were at least two or three), but I do remember one.
We were in the dining room--I was in front of the computer, and it seemed to be night. Ma was standing near the phone. I said, "Pick up the phone and listen to the weird noises it makes!" Our phone is in fact functioning properly in real life at the moment, but I made it so that when Ma picked it up and put the receiver to her ear, she heard these squirrelly weird staticky and whining noises like a bad Internet dialup. It shouldn't have been making such noises. She hung up. "Now pick it up again and listen to how nice and clear it sounds!" I said, and she again picked it up, and I concentrated really hard, and I heard the regular, clear dialtone that it should have been making. I gave her a superior look, as this was obvious evidence that I was CONTROLLING everything happening around us, but she still didn't seem to buy it. >_< I tried a couple of other things similar to this though I don't recall what they were; maybe I had her read something and then I changed it, like a newspaper headline or something. These efforts all involved me showing my parents something and then changing it in a way that couldn't be done in reality. But they weren't that impressed.
Perhaps I gave up on this attempt or else lost interest, but at some point I noticed that the sun was setting (though earlier it had seemed to be dark). The sky was deep pink and there were a few bright clouds still lingering in a view I shouldn't have had out one of the north windows. "I haven't even tried flying yet!" I exclaimed in surprise, since, well, it was a lucid dream, and what do people usually do but try to fly? I had thoughts of going up onto the roof and jumping off--I felt my parents would react with shock and try to stop me, but I was so confident that I could do it without injury! (Very remarkable, even for a dream.) I started making plans to do just this and to try to go flying before it got too dark. But clouds started rolling in and it was threatening to storm, a thunderstorm. This didn't deter me; in fact, now I was set on going out and flying amongst some real live THUNDERBIRDS!
"I would love doing that!" I thought aloud as I made my way around the house, getting ready. It was a dream, so I knew all I had to do was concentrate really hard, and the Thunderbirds would reveal themselves, and I could fly right along with them. Perhaps I could even become one myself! Though as soon as I thought that, I hurriedly checked my enthusiasm, telling myself that to set myself up too high could result in disaster, if only because it would be bad luck to insult the real Thunderbirds so. I could just satisfy myself with flying amongst them, or else riding upon one's back. I was still trying to decide which I would prefer when I went into the utility room to find my boots.
Ma was helping me look for them since they seemed to be lost. I guess I really needed them. I did find one boot, but only one, and perhaps the wrong one; I think it was shiny and red, whereas my boots are black. I was growing despondent of ever finding them when I passed into an alternate utility room which was like the same room, only in a parallel dimension, and with slight differences. It seemed to be located right next to (north of?) the first utility room since I was shouting back to my mother and she could still hear me. I feel she didn't want to pass into this other dimension because she of course had her own to reside in, but, knowing that it was a dream, I freely did it myself without fear.
Ma said that she couldn't find my boots. I was disappointed at first, but then called out, "Well, all I have to do is find them in this utility room, right? And that'll be just as good!" She was skeptical, but I brushed it off. At first I thought I would still have no luck but then I told myself, just WILL the boots into appearing, and bam, there they were, and I cheerfully picked them up. I'm guessing that I had more dream control in this alternate utility room than in the first one. *shrug* Now that I had my boots I was just about ready to go off and fly with the Thunderbirds. It was so exciting!
I never got to actually fly, but the tone of the dream puzzled me when I awoke. It seemed almost compensatory in a way. In reality my father's comment about unimportance had really crushed me, and then along comes a dream in which I realize I control everything and even decide to go flying with Thunderbirds--and the only real qualm I have is that I shouldn't puff myself up TOO much lest I offend them. That kind of certainty is rare for me, even in a dream. I'm wondering if this dream was an attempt to bolster the feelings of self-confidence which the earlier dream ("Basil Johnston For The Defense") had sparked in me. I also wondered if the appearance of the band name "Collective Soul" had a deeper meaning.
Of course, now I'm probably going to be severely disappointed or crushed again in real life...I can hardly expect dreams to keep affirming my wavering self-worth. *sigh*
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