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I find myself in an unfamiliar bathroom stood in front of a washbasin which has a mirror hanging above and in front of it, my Mum stands outside of the bathroom and keeps a low profile but she is accompanied by my little sister who stands on the threshold of the door more imposingly.
My little sister is giving off a very strong feeling without actually doing or saying anything but I somehow sense that she would like me to stop dithering and make a decision about something (what that something is is never made clear), I wouldn’t say that she was being oppressive but the vibration she gives off is very strong and almost parental in an overbearing sort of way but also firmly guiding.
I am looking in the mirror and see that my front right tooth has come out, in fact it hasn’t so much as fallen out but rather been snapped off. I study the tooth as I hold it in my fingers and see that it must have broken off numerous times in the past as it is covered many layers of dental glue, this history of continually breaking and repairing the tooth surprises me greatly from within the dream (partly because at some level I’m conscious that no such thing has happened in waking life). I wrap the snapped off tooth in some tissue in the hope that a dentist will be able to glue it back on again for me.
Suddenly the tooth to the right of the one that snapped off comes loose and falls out entirely root and all, I study the tooth and see that it looks very unusual almost like a fluted, ridged sea shell, there is brown decay on the tooth which creates a startling stripy pattern which is quite unnatural and very regular something like the patterned chocolate marbling on an iced cake (once again in waking life I don’t have any such problem with this tooth).
I start to panic at the large empty gap in my teeth and whether any more teeth are about to fall out, I turn the tap on to rinse the sink out and inadvertently drop the unusual seashell tooth in to the sink where it gets washed down the plug hole. At first I don’t realise what has happened but when I do notice that it’s disappeared down the plug hole I quickly turn off the tap and undo the U-bend pipe and thankfully manage to retrieve the tooth much to my relief. I’m under the impression that the dentist will be able to do something with this tooth too so I wrap it up in the same piece of tissue that the snapped off tooth is in.
The missing two front teeth look very unsightly and leave a gaping black hole, I have the feeling that I really hope that I will be able to find a dentist over the weekend so that I can have the teeth repaired and so that hopefully nobody will notice.
But I suddenly remember that I have a rugby match I’ll be playing in later on in the (dream) day (a dream memory) and it conveniently occurs to me that I could tell anybody who sees my missing teeth that they got knocked out in the rough and tumble of the rugby match. In my dream logic it seems that I could turn something that was a disadvantage and an embarrassment into something that would make me seem tough and rugged.
A good 99% of me feels really happy about transforming the story of my missing teeth in this way, it seems clever, convenient and harmless and a way to save face, but there is a tiny nagging doubt in the back of my mind which makes me feel dishonest for making up such a story.
Thoughts: I haven’t had a tooth falling out dream for a long time now and although there are many
interpretations and definitions for these kinds of dreams in books and on the internet they still continue
to puzzle me, the dreams always seem to have an air of sadness about them or maybe that should be
more despair and anxiety. The fact that I made up the tale about how I lost the teeth in my dream
made me very happy and seemed like a great way to turn something embarrassing into something
more positive or potentially attractive….if that makes any sense. In waking life that idea seems a little
bit preposterous but I can also kind of see where my subconscious is coming from. The feeling of
deception seemed very significant and was the last real key point of the dream, perhaps the dream
drama represents the insecurities I have about myself and the fears I have about not only my public
appearance but perhaps more importantly also the things I say as well, as the focal point of the dream
seemed to revolve around the mouth and hence the source of ones voice and the things one says.
Dream 1: The first corner is always the hardest – It is daytime and I find myself firstly as an observer
and then a participant at a motorcycle road race which is taking place in a city, the closed course is in
the style of the Monaco or Macau Grand Prix. As the race gets under way there is a mad rush to be at
the head of the field when entering the first corner, I watch as there is a terrible accident as one rider
goes down and skittles many of the other riders over with him. Amazingly the rider who I have had my
eye on and with whom I share a certain duality manages to weave his way through the carnage and
take the lead sat astride his yellow Triumph racing bike, I start to become more involved in things from
his perspective and feel the electrifying excitement of being in first place at the front. I soon realize
though that being in such a position is nerve jangling but in an exhilarating sort of way, in order to lead
the pack and hold that position it seems that one has to ride at the absolute limit and on the edge. The
road I’m riding along eventually comes to a fork in the road at a particular point in my childhood
hometown and just next to where my Dad apprenticed as a young man, I appear to have two choices I
can either take what looks like a straight and simple short-cut or I can follow the corner around and
follow the circuit as normal. Like in the other dream from this night there are two ladies stood waiting at
this junction who appear strikingly like my Mum and little sister and just like in the previous drama my
youngest sister seems quite serious. I pause and want to ask for their guidance and whether I should
take the short-cut or if I should continue my way on the circuit, unfortunately they don’t seem willing to
offer me any advice so I’m left feeling confused and indecisive.
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It is daytime and the weather is very glorious and summery. I’ve been invited to the house of a group
of youthful women who all resemble maidens of various ages. I see that each of the females regardless
of their age are dressed a little like the principle characters in some fairy tale stories like Snow White,
Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella.
They walk me up to their house which is a beautiful countryside cottage situated up on top of a small
hill, we climb some winding steps which are lined with small bushes and flowers up to the front door
where we all pause for moment. From up here looking out across their property I can see that the
women have a beautiful and well kept English style garden. I can see lots of hedges, rose bushes and
flowers with neatly trimmed lawns. Although it is tidy it still looks quite natural and is very serene.
At the top of the steps one of the older damsels tells me that fairies come to visit the garden at night
time, as soon as she tells the story a little girl who is part of their group pipes up and says she doesn’t
believe in fairies. I tell her in a fatherly kind of way that she has to believe in fairies, they aren’t
imaginary but real. I then explain to her that the fairies like it if you make tiny posies of flowers and
leave them dotted about the garden and on the path as they come to collect and pick them up at night
time when everyone is sleeping.
The girl seems enchanted by my story and changes her mind about and decides to believe my tale, I
watch as she starts making little bundles of flowers like in my story. In fact as I was telling the story I
believed it too. (I think that this had something to do with a childhood story I recall hearing from the
past where I was told that one should always leave a corner of the garden growing wild for the elves
We all head on into the house which strikes me as being familiar somehow, the house is made from red
brick which has been laid in such a way as to create patterns, the roof is thatched and the front
doorway has an archway made from the same patterned and alternating shades of brickwork. Inside
the house seems very quaint and cosy but quite normal with it. For some reason I associate the house
with one that belonged to a childhood friend.
I’m quite lucid and see one of these little key cupboards or cabinets fixed to the wall next to a coat
stand in the hallway, it seems insignificant but it’s a detail I note. I try to tip my head around the corner
to see what the rest of the house is like, I can just see a small part of the kitchen from where the door
is ajar, it looks very cosy and old worldly.
A little later on but still very much a part of the same drama I find myself in a large department store
with the group of women, they all go off to do their shopping together and I go around the shop to have
a browse around by myself. I enter into a section that sells sports materials. I stroll around casually
looking at all of the items on display.
I come to one stand, which is selling cricket items (just in case anyone isn’t familiar with cricket its a
bat & ball game vaguely similar to baseball). I look at a selection of packets that contain some wooden
wickets (a small cylindrical stick roughly knee high) and a cricket ball. The contents of the packet are a
little unusual in that the wood used for the wickets and stumps is made from a very dark wood like
ebony, even more unusual is that the ball is made from some kind of glow-in-the-dark material, it has a
pale luminous green colour.
I pick up the packet to take a closer look at the unusual assortment I see the price 19.85 written on a
little price ticket stuck on the front of the clear plastic packaging. For some reason the price seems a
little high to me (on waking the price actually seemed fair even though no currency was mentioned).
As I’m browsing a man comes over to join me, at first he has peruses the shelves but then strikes up a
conversation with me. The man is very handsome with dark black hair and lean sculpted features he
has a look about him similar to actors like Rupert Everett or maybe Hugh Grant. I also sense that there
is something very upper class English about him too and that he has had an excellent education.
The man would appear to have come into the store to buy a new hockey stick as I watch him picking
one out from a display rack. He walks over to me with his new stick and says “You know you really
should give it a go sometimes” (meaning hockey). My thoughts flicker and I visualise a scene of ice
hockey but I then sense the man dragging me back mentally to a game of hockey on a sports field as if
to correct my previous assumption.
He goes on to tell me that he is an accomplished sportsman in 51 different sports and games, I think to
myself “Hmm that’s no idle boast”. But it would really appear that he is a Jack of all trades, master of
And with that we are transported back to the maidens house at the beginning of the dream, only this
time we find ourselves in the back garden which is made up of a very grand and open lawn dotted with
one or two beautiful tall Scots pine fir trees. The rear of the garden is given over to sports and
relaxation. To my left I see a tennis court, in the centre is an open grassy area and to my right is
another games court for soccer or basketball, beyond this farther to the right is a hedge and a slightly
wooded area before a drop down onto a main road.
The dashing man is over on the tennis court dressed in his whites, two of the maidens are on the other
side of the net. He wants to show his sporting abilities to me and prepares to take a serve, he swings
and strikes and makes an ace. Its all in good fun and wasn’t meant to be a competition against the
women but more of a demonstration of his skills, after seeing the man’s display I start to believe him
about his sporting ability.
After the demonstration we all saunter down to where the basketball court is and have a light-hearted
kick around with a soccer ball. The ball is actually a bit unusual in that it is a bright yellow furry one that
is normally only used in doors.
I am really surprised to see that the Queen of England has joined us in the leisurely football game she
is slightly dressed down with a headscarf and outdoor country clothes. We tap the ball to one another in
a fun kind of way having a laugh.
Suddenly the Queen kicks the ball way up into the air and falls over backwards. The Queen’s skirt
billows up into the air revealing her large white pantomime style bloomers, the sight is quite funny but
we all hurry over to see if she is okay and fine, she isn’t hurt but just seems a little embarrassed.
The ball on the other hand has flown up into the air and over the hedge and into the main road, there is
lots of traffic rushing past and I’m worried that the ball will get squashed or knocked away. I tell
everyone that I will go and retrieve it so I rush off across the garden and down the steps near the
embankment. The sportsman calls out to me and tells me to come back and not to worry as they have
plenty more balls like that one or where that one came from.
I just recalled that I was also looking for a cricket bat whilst I was in the sports department. It may
even have been my reason for being there (can’t believe I forgot that detail!). I never really found the
bat I wanted, I was looking for something with a bit of weight behind it and long but all I found were
small bats for children, they looked a bit charred too as if they had been put on a fire and removed
before they had completely disintegrated.