So after talking with “John Jr” *waves at John…Another person I follow. I’ve decided due to my strange and wild dreams I would try to get a handle on them by learning the art of Lucid dreaming. So far, my attempt is….well….not working like I want. I do understand that this takes time to learn and even more time to learn to control. On the other hand, I think I might just be a quick learner. Will see.
Before going to bed I decided to do the count on my fingers to five. Feeling the fingers as I lifted them and counted “one”, “two”, “Three”, “Four”, “Five”. I had doubts in myself thinking there was no way in the world I could remember to count to five just like that in my dreams. Guess what? It worked, I did, but it didn’t go as planned. I had three dreams, in each dream I remember to count on my fingers…only draw back was it was the technique of counting on your fingers in your dream was to make you realize you were dreaming. *sigh* It did not work. I counted, touched my fingers, and counted to five. …each time there was nothing that was strange or wrong…nothing to let me know that I was dreaming until the dream was over. Counting on my fingers looked, felt, and was exactly as it was in real life. In fact so much so that in my last dream while counting in my sleep, I woke up still counting on my fingers.
Irony, I can’t remember the three dreams. But that’s only because I disregarded them due to them being boring…but I remember counting on my fingers.
So by the time it hit 2:30 in the morning I did my normal wake up….then went to sleep. (always seems to be 230 and 330) My next dream was between 230 and 330 am. When I woke up at 3:30 I actually jotted down part of my dream and here it is. OH and I forgot to count in this dream…
It’s not a meaningful or important dream….
I and other people were out hoeing weeds around the potatoes. I was to busy trying to prove I was a good worker that I had made a mistake and actually hoed up some of the potatoes, which were still way to green. Instead of telling our leader, this military type man of my mistake, I just went where the group was and started hoeing weeds. I was frustrated because I knew those potatoes could mean the difference of someone eating and not eating. The food in this world was lacking but I was scared and embarrassed. Another frustration was the hoe I was using. I was so wishing for the type of Hoe that we had on earth. I enjoyed the hard labor, the get down and work, the feeling of doing something. This one was more of a puzzle. You stood up tall, instead of leaning over. The handle went out about a yard, then there was a connector piece, then another yard or so of wood, then another connector piece, then another piece of wood about a yard, then finally a small piece of metal. I tried to hoe with it, but the more I tried to force it, the more the hoe would just bounce and barely scratch the ground. I remember the leader looking at me in almost a sort of smirk and a laugh as I tried so hard to use it. He never said anything. He never seems to say anything, which is good. Usually when he speaks…well it’s not good.
Then the dream went to a later time of that day. The area everyone slept, large walls with boxes at different levels. Each person had their own box, but it faced another box, but the box before it would be a whole box over or under the other one. (I really should draw this stuff out for everyone). One of the boxes had a young chunky boy with an attitude. He looked to be about eight years old. He was bout 4 stories high in a box, the area was wide open, nothing was closed up. He could swing his legs and hit the other box across from him. Had I been a normal person in this dream I would have been scared to death he would fall or slide out of the box and fall four stories to the ground. However, I was not normal in this dream. That was not my son…I do not have an eight year old, chunky son and in the dream there was no worry about children or other people falling.
On with the dream again…..
I was the only one in the resting/sleeping area when the chunky young boy looked down at me. “Mom! I can’t believe you drank the milk” He stated in a chiding sort of voice. “I glanced at him. I didn’t need attention to me or to him. I was still worried about the five rows of potatoes I dug up and that darn hoe. I looked up “hush!” “MOM! Why did you drink the milk, you know we are not supposed to drink the milk”. “Ssssshhhhhhh,” I looked at him “Hush! I can drink milk. I am allowed to drink the milk.”
“No were not!” He stated “When were you allowed to drink it?”
Aggravated I glance around and see our leader headed in our direction “Hush up!.” I look up at the young boy whom is my son. I’d really like to get my hands on him. Does he not know how much danger he puts himself in by not shutting up. “I CAN drink the milk” I stare at him. At this time the leader is next to me. I want to cower under something but I realize my son is suddenly in danger for being outspoken in any form. I know I have to get control of him or the leader will. I can see the leader taking in a breath and I realize I have to say something now before he does. “WHO DO YOU LISTEN TO!” I yell at the top of my lungs.
My son looks astonished. “The Cosmos” He states as if I had lost my mind. He states it like I’m silly for asking as if everyone listens to the Cosmos. “WHO DO YOU LISTEN TO!!” I yell again my voice suddenly full of rage “I AM YOUR MOTHER!” Suddenly my son is frightened. “MOM, I listen to Mom.” He almost whispers. “WHO AM I”, I state again as the leader looks at me.
“My mother” the child responds quietly. “WHO DO YOU LISTEN TO”….I state again…”you, mother” the child states almost crying. The leader looks at me and seems content and walks off. I almost crumble..If only my son knew how bad his spoiled little mind was. Cosmos? Everyone always listening to the Cosmos. Silly children, their suppose to listen to me.
Then I woke up at 3:30am….again realizing I had forgotten to count in that dream.