Dream WILD & Bondage

October 18, 2012

Note: Lay awake for more than 45 minutes planning dishes for the big party Saturday, deliberately; staying awake, mildly stressed, is ideal for inducing a LD. Finally began my relaxed breathing and awareness of my body lying so comfortably in bed and experienced some vivid hypnagogic imagery.

I’m outside at night holding the thin pages of a handwritten letter, my handwriting combined with my sister’s response, correspondence belonging to the reconciliation part of our huge argument. I’m testing to see whether or not I’m asleep and dreaming, in which case I shouldn’t be able to clearly see and read the words. No, I’m not dreaming because I can make out all the words on each line I scan, moving down the page. Now I’m holding the letter loosely between my fingers where they rest inside the hood of a car against the black bowels of the engine. I think it might be a good idea not to fall asleep that way, so I remove my hands from beneath the hood. I let my mouth hang open, deliberately feigning sleep as I sense my sister and her new girl friend approaching, intent on stealing the letter. I make a good show of almost waking up as they try and take it from me, but then seem to fall deeply asleep again so they can take it. They walk away and I smile to myself, very aware of my mouth. The letter is evidence of my love for my sister, who still doesn’t believe I really care for her.

Now I’m lying down, still outside at night, ostensibly on a sleeping bag, one of many people camping out. Originally, me, Stinger and Mami were sleeping in the large indoor “cabin” but it was so nice out I led them outside. I’m aware of Stinger lying to my right as I rest on my stomach, and of Mami beyond him (in WR she’s visiting and sleeping down the hall.) It is remarkably pleasant out here. My eyes are closed and I’m enjoying the sensation of wind blowing, caressing and gently lifting my long hair. It’s not a cold wind, in fact, the temperature is cool and yet warm, absolutely ideal, and it remains so even as the wind picks up, blowing stronger, and stronger. I am perfectly comfortable and aware of the moment, because this is probably going to be the last perfect day of the year weather wise. The sensation of the wind flowing over me is delicious but I worry that Mami might not like it and I wonder at how comfortable I am lying outside, technically vulnerable and unprotected from anything inhabiting the darkness, but it feels perfectly safe, and absolutely wonderful. I’m lying perfectly still, attempting to induce a WILD, and without thinking about it, at just the right moment, I rise out of my body.

Wow, that worked out well, a seamless transition from being awake into a lucid dream, or so I believed. There’s a problem, however. I’m floating above the “camp ground” and what look like electrical or phone wires strung on black poles barely discernible in the darkness. It’s unusual not to see any stars even above me, but stranger still is the sensation of fine sharp silver “wires” around my wrists that cut into my skin when I try to fly up and free of them. I clearly see these silver bonds that seem related to the electrical wires, but it’s very annoying and I will them to dissolve, to go away, but my intent doesn’t feel focused or strong enough, or they are just too strong. I soar swiftly up into the sky, stretching the “wires” taut, struggling to break them and enduring the physical discomfort I experience. I know I’m in my dream body so it’s very strange to feel restrained and the sensation of pain. Pain in a lucid dream! As I lower myself again to ease the pressure, I find myself wondering if a spell to dissolve my bonds might have helped if I knew one, maybe an ancient Egyptian recitation, because these silver “shackles” feel very resistant to being thought away. Then I hear Mami calling to me from below, “Mari? Mari!” wondering why she can’t see me. The phone is ringing and because I didn’t answer it she picked up the receiver and got out of bed to look for me. I realize my bonds have something to do with her and not wanting her to be frightened because I seem to have vanished. The best thing all around is to wake up, so I command, “Wake up, Maria! Wake up!” slapping my cheeks, forced to make a huge effort before I finally succeed (a false awakening) at which point I go to Mami and take the receiver from her and put her anxiety to rest.

Still in this vast park where we camped last night believing I’m awake, I follow a group of women into a round wooden hut with a ceiling that rises in the center. We sit on the bench running around the space and one of the women asks me where I’ve been camping. I reply “Here and there” not wanting to be specific even as I wax eloquent on how wonderful the spot was, telling them about the wind and everything but stopping myself short just before I say excitedly, “And then I went our of body” because I don’t know how they will react to that; I don’t want to make them uncomfortable or to put myself in an awkward position by having them all look at me as though I’m a flake. We were instructed to take temporary refuge in here from something, and now I seem to see why as through the slits in the vertical planks of dark cherry-brown wood I see the huge nose of an airline jet flying just a few feet off the ground heading almost straight for us. My God! I watch the jumbo jet’s snout graze the hut as it passes, but my relief is short lived because its tail is definitely going to crash into the hut we’re locked inside. I witness the dramatic impact and experience the building collapsing to the left around us, and it seems we’ll all be crushed, but a space remains and as the jet soars away I quickly leap between two boards and navigate out of the wreck with the other women following my lead. I stand looking after the monstrous plane and sense now why we were told to take cover. There’s a foreboding gray heaviness to the sky and atmosphere and I wonder if other planes have crashed and if some catastrophe is impending.

I wander into one of the buildings. I either am carrying or find a box of some old photos I took and remove one, then another, intending to arrange them in that corner, wooden bench, walls. But when I turn my head for a moment and then look back, the image of me in the photo vanishes. That’s weird! But weirder still is the new me that appears, imprinted onto the photo paper to the right and closer, looking a little older but still me. Amazing! I practice intending an image to appear and the colors its composed of seem to burn themselves onto the paper even as they rise out of it, but without any physical heat. I study photos of me in which I appear as a little girl, my hair lighter than I thought it was in these particular shots that move like a combination of photo and film as now in the series I appear sitting on the lap of a man I don’t remember, and it seems a little creepy because my legs are bare and I wonder if he’s excited by my weight on his lap. But what seems clear is that the past isn’t necessarily as I think it was or remember it and that it seems able to change and new me’s appear in what I thought of as static moments that would remain that way always, but obviously time and its moments are changing even as I do. A woman stops and asks me who the beautiful antique Victrola belongs to and I reply, “My husband. It was his great great uncles, and it still works, but we rarely use it” not adding what I’m thinking, “even though we still have diamond needles for it because it takes too long and the sound quality is poor.”

Dream Notes: Interesting how the “rushing wind” sensation of movement characteristic of the onset of an OBE happened in the dream. I was asleep and yet still very aware of my physical body (the car and its engine) and its lying down position. And even of my mouth hanging open as I slept? Fascinating how the reality check of words on a page failed because I could read them all clearly, but I only did a quick scan of random sentences. The silver wires manifested my thoughts, that I couldn’t concentrate on trying to have lucid dreams while Mami was visiting. How could I break free of self imposed bonds? They resisted my intent because I intended them there in the first place! I never strayed far from my physical body in this OBE/LD. The pain of trying to break free was a very real physical sensation. Wires transmit energy-electricity. I appear to have been tangled up in my own astral thread? During this visit, I have openly acknowledged what I have struggled for years to suppress, painful truths such as “I love my mother and we have much in common but we are also completely different people” even though my emotions, my energies, have been interwoven with hers all my life.

The Victrola strikes me as an obvious symbol of old (antique) ways of thinking that slow me down and mute the Sound-Energy of my soul.

The “sweat lodge” hut is interesting, but my reticence is also an antique reflex because more and more people, humanity as a whole, are opening up to OBE’s, etc. In this light, the jumbo jet flying so close to the ground strikes me as my Inner Self, vast and powerful and on a collision coarse with the my ego’s small fears which linger like the phlegm of a cough even after the cold virus is long gone. The disappearing and reappearing in new ways of images of myself in the photos is an obvious expression of the fact that I’m changing inside, facing my growing powers and how my perceptions of time and space are still too static and need to become more fluid, imaginative, so I can really start getting off the ground, both in dreams and in WR creative projects, hence the sense of impending plane crashes if I fail to lighten up in transcendent ways.

Sex on a Balcony

June 14, 2012
I’m lying in bed remembering/seeing this open air brick corridor that looks and feels totally familiar, as though I’ve been there before in dreams. I’m viewing it from just beyond it, looking north, the balcony on the right, the rooms on the left. It’s a hypnagogic image, my mind is still awake and I see a man I was attracted to once in waking reality standing by a door before walking toward me and disappearing. I know I’ve been here at least twice in dreams, but I don’t even like this man anymore, much less desire him. I want to walk up onto that corridor-balcony made of red bricks but the man I meet needs to be different.

Suddenly I’m aware of my body again. I’m lying in bed on my stomach, my right cheek on the pillow, a new position that felt so comfortable I couldn’t resist it even though all my lucid dreams have happened when I was sleeping either on my right or left side. I believe I’ve been awoken by my cat Whispers scratching insistently at something just beyond me at the foot of the bed. I also hear a strange noise. The feeling is sinister and I realize I’m dreaming. I have no desire to explore the creepy situation and easily will myself to wake up.

I wake up in the exact position, determined to enter a dream again. Already I’m seeing that brick balcony again, the hypnagogic image clear as day, and then I’m standing on it, the doorway near me on my left, the transition seamless. I’m looking out across a vast open landscape just beyond the balcony, at one sunlit area far to the north-west, while everything else is pitch black. Then that scene also winks out and there’s nothing but an absolute darkness beyond this open air corridor. It’s not frightening, however; it seems normal, and as I continue gazing out, the scene to the north-west reappears in stunning depth and clarity, perhaps a castle/mansion-like structure with a reddish brown pyramid-style roof the focal point.

There are about four other people there with me, male and female, and all of us are looking out at the vast open space beyond the balcony. The man I want to meet/conjure is not one of them; I’m barely aware of anything about them except their presence. Then I feel a leg pressing against my left leg even though there’s nothing but darkness beside me, followed by the sensation of a hand resting on, gently grasping, my left thigh. For an instant I wonder if I should be frightened or concerned, but I quickly decide it’s okay, that I’m helping shape, or bring forth, a man who will please me. Some measureless amount of time passes and a man steps out of the darkness on my left, perfectly real and independent of me, tall, solidly built, with a handsome face over short dark hair. He’s dressed as all my Guardian Lords are, in dark slacks, and his short-sleeved shirt is a fog-like gray. His features are even and firm, and I somehow recognize him, I know him, although he looks different from the blond Guardian Lord I’m most familiar with. I call him a Guardian Lord because he doesn’t feel like a dream character; he has a presence, an aura of command, of lucidity, most dream characters don’t.

He speaks to me, and I find myself leaning against the balcony now, facing inward. I understand he’s chiding me, in a serious yet not urgent or angry way, for being too clothed, even wearing boots. I understand he wants to see more flesh, which makes sense, because what I want from him is sex. That’s what we’re here for. Faster even than in the blink of an eye, I’m naked and his touch on the right side of my pelvis awakens desire in me, I distinctly feel it’s warmth, its sensation, and marvel at it, because I no longer experience it with such pure intensity in waking reality. I want him so much I can scarcely wait for it, and when he enters me I notice two or three other male-female couples engaging in the act around us. I see a blonde woman very clearly before me and slightly to my left, the whole scene as sharp as waking reality. It’s all very tasteful and graceful, utterly enjoyable. I can feel the pleasure but there isn’t enough pressure or friction, not enough motion, just a glowing physical ecstasy. I begin moving my hips aggressively back and forth. My partner is no longer wearing a shirt. I see his face and distinctly perceive and feel his bare chest (there’s a slight dark mark on it) the sparse hairs on his flesh textured, real; I can almost smell it. I feel his strokes now but our pleasure is motionless because it’s one—I experience his pleasure at the same time I feel my pleasure, a pure pleasure without borders. His expression is at once slightly smiling, serious and inscrutable, knowing and yet not at all judgmental, pleased yet detached. If I have to define it, I would describe it as the look of a man performing a service, and more than happy to do it, like some sort of dream world gigolo. And yet we are also involved in a deeper way, we somehow know each other, and the nature of our relationship on the Other Side makes him the right person for this particular scenario.