Sunday, December 30, 2012

Tautology- Yard Sale Dream

I had a dream last night.  A flying dream, but unlike others I've had ever.  Normally, there's flapping and not much altitude, yet a sense of profound joy.  But in this one I can move my whole body like a living bullet at any speed with will alone.  I think I'd like to get to Oregon for a visit.  As I speed up to 700 miles per hour over the Rocky Mountains, swooping low for views of the majestic landscape, it occurs to me that the journey will still take about two hours.  I decide to ramp up the speed to 2000 miles per hour.  But then it hits me: if even a pebble or hailstone is in my way it will be relatively like a bullet and kill me instantly.  I solve this immediately by putting up a concave shield of transparent willpower in front of my head to deflect any such nuisances.

Once in Oregon I flash forward to departure to come back.  I am in an old neighborhood in Medford where I used to live walking North down the lane to the local high school (not mine).  In the front lawn of the high school are rows of white flower bouquets arranged in a perfect grid, maybe a hundred of them.  I pass a man in his yard.  He is middle-aged, pot-bellied and looking defeated.  He is selling his white two-story house.  It's all stripped down and emptied on the front lawn.  On the roof of the house is a huge sign on white butcher paper with a single word written large with black paint-- "Tautology" (I had to look up what it means this morning).

At first, I'm so eager to find my take-off site (as ripping it up to 2000 miles per hour in a few seconds will leave a mark on the ground) and I start to pass the man by, but I think better of it and stop to help him unload his stuff.  He is putting it all out on the lawn in a huge yard sale.  He has a lot of stuff.

I think to myself "he might have better luck if he used my studio parking lot".  (This is an important element as it removes the house as a symbol for the studio).

I find a suitcase full of carefully arranged women's shoes.  I think "my wife has got to see these, I wonder if they're her size."  On one show, inside on the heel is a little gold circle with the number 12.  Then I find another suitcase full of DVDs, a bunch of old movies but also stuff that looks interesting to me.  One of them is "Back to the Future".

Interpretation
First off, don't ever underestimate the power of your subconscious.  The Generator, capable of creating an entire reality and making you believe it entirely without question.

This dream is full of beginning and ending symbols: back to the future, going to and from a nostalgic site, an old person wrapping up his life and moving somewhere new, a yard sale, a house being sold, and white flowers arranged like Arlington crosses.  I think it all ties into something I've been thinking about recently: stasis vs dynamism.  The resistance that the ego puts up against new ideas or new ways of thinking.  Why is it like that?  There is part of me that wants to go back to what is old and safe and sure, and another part that is full of infinite power and possibility (the flying young man).  I have to let go and move to the next thing with unlimited capability.

The type of flight is also notable.  It represents unlimited ability.  Why would someone with that power head straight back to the safest, oldest, most familiar place?  And ambushed at the end of the dream by something to keep him from going East, the direction of new things?

There are also a lot of folding back elements here, going back and forth.  Into and out of the house, a school with a symbolic cemetery on the front lawn, a trip home and back again, back to the future, things being bought and sold, young and old.

This happens with people.  When you have a new and bold direction or you pursue an original invention or line of thinking, the immediate and visceral reaction of most people is going to be resistance.  And often that resistance is quite stern.  Even violent.  Don't let it put you off.  Strong resistance is sometimes an indicator that you are on the right track.  Or at least a track to the next level, whatever that is.

Vague enough for you?

Other than that insight, I really can't disentangle this one.  Just remember that in a dream state time and order become all compressed to a single point.  Things are often in reverse order, like a mirror.

I get the sense that I'm missing something, I'm not seeing something.  It's right in front of my face and I'm not seeing it.  I don't mean the dream, I mean in real life.

If you want to see the location go to google maps street view of 812 South Oakdale, Medford Oregon.  The change is that the building in the dream is rotated ninety degrees counter-clockwise.  I am standing in the driveway as if it were a road that goes through the block.

Monday, December 24, 2012

Mechanism of Suggestion

It is right now 12:57am.  I am up after sleeping for four hours.

I keep having a recurring dream that I am in a foreign country.  It is beautiful, a sunlit patchwork of farmland and white stucco city by the seaside.  I have lots of friends and family there.

In one version of this dream, I was in the living room of a house, the warm sun of a skylight overhead.  Across from me was a council of three people, two women and a man I think.  I asked the truth of them, the truth of my existence.  As they told me I realized that their words were disintegrating me into a black dust, that the truth was waking me up and banishing me from this sunlit land into a dreamworld.  I didn't want to go.  I started to cry for help, but all that came out were indistinct yelping noises.  Finally I managed to say it, a single word, "HELP!"

I was woken up by myself saying "HELP!" super loud.

Last night I went out with my lovely wife.  We went to dinner with her brother and his new girlfriend, B..  We had Indian food up in Provo.  It was lovely.  I just love Indian food-- Tandoori Lamb and Chicken, Dhaal (lentils), Mango Chicken, Vegetable Korma, sweet bread and garlic bread.  It was quite a spread.  She was composed, articulate and down-to-earth.

Here is what I am listening to right now.


Each passing week I gain more control over my own mind.  The fear and panic grow less and I force myself to focus on positive mental images which I play on the screen of my mind.  How can things go right?

I walk out in front of my house, or my studio and I slowly pass my hand in front of my face, a bit of a Jedi wave, and as the hand passes I imagine in my mind how I want things to look-- new grass, landscaping, a fence, new siding, or whatever it may be. In my mind I make my world what I want it to be.  I am wiping away the old thing.  Those are physical things.  But that's pretty much what's left for me.  The important things: family and relationships are just peachy.  I have peace in my own household.  I'm getting along with my wife.  We are still in love.  My kids are responsive and kind to each other.  I really like my staff at work.  I've become more distant than in years past, what I view as a professional detachment, but I genuinely like each person.

The only thing missing is that I need a few personal friends.  I don't really have any relationships outside of family and work.  I'd love to get a D&D group going, or a few people to play wargames with.  Like it used to be back in Oregon.

Sunday, my wife sang in the choir, the Christmas program.  It was beautiful.  Our ward puts on a real professional program.  A musical number followed by a short reading.  Repeat.   But I couldn't pay too much attention as I was wrangling a four and seven year old.  Willow was asking us all to draw pictures of butterflies for her.  I just kept drawing one after another and in-between making notes on my to-do clipboard for the coming week: vids that need to be made, and people with whom I need to meet.

In my study I was watching Ultimate Spiderman and the kids filtered in here and there to be with me.  A lazy Sunday afternoon watching cartoons with the kids and eating leftover Indian food.  I'm reading my Dropzone Commander rulebook.  Talk about absolute bliss.

Later, my wife and I cloistered ourselves and wrapped the presents.  Shiny paper for gifts from Santa.  Her in a red sweater.  I managed to get through it with a minimum of grousing.  For eighteen years she's done all the Christmas preparations by herself, staying up until the wee hours.  Just these last few years I'm lending a hand as I'm not so completely swamped at work. 

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Regocijad!

About a week ago I had a dream.

I was in Ashland in winter.  As I was walking down main street, southwards, I happened across a parking lot.  A older gentleman came up to me.  He was dressed all in white.  He gave me a wooden skeleton key.  It had an exact shape and measurements.  I could write down the measurements and shape exactly if I wanted.  It was two and a half inches long and with the shape of an allen wrench.  Instead of hexagonal in shape for the cross-section it was perfectly square.  As I thanked him and began to go on my way he stopped me and said that it didn't operate like a normal key.  He then got out a squarish padlock and showed me how to use the key on it.  It didn't insert into a keyhole, instead there was a horizontal slot along the bottom.  The key went into one side and would slide over from right to left.  The specific shape of the key would then release the various tumblers and open the lock.

Then I turned to the East and I saw choir risers full of women choristers of various nationalities.  They sang Joy to the World.  Three stanzas in English and a fourth in Spanish.

Interpretation
I don't have this one.  It's not coming naturally. 

The key represents an idea.  Something that once known is obvious.  However, it's not an idea that is presently useful.  It's something that will be helpful later on down the line.  Wood represents peace or peaceful means.  This is a recurring element in my dreams eg Christ on a throne of wood.  The lock is a problem.  I'm being shown how to solve something so once it happens I will be ready.

The old man dressed in white is a temple worker.  However, what does he represent?  A person with a special power or skill?  An unknown benefactor?  He is someone who knows something, so clear and obvious, and he gives this knowledge without restraint.

The choir risers are generations, the lowest being the most recent.  Do they represent my varied ancestors?

The key is an ATM card?  That's a sliding lock.

Friday, December 21, 2012

Today is a New Day

Feeling down?  Here's something to cure what ails you!


Condition your mind so your life is a prayer... a constant prayer.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Icicle Fail

I was knocking off the icicles on the front of the studio today and one of them (probably a foot and a half long) rode the pole right on down to my mouth *SMACK!*  Gave me a fat lip and I was sure a cracked tooth, but false alarm thank goodness.  Hard to find a dentist not on holidays.

I ordered pizza last night.  My wife puts all the uneaten slices in a big ziploc bag.  That was breakfast and lunch both.  My wife drove me to work this morning and we happened across a young neighbor walking to work.  It was fifteen degrees out and a biting wind was whipping up snowdust across the lane.  Turns out he works about three miles away across town.  Hopefully he'll take us up on a ride from now on.  That's just ridiculous.

The studio is pretty slow over the holidays, but sure to pick up after Christmas.  I got in a game of Dropzone Commander today, or at least a few turns.  I'm going to learn that game a ton better and soon.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Mosquito Coils



Mosquitos were a big part of my growing up.  I spent part of my childhood in the outback of Alaska.  1979.  We were 112 miles from the nearest civilization, a shack that sold supplies.  No electricity, no running water.  My bedroom was the covered bed of a pickup truck with a pad, a sleeping bag, a kerosene lantern and mosquito coils.  And a giant stack of books.

Before going out I would have to cover myself head to toe with Muskol.  Even my hair.  It was smelly and greasy.

The trick with a mosquito bite is to not scratch it.  Just leave it alone or you'll make it worse.




Saturday, December 15, 2012

Friday

Since I gave away my car my wife has been taking me to work every morning.  It's quite a positive experience.  It gives us a chance to talk.  Sometimes we just overshoot the studio (it's only six minutes away) to talk a little longer, or sit in the parking lot.  I usually make a list of six things "that will go right today".  It helps me focus on the positive and get in an upbeat mood.  Sometimes I write them down.

Invariably, our now four-year-old daughter, Willow, comes with us.  She just stares out the window in wonder at the passing foliage.  Or sings along to a song on the radio.  We recently had a cute little "princess party" for her.  About five of her little friends from church or dance class showed up.  I did face painting-- butterflies and swirls.  Tamie really outdid herself setting it all up, making a little go a long way with decorations and activities.  I love that about my wife, she makes life special with outings, events and decorations.

Willow's older sister (thirteen year now) gave her a Hello Kitty blank page book.  It had a little padlock on it for which there was no key.  So, I brought home a pair of bolt cutters from the studio.  With intense fascination she watched me close them on the lock's U-bar and slowly squeeze them shut until *clack!* it broke off.  "Thank you daddy!"  Such a simple thing.

I don't listen to the news in the morning.  Anything political is temporarily just too much for me.

I'm just getting over a little virus that passed through the community a few weeks ago.  Nothing major just a bit of a sore throat.  I'm feeling healthy as usual, just eating what I want in abundance and variety.  I've cut out soda for a while now and I think that's helped.  I just plateau at a certain weight.  What's odd is that I'm starting to go to sleep earlier and earlier.  The other day I went to sleep, profoundly and completely, at 6pm.  And I'm up at four or five in the morning.  That's when I'm most clear-headed and productive.  But I need to get back on track, at least up until 9pm.