I Dreamt I Was Dead

Today is Saturday, October 16, 2010. At 6:45 a.m. this morning, I woke up, made some chamomile tea, and drank it at the computer where I checked my emails and answered some, made a brief pass over Facebook posts, and scanned The New York Times. I noticed an article announcing that Peter Jackson had finalized a deal to direct "The Hobbit."

At about 7:45, Judy my wife was getting up, while I was about to return to bed to sleep more after drinking a full mug of chamomile. By 8 a.m., I was in bed asleep. I woke up around 10 a.m., walked out into the living room, greeted Judy again, then walked to the kitchen and fixed some coffee. I took my coffee to the computer and looked at my home, The New York Times. It hit me like a brick. There on the front page was a bird's eye shot of an area in New York, where there were buildings and green tress. One of the most powerful lucid dreams that I have ever had in my life came back to me in a flash, jump stared by the photo of the cover of the The New York Times.

I turned to my wife Judy, who was writing in her diary on the couch and I said, "I had a dream this morning that I was dead. It was the most lucid powerful dream I have ever had," I told her. She put her diary down. "I was floating between earth and space. I was alone. There was nobody around."

Then, I told her my dream: I was in this city scape that like run-down desolate landscape of grayish buildings with faded color. Drab. I walked in this lost vacuum searching for anyone, then I traveled at will to another place, like earth, a holding place. There were people but they did not see me, then I returned to the desolate semi-urban world, again completely alone. There was like a waste dumping ground in the middle of nowhere; it was made of drab colors and felt dead. I felt the death in the area and the lanscape. I was searching, not understanding, but it was so real, so lucid, so multi-dimensional (beyond three dimensions); and then, magnificent color came all around and people started appearing as I walked. They were in houses, rooms with enormous windows that had radiant light streaming in; people were walking outside together, eating, talking, they were even lined up sitting on the ground with their backs up against the fence waiting to play tennis next on one of two back-to-back courts. There were happy people everywhere. Nobody spoke with me, but I felt at home there with the color, the dimension, the people. Something drew me to follow a sidewalk through the buildings and benches, so I did. I walked through the winding sidewalk, around the buildings, and inside one of the buildings that felt like very few people went there. It drew me forward. The concrete, the buildings and level landscape disappeared when I arrived at the back of a building which was like a a drab apartment building. Before me was a voluminous canyon like the Grand Canyon, but it was filled with rich vegetation and trees and trees and trees as far as I could see. The color was magnificent. I felt the color and volume in my very being. Then, a flock of nearly a thousand birds flew across the great divide of the canyon. And I watched them.

Nine hours later at 5:22, I was channel surfing and saw a film on HBO, "THE LOVELY BONES." I read the description. Stanley Tucci. I remember the press about the book, which was a New York Times best seller and the release of the film. I did not read book, nor did I see the film. I did not even know what the film was about. So I thought, "wow, I am going to watch this, we missed it at the theaters." Judy was at the computer, and we could not put clothes in because someone else was washing. So why not? Innocent.

The first few minutes passed by in the film. After a three to four minutes, I knew that whoever directed it was a brilliant director. (not until the end did I realize that it was Peter Jackson, and that Steven Spielberg had exec produced it). Then, it happened. The main character Suzie Salmon was murdered and she was telling the story. She was dead! There were a series of subjective images from her pov and perspective. I sat on the edge of the couch and leaned toward the HDTV in complete disbelief and shock. The images in the film were my dream. I screamed out to Jude, "These images in the film is what I dreamed this morning when I came out here and told you that 'I dreamt I was dead.'" I had dreamt between the earth and the moon, an object in my hand floating in space that I had let and was trying to reach caught between two worlds in space. I dreamt and felt a drab world, empty, alone, searching, a waste dump site, colorful landscape appearing where people dissolved into it. And flocks of birds flying in the same exact formation as the film.

My dream and the film were the same. I felt the same. I was not just external images, but internal feelings, confusions, searching. And I dreamt my dream 9 hours before the film.

I did not know the story, had never read nor heard the story, the images, the characters before 5:22 p.m. on October 16, 2010 when I sat down on the couch and flipped to HBO.

Mile Marker 23

Saturday Night, March 20, I had what I call a "dream sense," if for no other way to describe it. It is a sense that I feel, more than dream. The next morning was the L.A. Marathon, which was very much on my mind. Mile Marker 23 popped into my being in my early 4:00 a.m. wake semi-sleep state. I thought that it meant "something" significant was going to happen at Mile Marker 23 on the Marathon, but lo and behold, nothing unusual happened. Then, at 5;00 a.m. this morning, when I awoke, it occurred to me that I am in my own personal Marathon with "The Ascendancy" and the Jacob's Bean Trilogy, and that we are currently awaiting, any day now, to hear from some major producers and production companies from submissions that my attorney made of both the novel and the screenplay. Tomorrow is Tuesday, March 23. Maybe, that is the Mile Marker for a significant event in this personal Marathon? Maybe we are going to hear something about "The Ascendancy" tomorrow? If so, it will validate my "dream sense" that I had two nights ago, which was very much like other senses that I had years ago. We'll see.

Strange Lucid Airplane Dream

Last night, I had a strange dream. My wife and I were vacationing in Thailand,, or Australia, a seaside beach resort community of some sort. We had discussed flying to another destination, but there was confusion and miscommunication. While with her in a grass hut-like recreatioal/bar area, there was an announcement over the P.A. system that the flight for Israel was boarding, and then they called three names. My name was the third name called, the announcement said that I was sitting in seat 6E, which was a middle seat. I remember not having any luggage, and it was a one way trip. There was some confusion between my wife and me, but I left suddenly and went to one of the airport officials, who was standing at the top of the stairs. I showed him a white piece of paper that had scribbled on it the name of Allistar or Alliar Airlines? He pointed down the steps, and I hustled down the stairs to catch the flight. The dream was lucid, full dimensional color, and seemed extremely stressful though the setting was tropical and relaxing. It was a flight from this Thailand beach resort area to Israel. I woke up in a hot sweat. The dream was really bothersome.

Another Night, Another Power Animal

Tuesday morning, September 8, 2009, wee-hours again, 3:30 a.m. to be exact, I awoke with a start after having a lucid dream about a large bear.

It was a forest, and there was a small clearing of maybe thirty feet, but the woods were thick and green. In the clearing was a great tree trunk laying on the ground. It was hollowed out, its diameter was 4' - 5' and about 20' - 25' long. It was weathered gray with age; it had no bark on the outside of it, only an ancient gray weathered rough surface. At one end, the tree trunk opened and there was light from the forest and the sky above filtering in.

I do not, however, remember anyone else being there, even though I had the distinct feeling that this was a ritual. I had to crawl through the tree trunk on my hands and knees from the darker end toward the lighted end that opened up. In the open end, there was a rudimentary swing of some kind, which I sat in and swung a few times, as if swinging beneath a tree's limb. As I got nearer to the lighted end, a large bear appeared. I managed to escape him, but he followed me through the edges of the forest. I returned several times to crawl on my hands and knees through the tube of the tree trunk, until the bear finally caught up with me.

The bear raised his paw, and scratched my face putting slash marks down my face with his claws. I could see the lines of blood on my face. I awoke with a start. It was 3:30 a.m.

The is the second night that I have been pursued by a power animal, the night before this, Monday at 2:30 a.m. the jaguar, this morning Tuesday at 3:30 a.m. by the bear.

A Power Animal in the Night

Sunday night, September 6, or I should more precisely say, Monday morning wee-hours, September 7, I had a shamanic dream. It was 2:30 a.m. and I awoke with a start. I had a lucid dream in full-blown color, sound and dimension.

A long-time friend whose name is Michael and I were were walking along a street in the neighborhood, where I grew up, Hollywood, Maryland. We were walking up a slight hill on the asphalt street just talking. There were a few people out and cars driving by beneath us on a parallel road. When we reached the top of the hill, for some reason, we had parted. My friend Michael was walking down the left sidewalk outside off the street. Between him and the street were grass and bushes. I was walking still on the asphalt paved street, but on the far right, when I froze in my tracks. On my friend's side of the street, right in front of him to the right was a beautiful jaguar. He did not see it; it not see him. Michael kept on walking.

At first, I was worried about my friend Michael, then as he walked by the jaguar and down the hill, I knew that he was safe; however, more importantly I knew that the jaguar not only was not interested in him, but also did not see him. At that moment, while I was standing frozen in place, the jaguar with its beautiful spots (at first, I thought that it was a tiger, then a leopard, then I knew that, for sure, that it was a jaguar) looked up at me. It was beautiful, powerful, threatening. It began to move toward me never taking its piercing eyes off of me. I ran to a nearby tree, that was shaped like an oak, or the Tree of Life, and I began to climb to escape the jaguar. I climbed the tree to the first branch level and held on, but the jaguar came. It reached up with its great paw, grabbed my leg and pulled at me. I awoke with a start.

The dream was shamanic.

2009 Woodward Stakes at Saratoga Springs

Tomorrow, September 5, 2009 is the 56th running of the $750,000 Woodward Stakes horse race at Saratoga Springs in New York.

My friend Mike Lydon made his pick, Rachel Alexandra for 1st.

I am going with the following Prediction:

1st: Cool Coal Man

2nd: Rachel Alexandra

3rd: Da' Tara.

Let's see what happens.

A Grayish Weathered Acorn

This morning I had a dream, what was more than a dream, it was a "sense," more than, a "feeling." It was an image of a gray acorn, the roundness, the eye-like pupil up close and the central focus of everything around it; I do not even remember what else was around or near it. The color and texture were identical to wood on the side of a barn, where the paint has long worn off, where the rain and sun had bleached out the paint, the freshness was gone. The wood looked older, drier, and worn, like the acorn. The wood was splintering and gray as if the grains of wood were peeling away.

But this was not merely an image, it was a "taste." It was a "feel." It was a"texture" in my mind. I felt it it. It was part of me. Only for an instant, maybe one second. Another time that I had an "identical impression" was when I predicted the winner of the 2009 Kentucky Derby, Mine That Bird seven hours before the race. (see this blog May 2, 2009). I remember my dream "feeling" of Mine That Bird was of a charred bird. I tasted the bird, like I tasted this acorn.

I have no idea what this "acorn" structure means or will mean. Maybe, nothing. I only wanted to record here. I have learned to pay attention to these images, senses when they come.