Tag: father

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Dream Journal

Good Reality-Master Dream, Asleep at Airbnb

Much nicer than last night’s dream, which left me feeling haunted. I deliberately didn’t save it.

I am becoming more powerful, together with my wife, upon learning the secret of controlling reality. Being fully one with what is, much like being crazy. Maybe it’s even the same.

It starts to act as contagion on others — including a blonde Australian in a garage. (The garage is like one in Palm Springs I visited with my first girlfriend, the one where the usurped former boyfriend lived.) It rapidly spreads, and everyone is just as powerfully able to control the world around them.

On someone’s recommendation, I visit Dad World where there’s an entire long apartment block full of dads that celebrate a father’s parenting.

Beyond that, this world’s version of a redwood tree park isn’t as good as our reality. A big ancient gnarled tree is encased in…

(darn, that’s as much as I got down)

Categories
Dream Journal

Encouraging A Young Girl’s Campground Waterfall Recitation

I’m in a house with my brother Patrick. The house is built with half walls, quarter walls. It’s modernist but neglected, and we are guests without a host. Reminds me of darkened apartments from other dreams, places I’ve lived where I’ve discovered unused rooms. Patrick takes up the task of picking a new animal to represent the Inca Empire, to replace the llama.

I’m later flying around the neighborhood, skipping along a narrow brick wall at the edge of a religious building’s property. Idly I fantasize of visiting each and all of the different denominations nearby. Reminds me of my childhood street in Eureka, California between ages 4 and 8.

I fly back to a campsite where we recently stayed, just off the road. I have to retrieve three items my group left behind because they “couldn’t pack it all” without my help. I have a view through pillars at the edge of the camp, and spot my mentor and his young daughter approaching. Unseen, I wait behind a waterfall window between pillars. The daughter begins a classical poetic recitation to an audience. I’m able to crouch/slide onto the floor in front of her mid-performance, giving her a reassuring nod and encouragement that steers her performance toward success. I can’t tell if her dad was withholding this kind of approval until the end, but I’m able to swoop in and give guidance she was lacking.