Is Life a Dream? by Lasha Darkmoon

Note. We sometimes publish “off-topic” articles and poems. This is one of them. If you wish to wish to make comments, post dreams or poems of your own, or speculate on the nature of reality,  feel free. Dream interpreters especially welcome! (Editor JSM)

Lady-Darkmoon2I had a dream last night which I would like to relate. I wish I knew what it meant, because I am convinced it has a meaning.

If Freud could interpret this dream, he would come up with a sexual meaning; no doubt about that. If Jung could offer his interpretation, he would dig up a totally different meaning: all nebulously mystical, and with much talk about the “archetypes”.

Please don’t get me wrong. It’s not vanity that prompts me to relate this dream. Everyone has dreams, and each person’s dreams are equally important to the person who dreams them.

I relate this dream only because it’s important to me, personally. If you have time to read this and tell me what you think the dream means, that’s fine. If you don’t have the time, that’s fine also. No problem.


I am in a Catholic church. Mass is about to start. The pews are full. The usual chattering and rustling of papers. The church bears no resemblance to any church I have ever been in. A kind of dream church.

people-in-pews_featureimageI am sitting in a front pew in an orange dress, leafing through a glossy magazine, something I never do in church. To the left of me in a white shirt sits a teenage youth; and his teenage girlfriend  sits next to him on the other side.

I am admiring a center-fold picture of an underwater scene: deep-sea fish with phosphorescent eyes swimming around in the green depths . . .  lots of coral and weeds and aquatic vegetation. Maybe the magazine is a National Geographical.

Suddenly the teenage boy says to his girlfriend, “Oooh, look!” and stabs his finger at the picture. His fingernail pierces the page. I turn to him reproachfully and say, “Did you have to make a hole in the bloody page?” (My exact words). No answer. The boy is embarrassed. His girlfriend gives a low titter and whispers, “Why did you make a hole in the bloody page?”

An uncomfortable silence.

I decide the atmosphere is all wrong. I don’t want to sit next to these silly teenagers for the next hour and pretend to pray. I need to get out in the fresh air! So I jump to my feet and make my exit by a little back door that leads . . .

castle-howard. . . into a high-walled garden with overgrown vegetation.

I can’t find any exit.

The walls are too high. There’s a hole in one wall, but it’s too small for me to thrust my body through.

I feel trapped.

I guess I can enter the church again by the back exit door, but I don’t want to sneak into the church again.

While I’m wandering round feeling lost, I discover these open French windows. They lead into a spacious, well-decorated room. This is obviously the living room of the priest’s house, which is attached to the church.

I enter the room . . .

As I enter, two housemaids or housekeepers in Victorian uniforms pop into the room from nowhere. They are the priest’s housekeepers. Most Catholic priests nowadays have these live-in housekeepers who cook and clean for them and do their shopping — usually one housekeeper, of course, not two.

Ha ha! ho ho! hee hee!” the housekeeper maids chirrup in chorus. “Would you like us to show you around, lady?”

They are like mad parakeets, their eyes popping out on stalks. They are obviously retarded, with a lot of screws loose.

“No thanks, can you just let me out?” I ask politely.

Ha ha! ho ho! hee hee! Come this way, lady!

They are elderly woman and look like sisters — like mad sisters in a Victorian melodrama.


We make our way through the house. Every single thing I say in passing through the rooms is met with crazy cackles and squawks of parakeet mirth. The Mad Sisters are quite harmless, it seems, but they are obviously totally round the bend.

I can’t help wondering how they can possibly look after the priest and do all his housework. “He’s obviously taken them on as servants as an act of Christian charity,” I say to myself. “For the love of Christ, he is prepared to be looked after by a couple of raving loonies who belong in a nuthouse! Hmmm . . .  how can this holy man possibly spend his days in the presence of these two birdlike imbeciles who can’t stop rolling their eyes and cackling uncontrollably like crazy parrots?”

I reach the front door and am released into the open by the Mad Sisters.

Goo-bye, dear lady, goo-bye! Ha ha! ho ho! hee hee!

I give them a farewell wave of the hand and step outside. With relief. Freedom at last! The outside world!

This is when I wake up . . . with a sickly feeling . . .  and with a sense of exhiliration laced with panic.

“Hey, where am I? . . .  What next? . . .  Is life itself a bad dream? . . .”

Is life a dream?

44 thoughts to “Is Life a Dream? by Lasha Darkmoon”

  1. “Did you have to make a hole in the bloody page?”

    It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what “hole” we’re talking about here. “Bloody” also offers us a clue. I don’t think this refers to menstruation. It refers to forcible rape, I think, especially of a young girl. Maybe by child abuse.

    Maybe Darkmoon is telling us something about her childhood.

    As an ardent admirer of Freud, I can tell you that this dream is definitely all about sex. The two Mad Sisters symbolize sexual frustration. Repression. Remember they are “Victorian” housemaids. And they’ve gone mad because of sexual repression.

    Lasha wants to “get out of the House” where the sexually repressed sisters are. She also wants to escape from the Catholic Church with all its rules and restrictions. She probably lives a nunnish life and is getting sick and tired of it. She wants a bit of action, a bit of you-know-what.

    And yet, when she gets out in the open air — away from the Catholic Church and its sexual repressions symbolized by the mad Victorian housemaids — she panics. She thinks she has entered a worse dream!

    That’s my interpretation.

    This dream is all about sexual repression and the fear of giving free rein to one’s libido.

  2. As an ardent admirer of Freud, I can tell you that this dream is definitely all about sex.

    Good try, Zakky. Did anyone tell you that you’ve got a dirty mind? Your sex-crazed mentor Freud would have been proud of you!

  3. Its impossible to interpret a dream in a contextual vacuum. Only close friends and family, or others who know you well could give you clues. The best interpreter of the dream is yourself, not a Rabbi (“analyst.”)

  4. Lasha Darkmoon, my own interpretation of your dream – as I might try to interpret its meaning for MYSELF – is as a message which coneys to us how we might be surprised at the vehicles (those crazy housemaids) of our deliverance from an unwanted venue/reality. Your dream may represent your unconscious realization of wanting to escape some reality you endure in [this] life, while not being too certain of the means by which [that] escape is possible…

    Anyhow, dear hostess, this is certainly a departure from your normal postings! lol I enjoyed the read! (Do this more often.) 🙂

  5. Lasha, this dream you had was not about sex at all.

    The young man sitting next to you had a white shirt on. White is symbolic of divinity.

    The picture you were looking at had fish. Fish is sometimes symbolic with Christianity by some.

    The young man tried to tell you something when he poked a hole in that picture.

    When you exited the church you also found a small hole in a wall that you couldn’t get through.

    You then entered through the French Windows and found a mad house.

    The answer to the interpretation of your dream is in the Book of Matthew 7:13,14:
    “Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leads to life, and few there be that find it.”

  6. “You are taking this daydream as reality because the duration is long. At night when you dream, the duration is just half an hour. But this daydream lasts for twelve hours or more. That is the difference. This is a twelve-hour dream, and that is a half-hour dream—but actually both of them are dreams. Because one is a twelve-hour dream, you are accepting it as real. That is called illusion.”

    The Night-and-day Dream

  7. who said the Grail of Christ has to follow human mentation?
    Entire worlds wonder about that poke in the remaining eye, not the blackest hole around these parts. I guess most that would pay the attention to that stuff are probably looking like crazy dead stuff that never stays put.

  8. darkmoon, bitch on heat who wants to get laid by the jews and is a jew-lover in real.

    one big cheater. don’fall for it for all the so called jew-haters

  9. This is not your dream. It is your subsequent recasting, elaboration and interpretation of it and as such only to be considered as fiction.
    If you are interested in examining your dreams you should (1) keep a pad and pen on your nightstand; (2) upon waking up, keep your eyes closed for a couple of minutes and quickly review your dream abstaining from trying to put it in order, make sense of it or ‘clarify’ it by adding descriptions (colors, associations with other memories) or comments (e.g., “not something one does in church”); (3) quickly write it down without embelishments.
    The verbosity of your dream as you describe it shows you have unwittingly falsified it.
    The Freudian interpretation of dreams is a crock, a charlatan’s revamping of Grandma’s Book of Dreams in which ‘blood’ means ‘money’ and “children” means “troubles” (not all that unreasonable…), except that with Freud any box-shaoed object is the womb, any bird is a phallus, etc, because everything is sex or incest.
    I agree with Ezra Pound’s intelligent comment: there are no passepartout keys. An object may mean something to you and something completely different to another dreamer. Ultimately you are the only one who should be able to decipher your dream. Additionally, a take off on Freud: just as a pipe is sometimes just a pipe, a dream is just a confused neuronal firing combined with indigestion…
    At face value I’d say there is nothing sexual in your dream. It seems to be about you being on a quest whose every stage fails to bring you to your destination but only to the next confined space: even the garden is walled in, so you push on. The church does not necessarily refer to religion but possibly to any kind of ‘confrerie” to which you don’t feel particularly attached, whose denizens are clumsy or ridiculous to the point of folly and among whom you see yourself as the only one truly ALIVE (dressed in red).
    There! But remember: this is not your dream and this interpretation is not worth anything… 🙂

    1. Of course it’s elaborated for the readers, but the symbolic framework is still there, and I’m sure Lasha is sincere and correct in her recognition of the dream having an importance and meaning for her life. otherwise she wouldn’t ask.

  10. Seems like an striving, or a sign of spiritual awakening that is happening or coming to you. I had a series of these sort of dreams at a particular time in my life. Mine were all Jungian, and Shamanic even though I knew little of Jung at that time.
    Orange dress: Buddhism or occult powers? A vivid dream in colour is usually a sign of a “real” meaningful dream.
    Doors: New openings, transitions, A way through.
    Fish: Deep layers of the unconscious
    Garden: is the inner life of the individual, the garden unkempt may reflect the dreamers former disappointments or fear of disappointment.
    Mad sisters: Chaos? I don’t know but It seems a very positive dream to me, and I think may be only one in a series that you may have.

  11. Look for the book. “A Dictionary for Dreamers” by Tom Chetwynd, published in 1972. It gives various interpretations and likelihoods of the of meaning of dreams, and makes it very easy to understand the symbols in dreams. It’s the only dictionary of dreams that I have found to be any good, (for Myself at least) It has a likelihood system based on stars, *** usually points to: **May point to: * could point to:
    Doors, for instance has 10 different interpretations, which may sound confusing but when put all together with the other symbols, and within the context of the dream, the dream itself becomes apparent. This book also has a very good explanation of the Archetypes: The great mother, The wise old man, The whole self, which will come into the sort of dream you have just experienced. The more you examine your dream the more you will understand.
    If you do have another dream like this and you want to know what the book has to say on the ( If you think my own experience has any credibility) various meanings of the Symbols, I would be happy to email them to you.

  12. I just searched for ‘A dictionary for Dreamers’, and was surprised to find it was still being published, I have reread it for over 30 years till it’s nearly falling to bits.
    I know what that dream you had means Lasha and I’m happy for you.
    Here is a review of the book.

    This is the 4th copy of Tom Chetwynd’s Dictionary For Dreamers that I’ve owned over the years. People kept borrowing it and finding it too interesting to return!

    The book is deceptively slim. ‘Deceptively’ because it’s extensively cross-referenced and uses abbreviations, which mean that even dreams of, apparently the least substance, often yield up a surprising amount of information.

    Chetwynd has drawn on the works of Freud, Jung, Adler and many others, all listed in the bibliography, and has isolated the meanings of 500 archetypal symbols from the indiscriminate mass of dream material. I haven’t found a dream book to compare with it, and it can help you to appreciate this life-enriching state which we all experience for such a large part of our lives.

    This book is part of a trilogy, the other two volumes being Dictionary of Sacred Myth and Dictionary of Symbols.

  13. As you surely know, we Buddhists believe the world is an illusion. Western scientists call it a “hologram.” Toshiyori thinks that implies a kind of “waking dream.” There is a Buddhist technique called dream yoga, through which — while asleep and dreaming — we strive, without awakening, to become aware that our “experience” is a dream. May I suggest that you research this approach? For, of all your many respondents, I think “Ezra Pound” was the best. Jung, having passed from this world, cannot assist you; Freud was merely a fraud. Only you can interpret this dream. God bless.

  14. without commenting on darkmoon’s dream (feel distinctly unqualified) i have a remark of general nature.
    first of all, dreams do seem to have some sort of visual vocabulary, like sign language, which needs to be translated into language of the consciousness, ie, our everyday medium in which we correspond in these threads.
    visual symbols can mean different things, depending on the all important context, just like in ordinary language.
    the meaning of dreams can presumably span the width from profound to psychobabble but the meaning is subjective to the dreamer.

    what puzzles me is this.
    most of the time i have trouble remembering anything other than the fact that i had some dream, that it may have been colorful, full of action and that it affects my mood.
    in fact, the core of the puzzle is that moments after waking up, i hold the dream in my focus but it disappears quite visibly, quite like watching water gurgle, swirl and disappear down the drain.
    within seconds, i remember nothing, its transit time is exceedingly brief, like car going through a carwash, it emerges fresh, clean and dry moments after.

    it is this mechanism of forceful, purposeful forgetfulness that intrigues me.

    i know that there is a surgical drug, a mental anesthetic that is administered to patients who must be awake during a procedure, they are quite aware of pain and discomfort, they curse, yell and grunt but after it is over, it is over, they don’t remember a thing.

  15. Sometimes what we perceive as ‘dreams’ can be what is known as ‘remote viewing’ – but not in MOST cases, such as this one of Dr. Darkmoon’s. Hers is symbolic only to herself, who is affiliated to Catholicism; and who is, apparently, hemmed-in by circumstances peculiar to herself. What the person, ‘ariadna’, said, is as accurate as it gets. The rest – including my own – is idle speculation.

  16. “in fact, the core of the puzzle is that moments after waking up, i hold the dream in my focus but it disappears quite visibly, quite like watching water gurgle, swirl and disappear down the drain.”

    The same as happens to me now, but at one stage of my life I started having vivid dreams full of Jungian symbolism, which I remembered very well, as does Lasha remember her dream vividly. Even though I had no knowledge of Jung’s dream analysis at the time. Later on I had precognitive dreams that played out in real life the next day. As I still remembered the dream. One of the dreams very elaborate, and something I had no conscious knowledge of. Deja vu?
    When I went to the library to try and decipher my symbolic dreams I couldn’t find any book of interest, so asked the Librarian. The Librarian without a word, went into the back room and came out and handed me the book “A dictionary for dreamers” and still without a word went away and didn’t come back. I still have the book.

  17. From John Scott Montecristo (Lasha’s cousin):

    Lasha is unable to write herself to thank you for your various interpretations of her dream. (Unfortunately she’s not very well at present and has been advised by her doctor to stay off the computer). Basically, Lasha agrees with Lobro that most dreams are impossible to remember. However, she says that certain points need noting.

    First, we must distinguish between (a) dreams we have during the course of the night and (b) the final dream we have just before waking.

    The (a) dreams must be jotted down instantly on a pad in the torchlit darkness or they will vanish down the memory hole as one sinks back into sleep again. On the other hand, the (b) dreams can be remembered more easily, without jotting them down, if one lies in bed and reviews the entire dream in one’s head … and then gets up and has breakfast, while still brooding on the dream.

    The dream Lasha related here belonged to the (b) category. It wasn’t jotted down hastily (as Ariadne suggests it should be) because there was no need to do this. Lasha had just woken from sleep. The dream was fresh in her mind. It was morning. And she fixed the dream in her memory by lying in bed and going over the dream again and again in her head.

    Lasha strongly believes that exceptional dreams are always remembered, whereas trivial ones are rightly forgotten. She says that people who make a point of jotting down their dreams get much better at remembering their dreams. It’s all a question of practice. The more you do this, the better you get at it.

  18. My own interpretation of the dream is this.

    Lasha no longer feels comfortable as a member of the Catholic Church. She wants to get out, but is terrified of what awaits her in the Great Beyond…. She feels she could be stepping out of the Little Chaos into the Big Chaos….. She wants an anchor, she is clinging desperately to her childhood illusions…. She feels philosophically deracinated.

    This is the interpretation of someome who actually knows Lasha personally.

    1. The fact that we remember a dream does not make it significant. There are too many variables that determine our ability to remember it.
      Borges wrote a wonderful story called “Shakespeare’s Memory” (not translated into English as far as I know) in which someone acquired Shakespeare’s memory–exceptional memories are passed on with a proper acceptance incantation, implies Borges. It is an enormous memory that soon crowds out the man’s own. He is a professor of English literature and considers this event an incredible piece of luck: he will be able, he hopes, to comprehend Shakespeare’s work “from within” and write about it.
      He starts having a recurrent dream, not his, but S’s, in which a certain man the dreamer detests keeps showing up. He can see his face and he even knows his full name so upon awakening the professor starts researching all available resources to identify the man who haunts S’s dreams and who is not anyone known to any of S’s biographers. He realizes that identifying the mystery man who must have had a tremendous impact on S’s life and mind will be the crowning of his academic career.
      The search is frustratingly fruitless. Nevertheless, the harder he strives, the more blind alleys he bumps into the more he is convinced of the importance of the mystery man and the significance of the dream that keeps recurring.
      And now the bathos: in searching through property deeds and litigation transcripts in the British Library he finally comes across the name! The man was a … nobody: S’s next door neighbor who irritated him daily over a fencing post dispute. …
      This is a sideline in Borges’ story and not what makes it wonderful (which is whole other topic) but I consider it apropos in this discussion.
      Dreams can be just ways for the brain—on autopilot during sleep like a self-cleaning oven– to process and cleanse the dross of daily life.
      They can also be symbolic representations of deeper preoccupations (some people even have solved equations in sleep that seemed insoluble to them when awake). I would caution, however, against using them to “find out who we are” or as portends of things to come which our subconscious or our ‘collective subconscious’ can allegedly predict, as Jung (fallaciously in my opinion) claimed based on his dream of the globe in flames before WWI.

    2. monty, tell lasha that the fight is not over yet.

      grigory perelman is one of the most interesting people on the planet, single handedly solved poincare’s conjecture before more or less quitting mathematics and refusing some million dollar prize for his solution.

      sort of like bro nathaniel, he quit judaism and converted to orthodox christianity.

      “David, Perelman’s friend: “Gregory is convinced he has mathematically
      proved the existence of God.”
      “We’ve been friends since childhood, he is a deeply spiritual ascetic
      and a virgin monk, ” wrote the Komsomolskaya Pravda reader. “His
      apartment is heavily decorated with icons. He wears a beard and a large
      cross. He keeps rosary in his pocket. Even at night he prays. He is
      super religious, hence all his idiosyncrasies. More than that, he is
      convinced he has proved the existence of God. “

      i’d be fascinated to find out more, because this guy is for real, not a fake msm hyped up “genius” like einstein.
      there are other ex-jews like him in russia, like igor shafarevich who don’t have easy access to the echo chamber that drowns out all other voices in the enslaved west.

    3. “philosophically deracinated”

      Forgive my ignorance Montechristo. But does this mean say, detached from the moorings of what her particular race may indicate? If so, then I would say that is something to be welcomed.

      Think about it. If you’re a child in a loving family, even a Palestinian one in the midst of Hell on Earth, then by definition you are closer to being that little bundle of joy that came into this putrid World. The joy that’s so desparately needed, and whose greatest power is supplied by children. Although it can be said that with an unfaltering consistency of happiness we retain the inner child essence which defines the true self. The very consistency that evil seeks to destroy.

      But children don’t think in terms of race, or philosophy, or any other equally weak brands of Life. The childhood illusions you mention are interwoven with joy and represent the true reality we’re on this planet to help restore, but have largely forgotten, as Christ would tell it. And Lasha really has nothing to fear because hers is a strident voice calling out those joyless ones whose days are numbered precisely BECAUSE they are being exposed as recalcitrant cowards of Divine Truth.

      Come into this World joyous, and leave it the same way!

  19. If I may try to interpret your dream, here is my attempt.

    This dream is not about the reality or unreality of life in general but about your dissatisfaction with the Catholic Church.

    The Catholic church is this dream simply means the Catholic Church as an institution.
    You are sitting in a front pew, which means you always have tried to be a faithful believer. You wear an orange dress. Such a bright color (not really apposite in a church) denotes the desire for a more exciting life. It’s the same with the glossy magazine. That denotes the promise of the excitement of the worldly life. The deep sea in the picture means deep emotion. The wonders of the aquatic vegetation in the picture mean the wonders of a more satisfying emotional life. What it doesn’t mean however is what the behavior of the teenager denotes : his piercing of the “bloody page” means sexual licentiousness ( blood in this case means “sin”) and that is what you resolutely reject. Then you enter the high-walled garden, which is a symbol of the Catholic life in general. There is no real escape from it unless via the priest’s house. The old housemaids in the priest’s house and their erratic behavior mean the Catholic dogmas that are literally “old wives’ tales ” to you. You wonder how on earth the Catholic priesthood still can live with those worn-out dogmas. Then you leave the priest’s house (= the Catholic dogmas) with a sense of relief : “Freedom at last! The outside world!” But you still don’t know your direction : “This is when I woke up. With a sickly feeling…and with a sense of exhiliration laced with panic.”

    So you are dissatisfied with the restrictive Catholic life and you want more worldly excitement, but that doesn’t mean licentiousness to you. In this respect it is important to remark that in your dream you wear an orange dress. If passion would be your aim you would wear red. Red is the color of passion. Orange is the color “between” red and yellow, which is the color of intellect. Still you cannot leave the Catholic Church on emotional grounds alone. You can only leave it by rejecting its worn-out dogmas. That gives you a sense of freedom, but at the same time a sense of panic as you don’t know your new direction yet.

    I hope this is of some help.

    1. Franklin: Lasha has asked me to thank you for your brilliant interpretation. She says you are better than Jung! (She is unable to reply herself because she is too ill right now).

  20. It’s always been obvious most people hardly know Jung and his philosophy.
    The gilded intellectual atheist materialists cherry pick his unripened material psychology even as they reject (and hide) his maturing spirituality.

    Jung’s honest and accurate conclusions, after all is said and done, are a triumph of intelligence over imagination, rejected and stunted by those who cannot in reality bear his honest conclusions, his truth.

    Jung writes: “In my darkness … I could have wished for nothing better than a real, live
    guru, someone possessing superior knowledge and ability, who would have disentangled from me the involuntary creations of my imagination …. ”


  21. Fascinating all.

    I have no understanding of dreams whatsoever. My own experiences are that on very rare occasions, once or twice every few months, a very compelling and detailed dream comes along, and as I am awakening, I do as Laksha suggests: I allow my mind to dance between the still somewhat ongoing dream, and the apparent awakening from the dream. Not truly wanting to awaken, as I want to let the dream run its course, nevertheless, I know I can’t go back. Sometimes these dreams will stay with me for many days, without any particular lingering questions to resolve, only that the remembering in such great detail is so very rare, I don’t want to let it go.

    And on the rarest of occasions, if I am so fortunate to encounter a potential lovemaking interest, I always get so very close to the good stuff when my heart races too much, and I am awakened to never see her beautiful smile, hair, or hip again.

    Frustrations of lost loves or loves that never were I guess.

  22. What struck me about Lasha’s dream were the different structures–first the church, then the wall, then the priest’s house. I also have repeating dreams that involve houses with multiple rooms and no staircases–just room after room after room, some with furniture and some empty. And also there are doors in my dreams, old fashioned screen doors with sun coming through that makes a pattern on the floor, and suddenly I remember what it felt like to be a child.

    I don’t know what dream structures mean, and I don’t believe in either Freud or Jung as dream interpreters. Freud had sexual interpretations for everything because he probably was from a Frankist background where sexual perversion was the norm. Jung–who knows–he suffered from fame and a disconnect from his family. Mrs. Jung raised the kids and Jung cheated. I’ve tried to read both Freud and Jung and never got through the first chapters. My own sense of dreams is that they come from the unprocessed impressions and thoughts of our waking lives. But they do carry some power because I notice that if I immediately write my random thoughts and dreams upon waking I enter the day with greater consciousness.

  23. I generally don’t pay much attention to dreams. However, I felt this one was noteworthy enough to record. The interesting about this dream was the cohesion of the events. It was filmed in Technicolor and quite real.


    I find myself walking down a country lane when I see a dilapidated, gothic Victorian house upon a hill. The house is surrounded by a wrought iron fence. A woman comes out of the house and approaches me with her two German Sheppard dogs. One is an older dog, the other a puppy. The puppy is quite friendly and though large, jumps up on my lap and begins licking my face, while the older dog remains at a distance, seemingly suspicious of my presence. The woman befriends me and invites me into the house. Then I discover the spinster is one of three living in the house. I am unsure of their relationship, but they are of different ages and seem to be sisters. Two are older than the youngest, who is in her late forties or fifties. All three are what one imagines as typical spinsters, with gray hair tied up in buns and long flowing dresses. While not filthy, the house is quite disheveled and I soon find one of the older spinsters cleaning out the upstairs of the house. I offer to help take out the garbage. As I take a large bag of garbage out of a can, the oldest spinster tells me that it is not necessary to help, but I insist and take a bag of garbage she is holding in hand. As I proceed down the stairs with the two bags of garbage, I pass through a hallway where I meet a man who seems to be some sort of repairman, evidently called to make repairs on the house. The man doesn’t seem to notice me as he is preoccupied writing something on a clipboard. I exit the house and carry the bags of garbage down the winding pathway where I place them close to the gate of the wrought iron fence. As I start back up the path to return to the house, I notice a fairly large hole underneath a short run of five or six flagstone steps on the pathway. I pull a flashlight from my pocket and look into the hole. I begin examining the inside of the hole, I can see neighbors outside their house watching me as they talk among themselves. Playing the light into the hole, I can see a skull. Upon closer examination, I see three, almost intact, yellowed skeletons partially uncovered in the dirt under the steps. I get the impression there are many more skeletons than I can see, but I think nothing of this other than it is interesting to find skeletons buried under steps leading to the house. Returning to the house, I pass the man with the clipboard and comment about the skeletons under the flagstones steps. Again, the repairman does not seem to take any notice of me or my comment. I then proceed up the porch steps and go back into the house. A moment later the door bursts open and men dressed in olive-drab, military-style full exposure suits, carrying a large hose enter the house and begin spraying everything down with a watery, foam-like substance. I think Woa! These guys must be hazmat people, someone must have called the hazmat squad. As I exit the house amid the confusion of men carrying hoses into the house and up the stairs, I see the repairman has now donned an official looking jacket with some sort of badge and reflective tape that defines him as an official or government agent and is obviously in charge of the activities. Hurrying down the steps to the driveway, I find numerous, huge, square looking, military style trucks painted olive drab pulling into the driveway. Men dressed in hazmat suits are hurriedly running around to connect hoses to the trucks, while others are pulling more hoses into the house. Despite the confusion, everyone seems to know exactly what they are doing, but there is an unmistakable frenzy about the activity. At that point, I decide it is time to leave and get in my truck to make my exit. Looking around I notice a large crowd of neighbors gathered at the fence to watch the action. I start my truck and begin to leave only to I find I am now hemmed in by the large hazmat trucks parked at different angles, making the driveway a maze of hoses and people almost impossible to navigate. I make several efforts to turn my truck around before finally achieving my exit from the driveway. As I drive away on the road I can see the house fading into the distance, at that point I awaken.

  24. A dream of note … in sepia.

    I am hiding behind a bush, holding a rifle. I am dressed in military uniform, sans any markings or insignia I am aware of.

    I’m watching four or five enemy soldiers coming down the path, low and wary.
    They don’t see me and just as I raise my rifle – a grenade lands right beside me!
    As I look at the grenade (slow motion) it explodes with a blinding flash and everything goes to pitch black. I do not ‘wake up’. Very quickly, like eyes adjusting to a flash bulb the pitch black suddenly gives way to another scene. Exactly like a new movie scene.

    I’m now standing behind the very same bush, this time witnessing my own funeral. Under tall pines in a quiet clearing is my casket, the former ‘me’ lying in it.
    My casket is surrounded by four or five people (even in this dream I’m mildly surprised there are that many(:>!) They are somber, talking quietly as I, in a solemn sort of way enjoy this.

    I then wake up feeling relaxed, grateful and in a very good mood.

    Is this considered an NDE? Appropriate to place it alongside the other two which were brutally material? At times I’m not so sure..

  25. Yep, another dream last night.
    a dream about a dream as I revisited my dream funeral to check on something.
    (I had my fingers crossed)

    Sure enough, there I was, (still) in my casket, my arms displaying the Quenelle..

    I think there’s a message in there, somewhere.

  26. On the subject of dreams, I would recommend a 50 minute lecture by Dr. Michael Persinger of Laurentian University in Ontario Canada. The ideas in the lecture have some relation to the collective unconscious but it is more scientifically based. Essentially he discusses research that relates the electromagnetic frequencies of the brain to the electromagnetic field of the earth, and when the earth’s magnetic field is less active people have more lucid dreams. He brings out numerous studies done on telepathy, which appearantly prove that our brain waves are intertwined particularly in the right brain mode of sleep. In the lull of electromagnetic frequency we could be exchanging brain imagery with each other and potentially if all 7 billion humans on the planet were dreaming at the same time could somehow influence the earth’s field. Hmmm. So it’s an interesting twist on the dreamscape.

    1. worth asking persinger if there was ever a sleep lab setup in the space station or done ad hoc in the shuttle.

      also, re. shaping the e/m fields, don’t forget that animals dream too.
      and who knows, maybe even the plants. why not.

  27. Yes, plants must have the equivalent of right brain dream fields because walking through gardens is like walking in a very sweet dream. But I agree with the idea that just because we have electro magnetic fields of 7 hertz just like that around the earth doesn’t mean we should fall into some sort of New Age hubris and think we can magically manipulate everything for our own agenda–definitely been there, done that already and it didn’t work. It’s interesting that our fields our in most communication with other fields and the planet when we dream…..

  28. Peace be with Lasha who is in transition.

    The unfamiliar church signifies that you are now in a state of mind that is new to you. The orange dress is your identity. The boy next to you is righteous. The glossy magazine signifies your search for the truth. The sea signifies that which separates the heaven from the earth, the curse(bloody page- division) that is upon man. The boy shows you that it is about to be taken away. You feel a need to escape from this situation of discovery, and you enter the real world protected by walls. You find yourself also uncomfortable in this real world, and “feel trapped”. You are relieved to escape, however, you find yourself back in th crazy world from which you yearn to escape.
    A vicious circle. When you step outside you are free from the dream and you wake up .. . with a sickly feeling . . . and with a sense of exhiliration laced with panic.

    The faithful witness

  29. This is an afterthought on Michael Persinger’s lecture from an earlier comment. I commented that this does seem “New Age ish.” I think, though, Persinger’s ideas are closer to the ancient Pythagoreans as found in Plato’s Timaeus where the harmony of the universe and the harmony of the soul mirror each other. To be out of harmony is to be out of sync. So rather than the magical notion of New Age ish ideas it skips back to more the Renaissance idea of harmonies structured into consciousness, buildings, etc. In the unconscious state of dreaming we are more in touch or in harmony with the magnetic fields than when we are actively willing something to happen.

  30. From the comments I assume Darkmoon is very ill. I am so sorry. I will pray that the talented, and courageous lady poet recovers. I hope that she like so many others is not a victim of stealth Zionist agression.

  31. I would have thought that the answer was simple. Holy Mother Church is run by a bunch of mad “sisters” who “are obviously retarded, with a lot of screws loose.” and their ilk, at least, at the local level in the U.S.A. (see, USCCB)

    . . . as The Church goes, so goes the world. Now you know what a pickle feels like.

    Pray long, pray hard, pray often

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