14 May

The man who was not on the porch

The man who was not on the porch

Morning of February 25, 2017. Saturday.

I become more aware while in the middle of a conversation, mostly with people we do not know. Zsuzsanna is with me to my left. We are sitting at a large table. We seem to be in a new unique distortion of the Loomis Street house. If so, we are facing westerly, toward the kitchen. I become slightly puzzled about who these people are. They are mostly a mix of Maori and Caucasian. Without displaying any anger, I tell them it is time to leave. This has something to do with realizing that pages from my dream journals (even from my large notebooks from childhood that served as extensive dream journals) are strewn in loose piles everywhere on tables and desks. I consider that someone reading just one or a few pages of my journals will likely misunderstand everything. Still, I do not see them as thoughtless imposers or intruders.

As most of them get up to leave, I notice a former coworker from Eco 3 (from 1980), Richard B, sitting on a couch, facing south. (The couch is more toward the kitchen and aligned to the north wall where there was never one in reality.) I tell him that he can stay and the others hear me say this. I then see a different version of him sitting farther west but on the back of the couch rather than the seat. This puzzles me somewhat, yet I also recognize him as at least having the first name of Richard though soon perceive him as a different person. The first Richard has no facial hair. The second Richard does.

After we go out onto the porch, there seems to be a large pile of miscellaneous items between the living room entrance and the porch when I look back. (This is not logical as it would have made it impossible to go onto the porch.) I notice several cats climbing up over the items but they do not come onto the porch. The five or six visitors are leaving through a door that is near the northeast corner of the porch, east side (front of the porch), though the real door was near the center of the east side of the porch. (This is a new distortion despite dreams of the Loomis Street house still being common.)

After they are outside, I hear another male’s voice off to my right. Looking on that side of the porch, I notice a thin male of perhaps in his late forties who suddenly starts talking. He is only about the size of a twelve-year-old. He has a large beard and is lying on the wooden porch floor on his back, his head pointed south, apparently having been asleep, under what appear to be two upside-down large metal baskets that are arranged end to end. This is a very unusual and unlikely scene. Looking more closely, I see that he is holding a thin stick with a sharp point, which he grasps lengthways over his chest (parallel to his body). I perceive him as likely being a homeless drunk and I want to get him off the porch but I am wary of the sharp stick. I start to talk to him in a calm voice, telling him it is time to go.

As I watch him, and speak to him, he vanishes before my eyes (yet I do not consider this unusual as I reason that I may not have perceived the scene correctly at first).

“I am not even there, mate,” says a very loud clear Australian male voice. I start to consider that there is some sort of small amplified speaker near the front of the porch (which I visualize as being in the shape of a wind-up alarm clock - an obvious dream state indicator and additionally waking prompt autosymbolism). I ask him where he is and what he wants and he says, “I’m looking for a preview”. (A number of other comments prior to this are exchanged, but I do not fully recall them.) I wake up with a headache (seemingly caused by his loud voice) but which is mild after I get up and walk around.

Understanding this dream’s dynamics and meaning: Since early childhood, a front porch has been one of the most common final settings in the last dream of a sleep cycle. This is because a porch represents liminal space both in dreams and in real life, which is also evidence of liminal dream state awareness and liminal dream control by way of the virtuous circle effect in having a genuine understanding of dreams, so much so, it serves as a carryover in some dream types. A porch is the liminal space between one’s home and the world outside (analogous to the state of unconsciousness between dreaming and waking). Because of this knowledge, I have deliberately often utilized porches in my dreams to vivify and sustain my dream by going “outside” from the porch. This is also why RAS personification is more likely to be dominant when such autosymbolism is liminally utilized, as it is the function of RAS (reticular activating system) to mediate and modulate the dream based on ultradian rhythms and other factors (such as the need to wake to attend to biological needs). If one genuinely looks at my dreaming history, they would see thousands of examples of this in the fifty years I have studied dreams and validated their meanings.

The upside-down metal baskets were a liminal attempt to “cage” the preconscious to sustain the dream state, in this case, a distorted association with the word “hold” (as meanings of words in dreams are often incorrect along with most other dream content), as both a basket and a cage can “hold” something. The preconscious was “sleeping” at this time but soon became active as the other dream characters were leaving (sustained doorway waking autosymbolism; very common). He did not use his weapon or become dominant because I soon focused on my emergent consciousness stage (resulting in his dissolving and the loud voice beyond the porch).

“I’m looking for a preview” is a curious phrase. While the preconscious often spouts gibberish, this is similar to another phrase spoken by the preconscious years ago; “It’s time for a new movie”. I have held different theories on this. “I’m looking for a preview” may relate to the preconscious seeking coalescence with the emergent consciousness (immediately prior to establishing conscious self identity as the “movie” itself).


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